Disclaimer: None of the JAG characters are mine, they belong to Donald Bellisario and CBS and whatnot.

And here's chapter two of the two-part update! See previous chapter for notes regarding that. Read, review, and above all enjoy! Rescue should be in a chapter or two! Heh, so I reread the beginning of this chapter and realized I listed the wrong charges that carry a penalty of death, fixed that now. (be kinda odd if disrepecting an officer could get you killed)

Sturgis frowned slightly, shooting a surreptitious glance at Mac. Was she being charged with something? If so he sincerely hoped the General was not asking them to prosecute her. Hearing the General clear his throat Sturgis looked back at his CO apologetically. Cresswell didn't seem to care; rather he was considering the best way to phrase his next words. After a pause he continued, opting for bluntness, "Lieutenant Vukovic is to stand before an Article 32 hearing on the charges of disobeying a direct order, misbehavior before the enemy, conduct unbecoming, and reckless endangerment."

Both men's eyes widened in shock and they swiftly exchanged glances before looking at Mac. Mac gazed straight ahead, her face expressionless. Tentatively Bud commented, "Sir, charges of disobeying a direct order in a time of war and misbehavior before the enemy can carry a penalty of death."

Cresswell looked at the Lt. Commander blandly, "Yes, I know."

Sturgis spoke up, his dark eyes reflecting puzzlement, "Sir, what do you want the Commander and I to do?"

General Cresswell glanced at his other senior attorney, "I want you to sit first chair for the government, Commander Roberts will sit second chair."

"What about the defense, sir?" Bud asked curiously, clearly puzzled though he didn't seem to disapprove of the assignments.

Cresswell sighed slightly, "I'll be assigning someone from out of office to defend the lieutenant." He looked over at Sturgis, a faintly amused and knowing smile on his face, "Since I doubt anyone in the office would be willing to do so." Sturgis nodded slightly in agreement, exchanging another look with Bud. Cresswell watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, "This going to be a problem, Commanders?"

Both looked back, automatically straightening in their chairs as they answered simultaneously, "No, sir!"

Mac hid a smile at the reaction. Cresswell nodded firmly, "Good. I'll have the actual case files for you in a couple of hours. Dismissed."

Both men rose to their feet and came to attention, "Aye, aye, sir." With a final look at Mac the pair turned and left. Mac could hear them begin to speak animatedly as soon as they were through the door. She looked back at the general and realized he was watching her curiously.

She subconsciously straightened as best she could with her ribs. After a moment the General stood and paced to the window, staring outside. He spoke quietly, "I imagine the Commanders will want to talk to you and call you as a witness."

She frowned slightly at his back, unsure of where he was going with this. She replied cautiously, "Yes, sir."

He nodded, mostly to himself then continued speaking conversationally, "Your report corroborates what Captain Ingles and Colonel Peterson said about the situation. Admittedly yours was quite a bit more detailed since you experienced it all first hand."

Mac nodded, though he couldn't see her, "Yes, sir."

General Cresswell grinned at the window, amused at her answer, "yes, sir" the ubiquitous answer to whatever your CO says when you have no idea how to answer. He turned back to face her, his grin vanishing. "Have you heard anything about Commander Rabb, Colonel?" He smiled slightly at the surprise on her face, "Captain Ingles mentioned that he was planning to keep you informed."

"Oh. No, sir. Captain Ingles called Wednesday and said they didn't have anything yet. He did mention the CIA was looking as well," Mac frowned slightly as she said that. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the help but she had a distinct feeling that Webb wasn't offering the help solely out of the goodness of his heart. Nor was she sure he'd do it out of friendship after everything that had happened, there was an ulterior motive there, she knew it. Dismissing the thought from her mind for now she added, "He's supposed to call again later today."

Cresswell nodded, somewhat relieved. That meant that she didn't know about the pictures, at least not yet. In fact, he wasn't sure Captain Ingles would know about them as they'd come through the in country base and been forwarded directly to the states. But then again, if Captain Ingles was keeping tabs on the investigation for her, chances were Colonel Peterson would tell him. And by extension, he'd probably tell her. That wasn't a terribly cheerful thought. Well, there wasn't much he could do about it short of calling Captain Ingles himself and asking the other man not to tell her.

He promptly dismissed that idea, he wouldn't ask the Captain to break his word and lie to the Colonel. He supposed he'd have to settle for the Captain not knowing the specifics of the photos. Of course that meant Mac would be back in his office asking for details. Hopefully he'd have answers by then. Realizing the Colonel was looking at him in concern he nodded again, "Thank you for coming, Colonel, though you didn't need to. I appreciate you bringing all this to my attention."

Mac nodded, "You're welcome, sir. If I may?"

"Of course, you're dismissed. Oh, and Colonel?" She paused in the act of getting up, shooting him a curious glance. He smiled, "How've you been doing?"

Mac sighed and stood, balancing carefully on the crutches, "I've definitely been better, sir."

He chuckled softly at that, "I can imagine. I'll see you in a week then."

She smiled and shook her head, "Sooner than that, sir. I'm sure I'll be back in next week to talk to Commander Turner and Commander Roberts."

"Right, of course."

Mac came to attention and turned to leave. As she did so something caught her eyes. Pausing she glanced at the floor, noticing what appeared to be a photograph lying picture side down just under the edge of the General's desk. It appeared to have drifted off the desk and too the floor. Setting one crutch aside she bent over and snagged the corner. As she straightened she asked, "General, is this yours?" She held out the photograph, unthinkingly turning it face up as she did so.

General Cresswell looked up, he'd just settled back into his chair. His eyes fell on the photo and he stiffened. Slowly he dragged his gaze back up to look at Mac, hoping against hope that she hadn't actually looked at the image. It was definitely a futile hope as the Colonel was standing stock still, staring at the picture of an unconscious Harm in stunned silence. The General sighed and covered his face with his hand for a brief moment. When he lowered his hand he noticed Mac hadn't moved a muscle, still staring uncomprehending at the photograph in her hand.

He watched her carefully, waiting for a reaction. Not receiving one he asked cautiously, "Colonel MacKenzie?" He reached for the picture, hoping to take it back before she dropped it, or threw it at him.

Finally she raised her eyes to meet his, subconsciously pulling the picture closer to her, out of the General's reach. He sighed and lowered his hand, waiting for Mac to speak. She stared at him in silence for a long moment before speaking, her voice quiet and deceptively calm, "What is this?"

The General sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, oh yeah, bad day. "Have a seat, Colonel." He waited until she'd reseated herself then pulled the manila envelope towards him. He gazed at her a long moment, warring with himself about how much to tell her. The look in her eyes made him decide, she wasn't going to leave until he explained, and if she did leave she'd raise hell until she found out what was going on. He answered quietly, "They were delivered this morning, about twenty minutes before you arrived."

"I see," her voice was carefully neutral. She still clutched the picture and her gaze dropped back to it. In it Harm was sprawled on the floor, clearly unconscious. His face was bruised and she could see multiple rips in his shirt, the same beige shirt he'd been wearing when they were captured. His BDU pants were mostly in one piece though quite a bit worse for wear. He sported a week's worth of beard, his hair laying flat with dirt and oil. He looked like he'd been rolled in the dirt, the exposed portions of his skin covered in sweat and sand. Carefully she perused the image, taking in every detail. She wasn't a doctor, couldn't tell the extent of his injuries just by looking at the photo. But she could see some, it was obvious his right arm was broken, his left looked odd but she wasn't sure what was wrong with it. There were spots of blood on both his shirt and pants and his left foot was at a slightly unnatural angle inside his boot. Gently she rested her fingertips on his face, closing her eyes briefly against the tears that threatened. Looking back up she queried, doing her best to speak past the lump in her throat, "You said 'they'?"

General Cresswell nodded slightly, still studying her reaction. She forced a wavering smile, putting as brave of a face on as she could muster, "May I see the others?" He sighed, debating whether to agree or not. Mac's smile faded immediately, her gaze slightly watery with the unshed tears that she couldn't quite force back. Her eyes dropped back to the picture in her lap.

Quietly he pointed out, trying to protect her as best he could, "You won't like them."

She shook her head slightly another slight smile appearing briefly, "No, I'm sure I won't, sir." She met his eyes once more, mustering all the resolve she could. When she spoke again her voice was firm, "But I need to see them, please, sir." He could see the effort it took for her to say it, but he could also see the clear determination in her eyes. He grunted to himself, the people who thought Rabb was the one reacting on emotion obviously hadn't tangled with MacKenzie on anything approaching personal. Maybe I should revise their files, add a note saying they're both prone to emotional decisions.

Mac gazed at him steadily, waiting patiently for his answer. After a tense moment the General exhaled resignedly, picking up the envelope. He knew she was going to find out one way or another, at least this way the situation was somewhat controllable. He hoped. Slowly he extended his arm, holding the envelope within her reach. Taking a deep breath she took it, staring blankly it for a long moment.

After another deep breath she flipped the envelope over, sliding the stack of pictures out. There was complete silence as she thumbed through them, stopping every once in a while to study one closer. Cresswell watched her steadily, hands folded on his desk as he waited for her to look at them. She stopped for a long moment at one photo, staring at it dully. It was a close up of Harm's face, before he was unconscious. She could almost feel his blue eyes boring into her own. In his eyes she could see his despair and pain. Her hand trembled as she touched the image, as if touching it would make it vanish. She didn't stop the tear that made its way down her cheek.

Cresswell had no idea how to respond. One part of him wanted to be gruff, remind her that she was a marine. But he could see the pain in her eyes, and he'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to see there was something between the pair. So he sat silently, unsure of what to do and not wanting to exacerbate the situation more. Finally she dragged her gaze back up to meet his eyes. He noticed she kept the picture of Harm's face on top, resting her fingers lightly on it. When she spoke he could hear the emotions that were barely held in check, but her words were clear and firm, "I need to be there, sir."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, "Be where, Colonel?"

"In Iraq, sir. I need to be there when they find him."

He promptly shook his head, "No, you're on medical leave."

"Sir, I have to be there."

"No, Colonel. I'm sorry, but you can't be. You're injured; you aren't cleared for even limited duty. The answer is no," he spoke as firmly as possible, not giving in inch. He was sympathetic but not insane.

He could see the storm brewing in her eyes, this conversation was about to take a downward spiral. She spoke firmly, dead set on getting her way, "Sir, with all due respect, I need to be in Iraq."

"Why? Why do you need to be there so badly, Colonel?"

She half smiled, "He would do the same for me."

"Not good enough, Colonel. There is no way I'm letting you go back to Iraq. You're not cleared for duty."

She sighed, glancing down at the picture again. She seemed to draw strength from it and when she looked back up Cresswell could see the fire simmering in her gaze, "In that case, sir, you'll have my resignation within the hour."

He was shocked, most definitely not the answer he'd been expecting. After a moment he found his voice again, "Excuse me?"

"I need to be there, sir. I will be there, and I will resign if necessary. I'll draw up the paperwork right now." She wasn't going to back down. He knew he'd lost this battle, if he didn't let her go she'd quit, if he did, he quite probably endangered her as well as any number of other people. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

Muttering irritably to himself Cresswell scrubbed his face with his hands, this day wasn't just bad, it was turning into a nightmare and it was barely 1100. His voice was testy, he knew this could quite possibly escalate into a full blown argument if he wasn't careful, "I won't let you do that, Colonel."

"You can't stop me, sir."

He leaned back in his chair, gazing at her in blatant irritation. She looked back calmly, face set with determination. Again he asked, "Why?"

He saw the shadow that passed over her expression as she answered quietly, "He did it for me."

Cresswell thought for a moment, mentally reviewing Rabb and MacKenzie's files. He remembered a time in Rabb's where the lawyer had resigned temporarily before his commission was reinstated. Come to think of it, though he hadn't really noticed before, that resignation coincided almost perfectly with a classified mission in MacKenzie's file. Wonderful, now he had two super hero wannabes. He frowned, irritated, "So what do you propose we do here, Colonel?"

Mac smiled slightly, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

He couldn't resist rolling his eyes, "Of course, I doubt I could stop you, Colonel."

"Thank you. Honestly, I propose you find a way to get me to Iraq, 'cause one way or another, I'm going."

He sighed heavily, "I knew you were going to say that. Fine, any bright ideas?"

She shrugged slightly, "Going over ROEs with the personnel, sir?"

"And where exactly am I to station you? Being on a carrier would be a tad difficult with the leg, and being in country is dangerous, again because of the leg."

She cocked her head at him, "Sir, there's injured personnel over there already, many worse off than me."

"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to Colonel Peterson and Captain Ingles and figure something out. Provided you take it easy, no running off to interview anyone. If you have to speak to someone not on the base or ship you will find some way to make them come to you. You will not do anything remotely strenuous until the doctor approves it and you will check in with the doctor regularly. All of this will be in your orders, mind you."

Mac nodded briefly, "Yes, sir."

"Colonel, this is all contingent on whether the doctor at Bethesda will clear you for limited duty. If they won't, you'll stay put, am I clear?"

Mac smiled slightly, "With all due respect, sir, if they don't clear me I'll be resigning."

Cresswell frowned, not at all happy with her answer. "You're dismissed, Colonel, report to Andrews at 1000 tomorrow," he growled.

Mac rose to her feet as quickly as possible, coming to attention, her gaze focusing on the wall, "Aye, aye, sir." Dropping the photos and envelope back on his desk she turned and headed for the door.

Cresswell's voice stopped her in the action of turning the knob, "Mac?" She glanced back at him curiously. He smiled wryly at her, "Bring him home safely, Colonel."

She nodded sharply, "I will, sir." Turning she exited the office, the door shutting quietly behind her. General Cresswell leaned back in his chair, smiling after her in amusement. He hadn't realized just how stubborn she could be, but he approved even if it was an exasperating trait. Shaking off his reverie he reached for the phone, he needed to start placing some overseas calls.