Chapter 2:
The Third Man

"I have said nothing because there is nothing I can say that would describe how I feel as perfectly as you deserve it."
-Kyle Schmidt

1528 ZULU
15 NOVEMBER 2004
RET'D ADM. CHEGWIDDEN'S HOUSEMACLEAN, VIRGINIA

AJ scratched behind Dammit's ears. "You miss her too, don't you, girl?" he asked. Dammit licked his hand. "Maybe we should move to Italy to be closer to her," he mused. It had only been a couple of weeks since Francesca had gone back to her life in Italy, and he missed her terribly. The summer had been wonderful, but the World Series was over with, so he was at loose ends.

He'd never been good at liberty--maybe he should try going into civilian practice for something to do. Then again, the thought of defending guilty people for money gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "We need something to do, you and I, don't we, girl?" he asked with a little smile.

Dammit didn't answer--the phone rang instead. Grateful for the distraction, AJ gave her a final scratch behind the ears before getting up and going into the house to answer it. "Chegwidden residence," he said gruffly.

"Admiral, this is General Cresswell," the voice on the other end of the line said.

"My replacement. How can I help you, sir?" AJ asked. "I'm sure that you'll like that billet--despite the headaches, they're a fine group of officers."

"Rabb and Mackenzie," the General said.

"What have they done now?" AJ asked his voice broadcasting his annoyance.

"Apparently this wasn't recent," Cresswell said dryly. "I've just received documentation that they secretly got married three years ago December eighteenth. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

AJ stiffened. Sure, he'd grown apart from his JAG family since Bud's accident, but he knew his former officers well enough to know that they'd never flagrantly flout fraternization regulations like that. They were too good of officers, and both of them had too highly developed senses of honor to do it. "General," he began, "Rabb and Mackenzie would never do that. Ever. I don't know where your information came from, but someone obviously has their wires crossed somewhere."

"I'm having the legalities of the documents checked, but everything looks right. They were married in Raleigh, North Carolina three years ago next month," the General said in a calm voice.

AJ's eyes widened as he remembered who Mac had been blatantly seeing for the past year. "Hell. If they're legal, she was dating Clayton Webb last year--he works for the Company. Fraternization will be the least of Colonel Mackenzie's worries if the documents are legal."

"Admiral, you wouldn't happen to remember what they were doing around that time--why they were in North Carolina alone together?" Cresswell asked.

AJ bit his lip and thought hard. "Letssee... that would've been right after the JAGathon, so it was probably the misconduct and harassment case down at Camp Lejeune. I sent them to investigate the accusations and, as I recall, they got caught in a freak snowstorm and got snowed in. Those two make a mighty fine team when they're working together."

"That's what I'm afraid of," AJ heard Cresswell mutter.

"General, I assure you that this is some kind of mistake; people have been trying to get the two of them together for years and never managed it. Rabb and Mackenzie are about as married as I am."

"I've been reading their files, Admiral," Cresswell said dryly. "I'm well aware of what they did while under your command. Hopefully, Mackenzie can be salvaged from all that time spent with Naval officers; she's a damn fine Marine and it's time she remembered that."

"Now hold on a cotton pickin' minute here. Rabb may be a loose cannon, but he's the best man to have at your back. General, both of them are innocent and it's up to you to prove it! Good day!" AJ slammed down the phone, took a deep breath to calm himself, picked up the phone and started to dial a number he hadn't used in a long time.

"Harm? This is AJ Chegwidden. I just got a call from your new CO, and it looks like you're up the creek without a paddle again, son. Now there was a time when I was a damn good investigator, and last time I checked I was still a lawyer. I need something to do and it sounds like you need help--even a retired old Admiral like me still likes some action now and then. Call me and I'll help. Son, you've got yourself a lawyer." AJ hung up the phone, walked over, and petted Dammit absently. Somebody had to stand up for Harm and the Navy; this time he guessed it'd have to be him.

Maybe this would help heal the breach that had developed in the past few years without the boundaries that had existed when he was still the man's CO. There was a time that Rabb was the son he'd never had and never wanted… part of him missed that.

1200 ZULU
18 NOVEMBER 2004
LEAVENWORTH PRISON
FORT LEAVENWORTH, KANSAS

Clark Palmer smiled as he checked the balance on his Swiss Bank Account. He'd been amassing funds under Harmon Rabb's name for years; after he finally got his revenge, he could buy his own island and retire in style--at least until he got bored enough to steal a few more secrets.

The money was untraceable, and with the boy scout's name on the account, there was no way for anyone to think it was his. First, there was revenge. He had to discredit both Harmon Rabb and that Marine Colonel partner of his. It was easy; he'd set the plan in motion almost three years ago--all without leaving his cell.

It had the added bonus of ruining both of their careers. If he were lucky, they'd even been sent to Leavenworth so that he could show Harmon Rabb exactly what he thought of him! They stole his very profitable business from him, so it was only fair that he take from them everything that was important to them!

No more patriotic crap for Harmon Rabb and Sarah Mackenzie. No more flag waving, no more heroism; they'd be branded just as they really were--lawbreakers just like himself. Too bad he couldn't get them on treason charges so that they'd be put to death. They hadn't done anything serious enough to merit that. Palmer smirked and laced his fingers behind is head.

It had only taken minor meddling to take advantage of an outdated North Carolina marriage law. He'd even saved them the trouble of filing the paperwork! The way they acted together was sickening anyway. And since the changing of their CO, it was the perfect time for him to act. That was why he'd sent out the proof.

His sources said that they weren't even the least bit grateful. Oh, the ingratitude! They ought to be thankful to him for what he'd done. Sure, their careers and lives were over, but he'd managed to marry them when they'd never even managed to date!

All it had taken was to pay off the night clerk and buy up the other hotel rooms in Raleigh during that snowstorm; his sources had told him when they had been ordered to make the trip. The snowstorm had been lucky; if it hadn't started snowing, he had someone else who would've arranged an accident to hold them overnight...

Palmer sighed and contemplated ways to dig them deeper into the mire than they were already. One could never be too careful when plotting revenge. After all, wasn't the best revenge to not only live well, but to strip your enemy of everything they loved? It would only be a matter of time before he managed it...

2317 ZULU
16 NOVEMBER 2004
MATTIE'S HOUSE
BLACKSBURG, VIRGINIA

Mattie set down her math textbook and sighed. It had only been a few days, but she missed Harm. Not for the first time, she wondered if she'd done the right thing. She thought back to the conversation she'd had with Colonel Mackenzie and sighed. Mac was wrong. She knew it. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that he'd loved Colonel Mackenzie unconditionally for a long time.

What she'd really taught him was that it was okay to tell somebody how he felt about them; it had taken a long time for him to tell her, after all. Her dad would let her visit him on the weekends, but what if it wasn't enough? What if Mac didn't live up to her promise?

Who would take care of Harm then? Whether he admitted it or not, Harm needed somebody to take care of him. He got into trouble too much to not have somebody there for him. Now that she was in Blacksburg, who would do it? Mattie glanced at the clock, then picked up the phone. She needed to make sure he was okay. No matter who she was living with, Harm was her dad, too.

Mattie dialed the familiar number and waited for him to pick up. "Harm?" she said quietly.

"Mats?" he asked. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Mattie didn't like the way he sounded. From his voice alone, it was if somebody had ripped his heart out and stomped on it. "I just... missed you. And I wanted to know how you are."

"I'm fine, kiddo," he answered. "There's just some stuff going on that I have to deal with; grown-up stuff that you don't need to worry about."

She liked the sound of that even less. "Harm, you know I'm just gonna worry anyway, so why don't you tell me what's wrong."

"Mattie, you need time to get settled in; you've just moved back to your old home and your old school. I don't want you worrying about me when you've got much more important stuff to do."

Mattie bit her lip. Stubborn. He was more stubborn than anyone she knew--including herself. Telling her not to worry made her worry more. "Harm, there's not much stuff in my life more important that you are," she said quietly. "I'll worry anyway because I love you."

"I know, sweetheart, but you don't have to worry. Promise me you'll behave and do your best in school? You can always call me for help with your homework if you need it." Harm's voice still sounded strained to her.

"I promise," she said, crossing her fingers behind her back. "Harm, I've got some homework--can I call you later, around bedtime?"

"Sure you can!" he said. "Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you, too, Harm," she answered, then hung up the phone. Harm was in trouble; she knew it. He wouldn't sound so messed up if he wasn't. And since she was all he had, it was up to her to find out what was wrong and be there for him.

She scooted off the bed and hurried downstairs to the living room. "Dad!" she called.

"What is it, Mattie?" Tom asked, looking up from the TV show he was watching.

"I need to go to Falls Church tomorrow," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Mathilda Grace Johnson," Tom began, "you are not going to the JAG offices to see Harmon Rabb. You're supposed to be living with me now, which means that you're not his concern anymore!"

Mattie's eyes flashed fire and she balled her hands into fists. "Harm was there for me when nobody else was," she said through gritted teeth. "He's my dad just as much as you are and he needs me. If it weren't for him, I would've ended up as a statistic! I'm going to JAG Headquarters tomorrow whether you like it or not!"

Mattie stormed out of the living room and up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She loved Harm. She trusted him, and she was willing to bet that she knew him better than anyone. Pert of her still felt guilty for sneaking looks into his journal lately, but she had to know how he felt.

Mattie flung herself on her bed, picked up a picture of herself and Harm from the bedside table, and ran her finger over his face. "I'm coming, Harm," she said, steel still in her voice. "And whoever danced the Flamenco on your heart is gonna answer to me!" she murmured fiercely.

2435 ZULU
16 NOVEMBER 2004
MAC'S APARTMENTGEORGETOWN, VIRGINIA

Mac stared disgustedly at the case file in front of her, then pushed it away. She was still angry about what Harm had done. Sure it tanked his career again, but after leaving for a six-month stint playing spy, it was pretty much over anyway. One more black mark wouldn't make much of a difference to him; he'd never get a promotion to Captain, anyway.

No, it was her career that he'd ruined. He was just being petty and vindictive because he knew how much Cresswell scared her! He'd sure bided his time for revenge, but he'd finally gotten it. Once again, she had to clean up his mess and rebuild her life.

A niggling little voice in the back of her head told her that she was being unfair, but she dismissed it quickly. She'd find out how and exactly why he'd done it and then he'd be sorry. The voice whispered again how he'd been behaving towards her--how he'd been trying to take care of her since she told him about her illness, but she wasn't listening. As usual, Harmon Rabb had somehow managed to do something to screw up her life.

But he'd never meant to screw up her life before. He'd never pushed her for anything and she was almost ashamed to admit that he never really even asked her for help when he needed it. The request last Christmas had been unusual to say the least. Usually, it was Harm helping her and catching her when she fell.

And if she looked at the gradual decline in their relationship, it wasn't all his fault. She had contributed as well. Mac took a deep breath and started tracing patterns on her afghan. She'd said every nasty, snarky thing that came to mind last year in an attempt to provoke a reaction, any reaction, from him. She'd been wrong too. And Harm had tried to apologize. She hadn't. She didn't even remember the last time she'd apologized to him.

Maybe it was time she turned over a new leaf. Harm had been her rock and she really wasn't sure what she'd do without him. The last thing she wanted was to be separated from him--and their best chance for finding out what happened was to work together. They'd always been a better team than adversaries.

She'd convicted him without evidence. There wasn't any to say that Harm had done it, and she didn't think she should place complete blame for their predicament without finding proof. Together, they might be able to investigate--if the General let them, that is. Two sets of TAD paperwork had come across her desk that day--Meg Austin and Kate Pike.

Mac bit her lip. If she didn't want to lose him completely, she needed to apologize. She hated to do it, but she had a feeling that it was past time she did. Mac stood up, grabbed her keys and coat, shoved her feet into slippers and left before she lost her nerve. Apologizing went against the grain; it's why she hadn't done it in years. But she couldn't keep hurting him and expect him to remain her best friend.

Mac hurried downstairs, jumped in her car, and headed to Harm's apartment. He'd already been hurting because of Mattie leaving, and she'd kicked him where it hurt. Her eyes started to fill with tears as she remembered the hurt look on his face when she'd attacked. She just hoped that it wasn't beyond repair.

Luckily, she hit all the traffic lights just right, and managed to make it there in record time. She parked the car and hurried upstairs. Mac knocked on his door and waited impatiently for him to open it, still trying not to cry.

The door swung open, revealing Harm standing there, wearing old blue jeans and a faded Annapolis t-shirt. "Mac?" he said quietly. "Are you okay?"

Mac swallowed, hard, before she answered. "Harm, I'm... sorry for what I said yesterday. It is too late?" She looked up at him through large, tear-filled brown eyes. "Are we still friends?"

Harm reached out and pulled her gently inside, then opened his arms. "C'mere," he murmured.

Mac went into them and laid her ear against his chest, comforted by the sound of his heartbeat. She rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt, amazed at how it felt. It was as if a missing piece of herself was back into place. "I'm sorry, Harm," she muttered.

"Even when I'm mad as hell at you, I'm still your friend, Ninja Girl." Harm said, hugging her a bit tighter. "That's never gonna change."

Mac looked up at him, surprised by the use of that old nickname. She didn't remember the last time he'd used it. They days of 'Ninja Girl' and 'Flyboy' seemed so far away. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back. Maybe they weren't so far away after all. The two of them stood in silence, each lending support to the other and becoming stronger in the process.

TBC...