AN: At the moment these are coming in all over the place but eventually I hope to fill in all the holes.
1040 ZULU
RABB RESIDENCE
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
Harm's POV
"How can things so small have so much energy?" I asked Mac as we lay in bed with one little boy dressed in his blue PJs and one little girl in her pink ones bouncing around us.
"I don't know," she groaned sitting up to grab Alex around the waist and pull her down to lay with us, "And you want to have another one."
"Dada?" Aidan asked curiously when I closed my eyes. I was going to pretend to sleep until forty pounds of an almost two year old landed directly on my stomach.
"Hey buddy," I lifted him from his spot until he was parallel to me above us.
"Aiwpwane," he shouted excited showing off his four teeth. He clapped his hands excitedly until I brought him down resting him on my chest and wrapping my arms around him, "wove dada."
"Dada loves you too," I whispered kissing his head of blonde curls, still amazed at how much he looked like my mother's side of the family, especially since Alex was the spitting image of me from the dark hair and fair complexion, to her own little 'flygirl' grin.
"Me too, dada?" Alex asked squeezing her way into my arms.
"You too baby," I assured squeezing them tightly before sitting up.
"And mama?" they asked in unison. It still amazed me how they managed to do that.
"Dada loves mama very much," I replied, leaning over to kiss Mac softly as the twins watched.
"Alright," Mac smiled when we broke apart, "who's hungry?" Two bright, bubbly toddlers followed her off the bed and down the hallway. I stretched lazily before dragging myself from the bed and heading for the shower, time for another day in the life of the Rabbs.
1408 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
"An air strike to take out Al Queda terrorist leader Kabir just failed," the SECNAV reports to Admiral Chegwidden, Mac and I in the conference room as he fixed himself a cup of coffee and came back to us at the table, "Instead, we incurred civilian casualties leaving Kabir's whereabouts unknown."
"Kabir's brother Mustafa warned of another terrorist attack spearheaded by Kabir, Sir," I remembered our run in with Mustafa and the trial, "If we can't find him, have we at least, uncovered a clue as to what the plan was?"
"We may have. Clayton Webb suspects Kabir enlisted the services of Russian naval officer Captain Mikael Yurastov," the SECNAV tells us as he takes a seat.
"So, he may be in league with Russian extremists?" the Admiral asks.
"Naval extremists," the SECNAV answers, "Which is why I'm assigning you to a think tank I'm creating. You know more about Kabir than anyone and you have the research assets to expand your base of knowledge." The SECNAV slid a file folder to the Admiral, "Tell me where the Navy is vulnerable to Kabir and show me how to stop him."
"Yes, Sir," Admiral Chegwidden answered, glancing through the papers in the file.
"And to that point, I'd like Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie back in Afghanistan," the SECNAV tells us and Mac glances toward me, "Officially, they'll investigate civilian casualties from that strike."
"But unofficially we're investigating Kabir?" I question.
"Correct."
"Sir, why not be above board and announce what we're doing?" Mac queries.
"Despite the desire to do so, CIA and Navy missions do not always mesh, so I want you involved to protect the Navy's interests," the SECNAV answers.
"Sir, uh…there may be a hitch in this," the Admiral comments as he removes his glasses, "Gunnery Sergeant Galindez was implicated in the collateral damage due to the air strike."
"Sir?" Mac asks concerned.
"That's right, our Gunny," says Admiral Chegwidden.
"Sir, two senior JAG attorneys investigating someone they know is going to raise flags," I supply.
"I trust you can lower them," replies the SECNAV as he rises, we all rise as well, "Good luck," offers the SECNAV and then leaves the conference room.
"When you see Gunny, give him my best," The Admiral insisted as we came to attention as he left.
1730 ZULU
ROBERTS' RESIDENCE
ROSSLYN, VIRGINIA
"Harriet are you sure you don't mind?" Mac asked one more time as we preparing to leave.
"I promise, Ma'am, besides we'll have lots of fun. The Admiral's given me some leave time and I figured I'd take them all to the zoo," she smiled holding Alex. "Besides it's not like you guys have a choice, you have to go."
"Alright," Mac sighed reaching out for Alex to give her a big hug and then handed her to me. Probably the hardest part about being a father was facing situations like this, it wasn't even that I was going it was that both of us were and if something happened they wouldn't have either of us.
"Love you punkin," I kissed her forehead setting her back down on the ground and receiving Aidan from Mac.
"Do me a favor?" I asked looking into his innocent eyes he nodded, "help AJ take care of Aunt Harriet and your sister, okay?"
"Otay, dada," he smiled crookedly wrapping his arms tightly around my neck, he was definitely the more affectionate child. "Wove you."
"Love you too," I set him down next to his sister. "Be good, we'll miss you."
"Bye bye," the both raised their right hands waving as we walked away.
0544 ZULU
OUTSIDE KANDAHAR
AFGHANISTAN
Mac and I were driven into a small city like base of tents, "Thank you, Corporal," Mac smiles politely to the driver as she and I jump out of the Humvee, dressed to the nines in desert cammies and bulky Kevlar vests.
"Gunny!" I exclaimed getting out of the Humvee.
"Commander, Colonel, good to see you again," Gunny responded offering a salute, "Let me show you where you can stow your gear."
"How are you, Gunny?" Mac queried.
"Confused as to why senior attorneys are assigned to this investigation, Ma'am," he replied as he led us over to one of the tents.
"The Admiral wants to do right by you, Gunny," I told him sincerely, "Take it as a compliment."
"If that's what the Commander wishes, I will, Sir," Gunny answered always the straight-laced marine.
"Look, Gunny, we know you were tasked to the CIA on that mission," I turn to talk to him and Gunny offers a single nod, "Feel like sharing?"
"All right, Sir," he agrees, "I lead a special reaction team that reports back to Clayton Webb."
"Well, our primary mission is to monitor the CIA's pursuit of Kabir," I reveal knowing we can trust him.
"Our investigation into the civilian casualty issue is our secondary mission," adds Mac.
"In that case, Ma'am, I'll make things even easier for you," Gunny says, "I'm responsible for those deaths." Mac sighs and I just stare at Gunny, "Can I change the topic for a few seconds?" we both nod, "You didn't happen to bring any pictures did you?"
"Of course, they're our good luck charms," Mac smiles pulling out pictures of Aidan and Alex. "Here, you can keep this one."
"Are you sure ma'am?" he asks taking the photo gently in his hands. Although most people wouldn't believe it he was one of our best babysitters before he shipped out.
"Of course, they miss their Uncle Victor, you know?"
"I know," he sighs, "Now back to the case," he puts the photo into his shirt pocket, "As part of Operation Hydra, we were following Kabir and two other Al Queda terrorists," Gunny explains to us as he gets cups of coffee for us, "Finally caught up to them heading north in a white Toyota pickup. We maneuvered ahead of him a few clicks to set him up for the strike."
"You couldn't differentiate between the vehicles?" I ask.
"Apparently not, Sir," Gunny replies.
"Do you want that to suffice as your answer, Gunny?" Mac asks as she removes her bulky flak jacket.
"Winds were up, visibility was low," Gunny answers, "There were a lot of trucks around here in that color."
"If you had doubts about the target, why did you confirm it?" asks Mac.
"They weren't expecting any other vehicles, Ma'am. That's a remote area. And I…I told an Afghan woman to warn nearby residents to stay indoors." He walks over to a table and grabs a file folder, "Now, she's a scholar, Sir. She speaks Arabic, Dari, and Farsi. Her names Fareeza Tarik." He hands the folder to me, "Here's her photo."
"Well, if she warned them to stay indoors, why didn't they?" I ask confused.
"I tried to find that out myself, Sir," Gunny says as I hand the photo to Mac, "I went to the village in question, but my Farsi's still a bit rough. They couldn't understand me," Mac offers a small smile.
"Where can we find this Fareeza?"
"I've been looking for her for two days, Sir," Gunny answers, "But I wouldn't worry, Commander, she'll show up. Fareeza documents Afghan genealogy; spends most of her time moving from village to village."
"Anything else, Gunny?" asks Mac.
"Yes, Ma'am. Lieutenant Commander Coulter would like you to stop by and say hello," Gunny says, eliciting a surprised look from me, Mac seems a little surprised, herself.
"Well, I asked to be recalled," Terri explained once we caught up with her, "I mean, for all I know, one of these could be Bin Laden," She held up two glass vials of liquid, "So, what's you guys' initial take on the missed air strike?"
"Were just getting into it," I answer as Terri comes out of the lab area and closes the door.
"This is quite a facility. I'm impressed," Mac says looking around.
"Well, I'd like to think I'm special, Colonel," says Terri, "But the truth is, this is just Operation Hydra: identifying DNA of Al Queda and Taliban leaders killed in air strikes. With this set-up, I can test DNA in-country without having to ship it back to the US."
"Find anyone we know yet?" I ask.
"That depends. Who are you looking for?" Terri asks.
Mac's POV
For some reason these Marines thought we were capable of taking care of ourselves so I was now driving down a dusty dirt road with Harm riding shotgun. A man with a camel crosses the road and Harm warns, "Mac," I see the camel and slow for it.
"You like it here," I comment with a smile at Harm.
He smiles back, "Call me crazy."
"Well, what is it?" I ask seriously.
"Oh, you wouldn't understand," He answers a little defensively.
"Try me," I reply constantly intrigued by my husband.
"It's a man's country," He answers.
"Ah…I guess that's why there's two of them up there," I nod seeing the roadblock up ahead, I slow to a stop and ask if they speak Farsi to one of them, but he doesn't say anything in return, "Okay…language barrier."
"We want to go through," Harm says pointing up the road; the native makes a hand gesture for peeling bills of a roll of money.
I smile, "Seems simple enough."
"How--how much?" Harm asks pointing to each of his fingers as if counting.
The guy holds up five fingers, "Five Afghani." Harm digs his bankroll out of his pocket and begins counting off five bills. The guy holds up his other hand indicating that he now wants ten bills. Harm counts off another five and hands them to the guy. The guy says something to Harm in his native tongue and then calls out to his partner to move the roadblock.
"Even I know better than to show the whole roll," I comment to my seemingly naive husband, driving through the block.
"Just keep your eyes on the road," he replies playfully.
"See, the problem with 'man country' is that it's run by men," I pick up our previous conversation.
"Well, after this new government imposes a rule of law, that will all change," he answers.
"You think that will happen before we run out of money?" I ask sweetly as we approach another roadblock getting through that one we arrived at the village, some men are singing their prayers while children play in the road. We exit our Humvee and I speak to a woman in Farsi.
(We're from the Marine encampment. Can we ask you some questions?) I question.
(Where's our food?) The woman answers with her own question.
(What food?)
(Our village was raided by bandits; the man from the camp was bringing us supplies. Give us food and we'll answer questions,) I watch Harm glance around at the bleakness, from the corner of my eye.
"Their supplies have been taken by bandits," I tell him, "I think Gunny was helping them out. She'll exchange information for food."
(We can help you,) I tell her, as Harm continues to look around warily, (Did a woman named Fareeza Tarik visit any of you the night of the missile strike and tell you to stay inside?)
(No one came here.)
"She was never here, was she?" Harm asks.
"No," I reply, (Thank you very much.)
"Let's get out of here."
KHANDAHAR
"I'm sure there's an explanation, Ma'am," Gunny says after Harm and I confronted him about Fareeza.
"Yes," I agree, "Fareeza didn't do the job."
"She disappeared, and subsequently, Kabir escapes," Harm adds as we walk across the compound, "Now, what does that say to you?"
"Not what you're implying, Sir," Gunny replies defensively.
"Look, Gunny, what do your team members think?" Harm asks.
"They only met her once, Sir."
"How well do you know her?" I ask, getting a sinking feeling about Gunny and this woman.
"Well enough to put myself on the line for her, Ma'am," he answers with conviction.
"Unfortunately, Gunny, that's not going to fly," Harm says.
"It's your prerogative, Sir."
"We want to know more about this woman," I tell him, "We've enlisted some locals to put out the word; see if they can find her. Now, in the meantime, resume your duties."
"Yes, Ma'am. That would be sniffing out Kabir," Gunny says hurrying his pace to get ahead of us.
"Well, good. That'll put us on parallel paths," Harm comments.
"Yes, Sir, and for the record, Fareeza is not working for the other side and she never would have betrayed me," Gunny stops quickly and turns to salute us, Harm salutes back and Gunny walks off.
I sigh and glancing up at Harm. "He's in love with her." He just lets out a little hiss as if he's thinking 'oh, brother.'
BACK AT BASE CAMP…
NEAR KHANDAHAR
"This is Ghazi," I tell Harm as I escort a young boy into the legal tent, "His father was executed by the Taliban. He's the chief breadwinner of his family; been repairing cars for the last three years. A man, accompanied by a woman, asked him to check his engine and then headed east. He's matched the woman to Fareeza's photo."
"Did you get a description of the guy?" Harm asks. I turn to speak in Farsi to Ghazi and the boy responds.
"What did he say?"
"His eyes were different colors. One brown, one blue," I answer, Harm and I just look at each other, and a Corporal escorted the boy back to his village, "It's hard to believe what these kids go through."
"I can't help but picture Aidan here," Harm sighs opening his arms to me and drawing me into his lap, "trying to protect Alex at all costs."
"Don't think about that Harm," I whisper placing a kiss on his forehead, "they are home safe with Harriet."
"I know," he nods, "We need to contact Gunny."
Out in the desert…
Harm's POV
"Sand crab," answers Gunny.
"Gunny."
"Yes, Commander."
"What's your status?" I ask.
"I hooked up with Clayton Webb, Sir," he answers, "He's interfacing with his operatives at the moment."
"Good stay with him," I ordered.
"Have you found Fareeza, Sir?"
"She's with Kabir, Gunny," I answer regretfully.
"With all due respect, Sir, I don't buy it," Gunny remarks.
"We spoke to someone this afternoon who saw them together," I tell him. "He ID'd Kabir by his eyes. One blue, one brown."
"It makes no sense, Sir," Gunny argues respectfully.
"It does if she works for him," I answer knowing that if it were Mac I would have a hard time believing it too.
"She's a historian, Commander," Gunny argues, "She's risked her life opposing the Taliban. She'd never support their allies."
"I know that's what she told you, Gunny."
"He must have forced her to go with him, Sir. Maybe he needed an interpreter," Gunny suggests.
"Kabir speaks eight languages, Gunny," I answer doubtfully, "Listen, you're going to have to let this one go and concentrate on the task at hand. Now I need you to monitor Webb and report back to us. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir, it is," Gunny says sadly.
"We'll talk soon," I sign off.
"You having second thoughts about Gunny?" Mac asks as we drive along again.
"His instincts have always been pretty good," I answer.
"Love is an anecdote to good instincts," Mac replies glancing toward me for a moment.
"Mac!" I shout, there was a goat in the road and Mac swerved to avoid it, but ends up plowing through what appeared to be an empty field, a tire in the Humvee blew, and I went flying out onto my back as the vehicle hit a bump and came to a stop.
"Harm!" Mac calls out.
Mac puts the Humvee in park and climbs up to standing position. "Harm—don't move…" I groan, thinking that wasn't even possible, "…you're in a mine field. Those were anti-personnel mines we just went through."
"Great," I answer from flat on my back.
"Look carefully at the ground around you," Mac tells me, I raise my head slowly and looks at the dirt next to me, "Do you see anything?"
"Stars."
"Stars? Are you okay?" she asks from her perch a top the passenger seat.
"Yeah…I think I'm fine." I groan again, "Look, isn't the idea to bury mines so you cant see them?"
"Sometimes there's a little depression or a slight pile," she answers.
"Well, which is it? A depression or a pile?"
"Depends on how long ago it was buried," Mac says.
"I'm going to stand up," I tell her glancing around again.
"Okay, just…just do it in place," she instructs, as if telling Alex and Aidan how to brush their teeth.
I sit straight up, grunting softly and those stars return full force, glancing over at the jeep, "That right rear tire is shredded."
Mac leans over the side and looks at it then moves across to the driver side and checks the tires there, "Yeah, and so is the left front."
"Look," I slowly move to a standing position. "Maybe the mines we hit were the only ones here."
"Now, what are the odds of that?" she asks, back to standing on the passenger seat and looking at me.
"Kind of long," I answer, out of breath.
"No, not kind of long…" Mac replies, "…very long; incredibly long; astronomically long; your odds of winning the lottery are—"
"Okay. Mac. I get the point," I cut her off knowing she was babbling, I watch as Mac jumps into the driver's seat and starts the engine. "What are you doing?" I ask when she shifts to reverse.
"Well, you can't walk over here, so I'm going to drive closer to you," she explains.
"What about the mines?" I ask.
"Well, they're anti-personnel mines—they won't blow up a Humvee," she replies.
"I'm not in a Humvee…"
"Good point," she answers killing the engine.
"Toss me the canteen?" I request. She grabs it and stands up on the seats again and tosses it to me, I catch it easily, but a look of relief washes over both of our faces.
"Any ideas?" she asks.
"I'm thinking," I answer taking a swig, "Okay, I got an idea."
"What?"
"You take cover on the far side of the Humvee. I'm going to walk over to it," I tell her.
"That's not a plan, that's Afghan Roulette," Mac replies.
"Well, I'm not going to stand here like a statue forever when there's probably nothing between me and that Humvee but dirt," I remark.
"Well, what's the rush?" she asks nervously, "We can't drive anywhere on the rims."
"The first step is the hardest," I tell her.
"Harm don't—" she says as I take the first step, we both laugh nervously. Second step comes and goes and nothing happens and Mac lets out her breath. But the third times the charm apparently and we both hear a click.
I look up at her, "Did you hear that?"
She makes a little laugh sound, "Uh huh…boy, are you lucky."
"Why? I didn't just step on a mine?" I ask uneasily.
"No. You're standing on a mine. It is just not pressure-detonated like the others," she says, "It's probably a Soviet butterfly mine."
"So what does that mean—it won't detonate until I take my foot off it?"
"Right."
I snort, "So, how does that make me lucky?"
"Well, you're still alive aren't you?" she asks.
"Yeah, so long as I don't move my foot, I am," I comment.
Mac sighs, "Okay, we'll come up with something."
"You figure they mined that slope?" I ask glancing toward the right.
"Probably not; it's too steep," she says, looking over at it.
"Good. You go up there," I say breathing hard, "On the far side of the big mountain is base camp. Bring back help."
"I--I wouldn't get there till morning and you're not going to stand there all night in the freezing cold," she exclaims.
"What other choice do I have?" I ask incredulously.
"Well, something better than that," Mac answers in that motherly tone.
"There is nothing better than that," I reply, "Now, go."
"No," Mac retorts, "I'm not leaving, for better or for worse, remember?" We share a quick look before Mac gets an idea and starts looking around, "We replace your weight with something heavy, like…" She looks in the back of the Humvee, "…the ammo box."
"The ammo box doesn't weigh anything near what I do," I exclaim.
"It doesn't have to," She grunts as she picks up the heavy metal case, "It just has to be heavy enough to delay the mine until you can get on the other side of the Humvee." Mac is now standing in the front passenger seat holding the ammo box.
"Okay, now what?" I ask, "It's too heavy for you to hand it to me." Mac sets the ammo box down onto the seat and then jumps onto the dirt next to the vehicle, "MAC!" I yell, "You could have killed us both!"
"Yeah, but I didn't," she comments calmly, reaching around to grab the ammo box again, "Okay…I'm going to put my weight on the ammo box. I'll slide it forward, you slide your foot back, okay?" I just watch her as she lowers the ammo case to the ground, keeping pressure on it. She pushes the box forward against my boot, pushing it off the mine. "Okay. I got it. Take cover."
I step onto the ammo box and push her upright, "You take cover."
"What…?" she asks in surprise, "Why do you have to be so damn macho?"
"Look, can I get over to the Humvee faster from up here that you can from down there?" I ask reasonably, when she doesn't answer I question again, "Can I?"
She looks down, "Probably."
"Then I'm not being macho; I'm just being practical," I say with a grin, "besides Alex and Aidan need at least one parent."
"You know, sometimes you can be infuriating?" Mac asks with a small grin of her own.
"I know," I acknowledge gently, "Now go."
She leans up placing her lips solidly against mine, "Good luck."
"Thanks."
She gives me one last look before turning around and hopping back up onto the Humvee and across to the other side. She gets down on the dirt beside the blown left front tire.
I step all the way up on top of the ammo box; pulling my hat back on and throwing the canteen back into the Humvee. Taking a deep breath and saying a silent pray, I leap across the hood of the Humvee and down next to Mac. The mine blows, throwing dirt clods all over the place.
"Are you okay?" I ask, visually checking her over.
"Yeah. Fine. You?" Mac pants.
"Yeah…" I chuckle tentatively as we sit up and look at each other, "Ah…thanks, Mac. That took guts, I love you, you know?"
"I know, I love you too, and you would have done the same for me," Mac says rising to her feet with me right behind her.
"Yeah, well, the Navy doesn't teach us tricks like," I respond as Mac grabs our packs out of the Humvee.
"Neither does the Marine Corps," Mac remarks, grabbing her weapon, "I saw it in a movie."
"You saw it in a movie?" I ask, really surprised.
"Yup."
"They don't use real booby traps in movies!" I exclaim after her retreating figure.
"Come on." She waves at me to hurry up after her.
"They make things up!" I call, "Mac!"
Night has fallen over the Afghan desert…
"Look." I point up a hill, "Let's make our way up this slope for that ridge. We'll camp there for the night. It's better than risking tripping a mine trying to get back to the road. In the morning, we'll look for a safer way out."
"Yeah. We could both use the rest." Mac agrees and we head up the slope.
Later…
As she and I settle in for the night, Mac leaves about a foot of room between us, "You know, if you want, I could call down to the front desk and ask them to send a room divider," I comment with a hint of a tease.
Mac chuckles softly, "I thought you'd want your own space, besides I thought we agreed not to break regs."
I laugh and look around, "How much more space do I need, Mac? And that was in front of others, and in case you haven't noticed there is no one else around."
"Ahh...fine," she says, scooting her pack closer to mine and settling down again.
"You know, Mac, the temperature is going to continue to drop, so if we don't share body heat, we're risking hypothermia," I say seriously, as if she would refuse me now.
Mac smiles up at me, "You make it sound so inviting."
I grin back down at her, "You want an invitation?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you come over here? It's a little bit better than sleeping with scorpions," I invite opening my arms and shirt to accept her into my embrace.
She rolls her eyes at my charming offer. "All right," she says, pulling her pack even closer to mine, she scoots in closer until we're face to face and tucks her legs in between mine and I pull her into my coat.
"Okay?" I ask once were settled.
"Yeah," she says, as we lay cheek-to-cheek looking up at the night sky.
"Mac?" I whisper into the dark.
"What?"
"Do you hear that?"
"I don't hear anything," she answers perplexed.
"Exactly, not many places left in the US where you can hear absolutely nothing," we both continue our stargazing and enjoying the sound of 'nothing' for a few more moments when suddenly out of nowhere a distant bombing noise can be heard.
"Where is that coming from?" Mac asks and we raise our heads up to look around. We hear another boom a little louder now and see a faint glow just over a small ridge; all of a sudden several explosions occur and are coming right for us. We jump up and hightail it out of there and head for some large boulders as one blows right behind us. It was so close that I swear I felt the heat from the blast against by back.
Next Morning…
A couple of Humvees come around a bend in the dirt road towards us after we had walked most of the night towards base camp. The Humvees come to a stop and the soldiers get out and approach us.
"Commander, Colonel," says the Corporal, "Good to see you."
"Good to see you, Corporal," I reply dying for a place to rest.
"Have a seat," invites the Corporal as we approach the side of the Humvee, "Helo found your Humvee this morning. Thought you guys might be captured or worse."
"We're fine," Mac says as she sits in the front passenger seat while I settle in the back seat.
"Corpsman!" calls out the Corporal and we share a look, "If you don't mind, Ma'am, I'd like to confirm. We can't provide a shower, but we'll wash up these cuts and put an antiseptic on them."
"That'd be a waste of good water, Corporal," I tell them not wanting to dwindle their supplies.
"Please, Sir. Humor me," the Corporal answered, I took the proffered canteen and, leaning over, poured water all over my head enjoying the refreshing almost shower like feel, while, the corpsman tended to Mac's cuts.
At the scene of the bombing, soldiers dig through the rubble looking for the bodies…Mac is talking to one of the soldiers before coming over to talk to me…"All structures were hit; three vehicles destroyed," she tells me, "They count twelve bodies so far—at least those that are intact."
"Any word on Kabir or Fareeza?" I ask.
"Not yet," she says.
"Sir, Ma'am, you all right?" Gunny asks as he and Webb arrive on the scene.
"Don't worry about us, Gunny, do what you've got to do."
"Yes, Sir." Gunny moves off to aid the digging operation.
"What'd you do, take Kabir on yourself?" Webb asks as he approaches us.
"Feels like it," I comment.
"I'll save you the embarrassment by not asking how," Webb says.
"Mac…Harm," Terri acknowledges as she approaches us.
"Commander," I nod courteously to her.
"Lieutenant Commander Teresa Coulter, Clayton Webb, CIA," Mac introduces the two, "She's doing our forensics."
"Can you brighten my day, Commander?" Webb asks.
"Yes and no," she answers looking a little upset, she has a zip lock bag in her hand. "This was attached to a male finger found in the rubble in building six. Kabir's name was inscribed inside."
"You're saying we got him?" Webb asks.
"I still have a battery of DNA tests to run, but it is the most definitive indication yet," Terri comments.
"May I see it?" Webb asks.
She hands him the bag, "Sure."
Webb turns it around and looks on the inside of the band, "Wait, there's more written here."
"It's a gift," says Terri, "It says 'blessed eternity' followed by another name."
"Osama Bin Laden?"
She nods, "Correct."
"What's the bad news?" asks Webb.
"Three of the bodies found indicate signs of radiation poisoning," Terri answers, "The wreckage of building two is also hot, but no materials have been found."
"Maybe they were building something," I suggest.
"Or transporting it," says Webb, "Any of the vehicles radioactive?"
"No."
"That would mean it's gone," Mac concludes.
"I understand there is a truck missing," Terri says, "Some Al Queda are believed to have slipped away during the attack."
"Gunny!" calls out one of the soldiers, "We just pulled Fareeza from the wreckage of building six." Gunny looks pained and looks over to us before heading for building six.
"Talk to me, Gunny," his Corporal pleads, holding up his hand to try and slow Gunny down.
"Out of my way, Corporal," Gunny orders.
"This will just take a minute," the Corporal insists.
Gunny stops, "Is it serious?" We step up behind him.
"Yeah. She's dead," answers the Corporal.
Gunny, stunned, turns away from the group, "Oh, no…" he says softly, grabbing his head, "Oh, my god…"
"Just happened. I'm sorry," offers the Corporal empathetic to his leader.
"Was she ever conscious?" asks Webb.
"I have her story," the Corporal answers.
"Well, let's hear it, Corporal," I request firmly. The Corporal digs his little notebook out of his pocket and Gunny fights back tears, while Mac looks appropriately sorry.
"Fareeza said that she, uh tried to warn the residents to stay in the night of the attack on Kabir," the Corporal reports, "At the first hut, she came across two men. They were claiming to be local militia. He told the family that the village was about to be bombed, and that they ought to flee the same direction that he was going."
"Smart bastard," exclaims Webb.
"Fareeza tried to explain who Kabir was and that he was trying to set them up just so he could escape," the Corporal continues, "She even told them that the reason they picked them was because they had the same color truck."
"Why didn't they believe her?" Webb asks.
"Kabir told them she was CIA, and that she was working with a rival tribe that had been threatening the village for decades," the Corporal tells us.
"Did she say why she was with them?" Gunny asks.
"He forced her, he figured he was less likely to be spotted if he was half of a couple."
Gunny nods, on the verge of tears again, "Thanks." He moves toward Fareeza and I pat him on the upper arm in condolence. We watch as Gunny kneels beside her body. He gently pulls the blanket away from her face and looks at her for a moment; he covers his face with his hand and shakes his head.
"Nuestro amor de es el nino del padre cru-el," Webb recites gently.
"What?" Mac asks curiously.
"It's a song lyric," Webb says, "It means: our love is the child of a cruel father," he glances down at Gunny for another moment before turning and walking away.
Mac's POV
After giving Gunny the time he needed, Harm and I approached him, "Hey, you okay?" I ask him, maternal instincts kicking in.
"Yes, Ma'am," he says rising to his feet, "I was just thinking what it must have been like for Kabir while Fareeza was with him."
"Not the other way around?" Harm asks.
"Oh, she was a pistol, Sir," Gunny says with a smile, "There was anything she wasn't passionate about; especially the state of her country. She must have chewed a hole in his ear with her diatribes." Harm and I exchange a glance and Gunny continues, "The irony is, she wasn't in love with me…a one-way street. Guess that makes me look like a fool."
"Not in my book," I reply as if talking to one of my children and Gunny shares a long, meaningful look with me; everyone knew by now that Harm and I had thought the same thing about each other, before we got together.
"Listen, Gunny, this may come as little consolation, but you will be cleared in our report," Harm starts solemnly, "You had no way of knowing."
"Thank you, sir," he answers gratefully.
"And you deserved better from us than our skepticism," I add.
"No, I was never offended, Ma'am," Gunny tells me, "What goes on in this part of the world—it's a lot bigger than me. Important thing is, we got our man."
Back at base camp…
"I wish I had better news," Terri tells us looking at all her information, "Unfortunately, I've been unable to locate any other body parts that match the DNA from the finger we've confirmed was Kabir's."
"Could the rest of him been incinerated?" Harm asks.
"Even then, there would have been bones, teeth, something," she answers.
"How do you account for the finger?" I ask in full investigator mode.
"Well, the tissue was charred, which obscured how it was removed," Terri replies, "On closer inspection, I realized it had been severed not torn off as you'd expect in an explosion."
"Like with a knife?" asks Webb.
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"To put us off the scent," answers Harm, "Make us think he was dead."
"He cut off his own finger?" I ask repulsed by the idea.
"That's my theory," she answers.
"What kind of a man would do that?" I ask in disbelief.
"The kind of man who'd fly a passenger plane into a building," Gunny replies.
"Given Kabir's profile, it makes sense," Webb informs the group.
"Yeah, he most likely slipped away with the others, then," concludes Harm.
"Which means that not only is he still alive—so is his plan," Webb practically groans.
Later…
Harm and I pull to a stop near some rubble and exit our Humvee, "Captain Omar?" Harm asks.
"Yes," replies an Afghani soldier.
"I'm Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie, this is Commander Rabb," I introduced us.
"You are investigating Kabir, yes?" Captain Omar asks.
"Yeah. What can you tell us about him?" asks Harm.
"According to the locals, he stayed here only one night," the Captain answers, "He came in one truck and left in a different one. He hired a man from the village to drive the first truck over the border and then back to Qarqin for him."
"What's his name?" I ask.
"Mmm. Fareeq. Fareeq Mohammed," say Omar, pulling a photo from his pocket. "Kabir said to Fareeq--if he fails, Kabir kills his family."
"Did Fareeq ever return to Qarqin?" I ask.
"I have no idea," replies Captain Omar.
"Where is Qarqin?" Harm asks.
"Qarqin is near to the border with Uzbekistan, but you do not want to go there," Captain Omar answers.
"Why not?" I ask.
"The road to the village--very bad. Two tribes at war," the Captain explains, "Each man carries a gun. Fighting, killing every day. Your special forces is calling it wild, wild west."
"Hmm. Then we should feel right at home," I answer with a wry smile.
1026 ZULU
ON THE ROAD TO QARQIN
AFGHANISTAN
"There's nothing out here," Harm says over the noise of the engine.
"It's the right road. I just doubled-checked it," I answer looking around and then back down at the map, all of sudden we hear rapid gunfire.
"That sounded like AK-47 fire," Harm glances around.
"It sure did," I agree and we both look around the surrounding area. A couple of gunmen come over a ridge and continue to fire on us, we both reach for our weapons as the Humvee gets hit in several places, including three bullet holes in the windshield. Harm keeps on driving until we pass through the free-fire zone.
"I think we're clear. Are you okay?" Harm asks eyeing me carefully.
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah."
"Do you smell that?" I ask getting a whiff of fuel, glancing behind us to make sure we were really clear of the danger.
"Diesel fuel," Harm answers.
"Yeah."
"They must have hit the fuel tank," Harm concludes, "There's a patch kit in the back. I think I can fix it," He answers pulling to the side of the road.
"Harm?" I ask sometime later keeping watch as he fixes the tank from underneath the Humvee. As he crawls out from underneath I ask, "You ever thought about how you want to go?"
"No," he answers bluntly, standing up, out of breath, "Look, this thing is fixed. Let's pack up and get out of here, huh?"
"I want to die like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," I continue ignoring his attempt to change the subject.
"Oh, yeah?" Harm asks, coming back to the topic, "Well, which one am I going to be, then?"
"Butch, of course," I reply simply thinking of the polite manners and good looks of the infamous duo.
"Well, that's true," Harm snorts as he pours gas into the tank, "He was the brains of the operation."
"Hmm. Yeah, but Sundance was the shooter that everyone was afraid of," I return, "That's how I want to go--in a blaze of glory against impossible odds."
"Come on, Mac, enough of this morbid subject," Harm interrupts, "Our life is full of life and I don't know about you but I'm ready to get back to two of those lives, hopefully a third one soon."
"Yeah, I want something really important at stake," I continue barely listening to him. My children's lives I would die for, Harm I would die for.
"Mac, enough," Harm insists, "stop thinking like that, I'm serious. Now when did Harriet say would be a good time to call?"
"Come on, Harm, play along," I cajole.
"All right, what about after?" Harm says coming around to get in the driver's seat, "You know, when you're dead. If you choose cremation they shove your body in a furnace and…bake you. You know what burns first?"
"You got me, Harm," I reply, happy that he gave in, getting back in the Humvee.
"Your hair. Then your skin crackles and boils," Harm answers, with a grin as he takes off down the road, knowing he has finally grossed me out to the point I didn't want to discuss this anymore.
"Stop it. You win," I call over the noisy engine.
"And when the marrow in the bones boil..." he continues, as if he hadn't heard me.
"You won!" I exclaim.
"...The bones actually explode."
"Stop it!" Finally I just lean over a nibble on his ear until he stops. "What were you saying about the kids?"
NEXT MORNING…
Harm drove along the road as I tried to sleep in the passenger seat, I feel his eyes on me for a few moments before a sudden jolt causes me to sit up and open my eyes. I look around, realizing that it's morning, "Harm, you drove all night? Why didn't you wake me to do a shift?"
"It's no big deal. I was on a roll," Harm says, stifling a yawn.
"Well, let me take over now," I offer realizing he must be exhausted considering how tired I actually was.
"I'm fine," Harm insists, focusing on the road.
"Stop. Pull over. Right now, Commander," I order him, knowing he wont let me pull the rank card no matter how hard I try.
"Or what?" Harm asks glancing at me from his seat.
"Or you'll prove that you're a hopeless control freak," I answer with a smile, eliciting a hearty chuckle from Harm.
We both lose our smiles as Harm approaches a canvas covered heavy truck, "Looks like the vehicle we're after."
"Yes, it does," I reply softly grabbing my weapon from the back of the Humvee, Harm grabs his too, and we step out of the vehicle.
"I'm moving in," Harm whispers, creeping up to the back of the truck and lifts the canvas flap. Nothing catches his attention, so he drops the flap and moves toward the front. He checks under the vehicle as I move around the other side of the truck.
"Clear," I call coming around the front of the truck.
"Clear," Harm calls back, he takes note of the driver slumped over the steering wheel, "Mac…"
"Oh, god. Biological weapon?" I ask as Harm pulls a photo from his pocket.
"Maybe," he answers, holding the photo close to the man's face, "Looks like the guy we're after."
"Yes, it does."
"You know, Mac...this could also be radiation poisoning," Harm says we glance at each other and quickly back away from the truck.
0539 ZULU
QARQIN, AFGHANISTAN
Harm's POV
Mac and I arrived in Qarqin; another vehicle driving past us and noticing the driver of said vehicle was sweating profusely and coughing heavily. His truck was filled with dead bodies being taken out of Qarqin.
"Do you see that?" I ask looking over to her as she watched the truck pull on down the road.
She nods, "They look like the truck driver, Fareeq," taking a deep breath she exhales slowly thinking about what she just saw.
"We've got to get a medical evaluation team in here immediately," I tell her reaching to turn the ignition.
"You realize we could already be exposed," Mac remarks, I just give her a look as not wanting to think about those possibilities at the moment.
0750 ZULU
TRIAGE CENTER
OUTSIDE QARQIN, AFGHANISTAN
I pass several men, wearing medical contamination suits and yelling out instructions in their native language, on my way into the hospital tent where Mac is. She was watching as the doctor confirms that a little girl has just died.
She sighs, "They've confirmed radiation poisoning. The doc wants us back on the Seahawk for testing."
"I just spoke with the RADCON team. They did a thorough search and survey," I tell her, "There's minimal residual radiation. The human body doesn't retain high levels, so..."
"Clothes do, but they've been removed," Mac answers studying the people around the tent.
"Exactly. So it's unlikely we've, uh, been exposed," I reply hopefully.
"Minimal residual means that whatever did this is gone," she remarks, "The question is, where did it come from? Where did it go?" I glanced around at all the people in the tent that are being treated.
"What are you doing, Harm?" Mac asks watching me carefully, "Harm? "What are you thinking?"
"You know what these victims all have in common, Mac?" I ask my brain running a thousand miles a second, "They're Chechen. Remember Commander Aiken? The murder you and Sturgis investigated back in Washington?"
"She was killed by a Chechen," she recalls, "His confession led us to a boat filled with 30 kilos of weapons-grade Uranium. We caught it before it sailed from Russia, but...what if we didn't get all of it?"
"Could have smuggled it here, to Afghanistan," I theorize, glancing around once again, "These Chechens guarded it."
"Kabir. Gunny said that he and a truck escaped into Iran. Could have been a truck with uranium," Mac follows my lead, deep in her own thoughts.
"Unshielded uranium," I reply carefully.
"Which means that Kabir was exposed for quite some time," Mac adds.
0900 ZULU
USS SEAHAWK
ARABIAN SEA
Mac's POV
Once back on the Seahawk Harm and I were ordered straight to sickbay to get checked out. After they drew blood and conducted many numerous tests they decided that neither one of us had radiation poisoning. "JAGs to bridge," the loud intercom interrupted our walk back to our rooms to change.
"JAGs reporting as ordered," Harm announced once we reached the bridge, Bud having already arrived.
"Suit up Commander, we need you to get in the air," the Captain ordered, "Colonel, I imagine you'll want to be here during the flight."
"Yes sir," I replied carefully concealing my emotions.
Harm and Lieutenant Commander Chaidez prepare for launch…Harm had promised to be as careful as possible.
"Captain, this is Pri-Fly. Shooter flight is spotted and ready for launch." The voice cackled over the speaker.
"Launch 'em," orders Johnson and they go.
Harm and Chaidez wait patiently guarding the ship, "Shooter flight, we have a target bearing 1-4-niner. Range, 3-0 miles. Speed, 400 knots," reports the Seahawk.
"Shooter one, roger."
"Intercept course plotted and on your screen, Sir."
"Got it. Tally ho," says Lieutenant Commander Chaidez.
"Missile closing. Range two-five miles."
"Should I clear the flight deck and take nuclear protection steps, Sir?" Seahawk's XO asks the skipper.
"Negative, XO. Too much radiation," says Johnson. "If they don't take it out at least ten miles from us, above or below decks, we're all dead."
"I've got no joy, Shooter One," Harm voice floats through the almost silent bridge, "Have you acquired the target?"
"Negative, Shooter Two, no joy."
"Lieutenant Jorgensen I need acquisition," Harm orders his RIO, "Lock on that missile."
"I'm trying, Sir," she answers, her voice shaking.
"Range, two zero miles." I feel several pairs of eyes on me but I continue to look out into the sky hoping for a sign of Harm.
"Tally-ho. Missile ahead. I've got a lock," says Chaidez.
" It's too late, Sir. It's only eight miles from the carrier," says Lieutenant Jorgenson, Harm's RIO.
"Shooter one, hold fire! Hold fire!" Harm orders, there is silence from Harm's side.
"Shooter Two, get out of there!"
"Negative, Shooter One. It'll acquire me, and I'll lead it away," Harm explains. The man is crazy, I groan to myself the edges of the world becoming slightly gray.
"It won't work. It's GPS targeted," says Shooter Two. I focus back in on the radio transmission.
"It has to switch to radar to hit a moving target like the Seahawk. It's our only hope, Shooter One," Harm replies, "It's too close to the carrier now."
"Give it a go, Shooter Two," says Chaidez.
"It's a dirty nuke, Sir," says his RIO. "It could be just be set to blow up at targeted coordinates."
"Can't be, Lieutenant. That would ruin our day," Harm replies calmly.
"What haven't they shot it down?" asks Davis.
"Shooter Two has acquired the missile and it's locked onto him. It's following…Range two miles…One mile…Passing port side…"
"Roger, CIC," says a crewman as Johnson, Davis, Bud, and I all move to the port side window and watch as Harm shoots by with the missile hot on his after burners, while Shooter Two follows behind the missile.
"Missile is departing the area."
The whole crew cheers. I feel myself relax a little now he just has to keep ahead of it. "Two miles."
"Shooter Two, you're too close. It has a proximity sensor. It's going to blow," exclaims Shooter One.
"We'll make it Shooter One," Harm assures him.
"We're five miles from the carrier" reports Lieutenant Jorgenson.
"I can ride it up, but it's still risky. Should run out of fuel anytime now," says Chaidez.
"Bogey's flaming out," says Jorgenson.
"Let's hope it doesn't blow on impact," says Harm as the missile begins to fall to the sea. It doesn't blow on impact. "Send the Seahawk to coordinates where the missile flamed out. RADCON will need to recover that warhead."
"I think I've had enough adrenaline for one day. How about you, Sir?" asks Jorgenson.
Harm laughs, "I was just getting warmed up…Let's take it home." That's the last thing I hear before letting myself fall into the darkness that'd been trying to consume me since this whole mess started.
The next thing I know I'm being slowly roused by Harm, "Hey, what'd you go and do that for?" he asks smiling a little.
"What happened?" I asked starting to sit up only to realize I was better off on my back.
"Well Colonel you fainted," the doctor approaches the foot of my bed as Harm helps me sit up. "It seems that you Colonel didn't wait for all the results of your blood tests."
"What's wrong?" Harm asks squeezing my hand tightly, settling on the edge of my bed.
"She's just a little anemic, which is to be expected in the first trimester," the doctor answers, "we'll give her a small supplement, but I recommend that you see your OB as soon as you home."
"Wait," I interrupt, "pregnant?" I ask in slight disbelieve, we had been trying but I hadn't experienced any of the symptoms.
"Judging by the answers on the form you filled out when you got here I'd say less than two weeks," he answered as if reading my mind.
"Your going home," Harm practically ordered as the doctor left us alone, "no arguing, as soon as things are cleared up here I'll be there too."
"We need to talk about this," I sighed, "how are we going to tell the twins?"
"We'll deal with that later I'm just concerned about getting you home," he pulled me up from the bed as the doctor came back with a pill for me to take.
0845 Zulu
USS Seahawk
North Arabian Sea
Harm's POV
I was able to get things cleared up and would be accompanying Mac back stateside on the COD. I had everything packed and flight vest and goggles for both by the time I reached her door. I knocked on the hatch to Mac's stateroom, even though we were married with children we were expected to maintain a certain amount of decorum, "Who is it?"
"Harm." A little curious as to why she would ask that, who else would be knocking on her door.
"Uh, just a second…" She calls through the thick steel door.
"Come on, Mac—What are you doing? Open up," I wonder.
"Uh, packing."
"Well, open up. Let me help."
"I'm also dressing," I hear the smile in her voice, she probably shouldn't let me in, we wouldn't make it to the COD if she did.
"I can help with that, too."
She's buttoning her blouse when she opens the hatch starting to comment, "Put you on a carrier and you revert to…" She stops mid sentence seeing me standing there with her vest and helmet. "…Um… a truly considerate husband and fellow officer. Thanks you."
"Your welcome," I reply with a wide grin.
"I was going to pick these up on the way to the COD," Mac answers.
"Sturgis is heloing in from the Watertown. I thought you might like to join me on the flight deck in giving him a hero's welcome," I reply, watching her as she tries to cram the last of her stuff into her duffel. Mac picks up two books and studies them.
"What's the problem?" I ask, stepping over the knee-knocker into the room.
"Oh, I… I only have room for one book."
"You sure you can't fit them both in?"
"No, I'm packed too tight," she explains examining them closely, "I only have room for one."
I reach for one of the books, "Nelson De Mille, huh?"
"Uh huh." Mac hands me the other, too.
"Tom Clancy." I weigh the books carefully in my hands, checking for book marks, "They're both book-marked halfway through."
"Yeah, I'm reading both at the same time," she answers.
"You're kidding," I ask, offering her another huge grin, of course I knew she read more than one book at a time.
"Well sometimes I read five or six books at one time. What's wrong with that?" Mac smiles back.
"Well, nothing except when you can't fit 'em in your luggage," I motion toward her bag.
"Can you take one?" Mac asks.
"I'm packed as tightly as you are," I inform her, and then I look down at the books. "I know…" I open them both up to where they're book-marked, and placing one inside the other, rips them in two. I smile, proud of myself for such a brilliant idea.
"Harm…" She accepts her book halves in surprise.
"Just take the halves you haven't read," I answer and she scoffs in disbelief, "Come on, we got to go—throw your shoes on." I tap the doorway and take off down the corridor, hoping to avoid a tongue-lashing.
On the Seahawk...
"And I bet they toasted you in all three wardrooms after that stunt you pulled on Friday," comments Sturgis as he, Mac and I descend several ladders.
"You were on a sub. How'd you know Harm flew that mission?" Mac asks, surprised.
"I heard a naval aviator got a cruise missile up his six and had to fly halfway to India to run it out of fuel," Sturgis replies, "Only Superman, here, would be fool enough to pull a stunt like that."
"Yeah well, I bet Alec Baldwin would have nailed that sub before it launched a missile," I retort wondering what else he heard down there.
"Hey Harm—we tried," says Sturgis, "That sub got a missile off just as we— Who told you about Alec Baldwin?"
I slow down letting Mac and Sturgis catch up and turn back to Sturgis, "Lieutenant Singer told everyone at JAG you convinced the action group that you were Alec Baldwin."
"Well, actually she said it was Sean Connery," Mac adds with a chuckle as we begin moving again, "but Harriet knew who she meant."
"Yeah. Harriet e-mailed Bud, that's how we found out about it. But I'm sure with Singer's mouth, half of DC knows by know that you think you're Alec Baldwin." I laugh and poke Sturgis lightly in the chest.
"Sean Connery," Mac adds with another chuckle.
"I will strangle that Lieutenant when we get back," Sturgis says.
"Well, you have at least 18 hours to wait," Mac says, "We're on a COD to Bahrain at 1700 and then a commercial jet to DC."
"Hardly gives me time to report aboard, let alone shower," Sturgis remarks as he enters the JAG stateroom, "By the way, where is Lieutenant Roberts?"
"In-country at a school dedication," Mac says, following Sturgis.
"Probably having the time of his life," I add following.
"JAG on the bridge," calls the Master at Arms as we enter. I reach the Captain and salute. "JAGs reporting as ordered, Sir," I report as I'm sure, Mac and Sturgis offer their salutes behind me.
"At ease," Captain Johnson orders returning our salutes, he takes a slight breath. "Lieutenant Roberts has been injured in Afghanistan." My eyes must have popped out of my head at that announcement, "He stepped on a land mine."
Mac gasps lightly before glancing up at me and back to Captain Johnson, "How serious is it, Skipper?" asks Sturgis.
"His injuries are too severe to risk airlifting him to Germany."
"Will he be heloed here or to the LHA, Sir?" she asks.
"Guadalcanal. Her facilities and doctors are in place for this type of ground injury," replies Johnson.
"Request an immediate helo to the Guadalcanal, Sir—for the three of us," I say, as much as I want Mac back at home I think we all need to be there for Bud.
"Commander, you are all under orders to travel. Your COD leaves for Bahrain in less than an hour," answers the Skipper, "I know how close you are to the Lieutenant…there's simply not enough time."
"Sir…" Mac begins.
"Understood, Sir," I cut in, coming to attention. Mac just gives me a look but at the moment I ignore it and continue, "Permission to leave the bridge, Sir?"
"Granted." He salutes back as Mac and Sturgis salute him before turning to follow Harm off the bridge. I lead the three of us back down to the JAG stateroom.
"Harm we can't leave not knowing if Bud's going to make it," Mac calls after me, as I rush through the narrow corridors.
"Orders are orders, Mac," Sturgis answers following after Mac who is hurrying after me.
"Until they're changed," I pick up the phone as soon as I get in the stateroom requesting a ship to shore connection. After getting through Tiner the first thing out of the Admiral's mouth was not something I wanted to answer.
"Tell me it wasn't Bud." I quickly explain the situation, "Damnit," he curses softly, I start questioning if we could all stay and wait for through this with Bud. "Yeah … yeah … Commander, I-I can't spare all of you. One can stay as a Seahawk JAG to re… replace Roberts. Decide who that'll be and keep me informed."
I sit back in my chair with a sigh after having hung up with the Admiral. Mac and Sturgis are waiting for me to say something.
"Well?" Sturgis asks after a momentary, but apparently too lengthy silence from me.
"One of us is to remain on board to fill Bud's billet. The original orders stand for the other two." Mac glances at Sturgis
"Who stays?" Sturgis asks glancing between us.
"That's up to us," I come to my feet, "I think at least one of us needs to go home to take care of the kids so Harriet can get out here," I tell Mac.
"I'll go, I've already been ordered to leave," she smiles a little placing a hand on her lower abdomen.
"You've both known Bud longer, I'll go," Sturgis offers as well.
Mac looks at me, "So…you'll stay here and take care of Bud and Harriet."
"Sturgis are you sure you want to go?" I ask, I'm being selfish and I don't have a right to, but I'd much rather go home with my wife and hug my kids and godson than stay here and possibly be the bearer of bad news.
"I figured you'd want to stay, but I can stay if you need me to," he answers amicably.
"Tell Bud we'll see him we he gets home," I reach out to shake his hand wrapping an arm around Mac knowing I made the right decision.
"Okay what's going on with you two?" Sturgis asks watching us carefully.
"Well due to medical reasons I have to report back stateside," Mac replies, " and I'm not exactly sure what's gotten into this one," she squeezes me tightly.
"Hey I have to stick with my family right now, as much as Bud is family I need to take care of mine and his," I reply softly laying a kiss on Mac's head.
"You okay Mac? Nothing serious," Sturgis asks as I release Mac and pull on vest and helmet handing hers over and grabbing our duffels.
"Very serious," Mac answers, "it seems he's done it again, I'm pregnant."
"Congratulations, I'll be sure to let Bud know."
"Thanks," She answers softly, "now we've got to get out of here."
"I'll see you when I get back," Sturgis replies.
0900 ZULU
ROBERTS' RESIDENCE
ROSSLYN, VIRGINIA
Mac's POV
We'd come straight from the airport to here, not even bothering to change. Harm knocked on the door hoping not to wake little AJ this early, but hoping that Harriet was either up or would hear. But it was a bleary eyed Midshipman that opened the door.
"Sir, ma'am, what are you doing here?" he asked straightening his stance, "Uh sorry, please come in."
"That's alright Mikey, we just came to pick up the kids, we've got you and Harriet booked on a flight for Germany in a couple hours," Harm ushered me inside. We had gotten the second seat thinking that someone needed to accompany her, even if it ended up being Harm.
"Thank you sir," he showed us to the living room where the TV was playing on mute. I looked around curiously, "couldn't sleep, ma'am."
"Is Harriet awake?" I asked, "and please call us Harm and Mac."
"I don't know if she's awake or not, but she's up stairs in their room, I figured she wanted to be alone for a while."
"I'll go check on her and help her pack," I squeezed Harm's hand before heading up the stairs. I reached the closed door to the master bedroom knocking lightly before opening the door. Harriet was curled up on the bed in Bud's sweats crying softly, "Harriet?"
"Colonel, what are you doing here?" she asked sitting up and wiping at her eyes, "I thought you would be with Bud."
"Sturgis stayed," I answered, not wanting to get into all the details, "we've got you and Mikey booked for a flight," I told her settling on the edge of the bed.
"You didn't have to do that," she replies sniffling, "I'll pay you back."
"Don't worry about it," I try to smile softly and not let myself fall apart right now, "Harm and I will take AJ and you and Mikey will go stay with Bud, until they bring you back stateside."
"No, I nee—need to take care of AJ, he's my re—why is this happening?" she finally broke down, crying on my shoulder, "what did we ever do to deserve this?"
"You didn't do anything," I replied softly as she sat up again, "now we need to get you packed and to the airport. Do you want to take AJ?"
"You sure you don't mind taking him?" she asked resetting herself, "Mikey can stay here and take him."
"You need someone with you, we'll take him and you can call whenever you want," I promised, as she handed me the suitcase and started going through her closet, "you probably want to take at least one uniform." She handed that over as well, before I zipped up the suitcase, "I'll take this to Harm and you put some things together for AJ."
Harm met me at the bottom of the staircase accepting the suitcase and then following me back up to gather Alex and Aidan up as well.
1232 ZULU
RABB RESIDENCE
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
Harm's POV
I was lying awake in bed, trying to make myself sleep. I should sleep, I'm tired enough that it shouldn't be a problem but my brain won't shut down. How did we get so lucky? I stepped on a mine, we'd both been exposed to radiation poison, I played tag with a dirty nuke, we find out we're having another baby and that he or she is okay, and yet somehow Bud's the one who gets hurt. How is that fair?
"Unka Hawm?" A small voice asked from behind me and I rolled over to find the small blond boy fiddling with the sheet on the edge of the bed.
"Hey buddy," I whispered sitting up swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.
"Mommy said Daddy got a big boo-boo," he pouted a little, "she said we won't be able to see him until the doctors let him come back home."
"Yeah," I sighed a little pulling him up to sit in my lap, "you know what though? You're probably going to be staying here until then, because Mommy went to be with Daddy, is that okay?"
"What are you two talking about over there?" Mac rolled over against my back grabbing AJ's hand.
"Daddy," AJ answered hugging Mac's hand to him, "Unka Hawm said I might get to stay hewe," he replied looking down and playing with Mac's fingers.
"Yeah," she answered, her arm circling my waist, "that's okay isn't it?"
"I guess," he sulked a little more, "can we go get Alex and Aidan now?"
"Sure," I laughed, how easy it was for a three year old to shift gears. "Tell you what you go wake them up and we'll be right there," I smiled setting him on his own two feet.
"I think they're all going to be okay," Mac sighed hugging me tightly.
"We all are, we just have to have faith that this is the way things are supposed to work out," I replied, "you feeling okay? No morning sickness or anything?"
"Not at the moment but if that changes I'll let you know," she smiled pulling herself from bed and following AJ down the hall.
I'm so blessed and now I can't wait to go hug my kids and kiss my wife.
THE END