A Ghost Story
Chapter 3
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters. All rights to the story and the movie 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' are owned by Twentieth Century Fox Incorporated. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.
Spoilers: Any JAG episode through Season 10. We will focus primarily on the episode 'Ghost Ship' in this particular chapter. The sequence of events and dialogue are not exactly as portrayed in the episode.
A/N: We are taking a turn from 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' at this point(while keeping the basic premise in place) and going into our more 'ghostly' JAG episodes to further cement Harm and Mac's 'unique' relationship in this story.
0930
Tuesday
September 23, 1997
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
Major Sarah Mackenzie and Lieutenant Bud Roberts left the Admirals office nearly skipping with happiness. They were headed to Alameda Naval Air Station to investigate the discovery of the remains of a lieutenant found in the void of the ship. Inspectors who were checking the ship for corrosion had discovered it by accident, or so they said.
She was ready to get out of Washington D.C. for awhile and back to all the things there were to see and do around Alameda. Bud had been following her into her office when Mac stopped short at the sight of Harm standing near the window behind her desk. She startled Bud who was following her too closely and ran into her.
"Oh… I'm sorry ma'am" Bud stepped back straightening his uniform self consciously. He could not see Harm, only Mac seemed to have that ability.
"Not a problem lieutenant, get your gear together and I'll meet you at Dulles at 1400. You're dismissed." She made a special effort to focus on Bud and not to look in Harm's direction.
"Yes ma'am" The excitement had returned to his voice, he couldn't wait to get out of headquarters and out to California. He came to attention and turned and left her office.
Mac had followed him as he left, closing the door and her blinds. She turned to look at the place where Harm had been standing. He was no longer there.
"Okay…are you still here?" She said aloud to, what appeared to be, no one in the room.
Harm was now standing behind her. "Yes, I am."
Mac drew in a breath sharply. "I wish you wouldn't do that."
"Sorry," he said with a sly grin and then quickly returned to the serious expression he held as she had entered the room.
"What are you doing here?"
She had never seen him in the office before. He had always been in the apartment. In the months since their 'agreement' she had seldom seen any sign of him. Harm made himself known from time to time, he even laughed out loud at her at times, when she appeared to be startled by his slammed door or flicker of lights. He kept his promise to coexist with her peacefully; he just felt the need to remind her from time to time that he was still there and that this was his apartment too.
"I've been 'getting out' more lately. As a matter of fact I heard your briefing with the Admiral. You're going to the USS Hornet to investigate a body found in the ships void."
"Yes…why are you so interested?"
"My father was on that ship; as a matter of fact I was on that ship during a Tiger Cruise, when I was about 4 years old."
Mac listened and as she did she was amazed at how totally normal he looked to her. He was dressed in the khakis that he wore in his portrait; he wore no cover this time. Harm looked real enough to touch. His appearance the first time she saw him, though strikingly handsome, was a bit frightening, but here; he looked as though he were just another of her coworkers here at JAG.
"Mac, I have some letter tapes in the apartment that may help with your investigation, if you're interested you can listen to them. My father sent them while he was stationed aboard the Hornet. She was still in commission during the time when Saigon fell; maybe there is something that someone may have left behind that may tell me about what may have happened to my father. The day Saigon fell, refugees fled to the ships in anything that would fly or float."
"You think he may still be alive, don't you?" Mac folded her arms across her chest, still giving him an assessing look.
"I know the chances are a million to one, but yes, I do."
"Someone always had to win the lottery, right?" She smiled at him.
"Yeah, something like that." His expression turned warm and admiring. "Thanks Mac."
She seemed willing to help him without question. His father's MIA status haunted him in life and in death.
"If you don't mind my asking, why you can't communicate with him now…since you're…I mean, you know since you're…"
"Dead." Harm folded his arms across his chest.
Mac looked away self consciously, "Yes"
"I don't know, I don't seem to be able to go far from my apartment or here at JAG."
He didn't understand it either; it seemed he wasn't able to be anywhere that she hadn't been, though he wasn't going to tell her that. For whatever reason: Mac was his touchstone, his link between this world and the next.
"You've been here at JAG often?"
"Often enough" He smiled at her smugly. "I have to be sure you're not having the walls in my old office painted 'pale yellow' too."
She returned his smile and turned toward her desk for a moment to begin clearing it and gathering what she would need to take with her to Alameda. When she looked back to where he had been standing, he was gone.
She really hated it when he did that. He disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
"But where will I find the letter tapes?" She shook her head, if he wasn't going to tell her she wasn't going to worry about it.
"Just go home Mac…You'll see them."
She sighed…this was insane…but she would do it. Maybe it would help her with the case, the faster she finished, the faster she got to her San Francisco steak.
1635
TWA flight 337
Somewhere over the Midwest
Mac sat back in her seat listening to the letter tapes on her Walkman. They were found conveniently centered on the counter in the kitchen in her apartment, just as Harm had promised. The box also held what appeared to be other keepsakes that Harm had hidden away for safe keeping.
She listened as the calm and reassuring voice of Harmon Rabb Sr. spoke to his wife Trish. "Give little Harm a hug and a kiss for me and stay strong honey, I'll be home before you know it."
Sarah Mackenzie had never witnessed a loving exchange like that between her parents, Harmon Rabb Jr. had been fortunate in his childhood to have had parents like that. It must have seemed so safe and secure…so normal.
1900(Pacific Standard Time)
Alameda Naval Air Station
Aboard the USS Hornet
Mac walked across the hangar deck of the old ship feeling a strong urge to whistle in the dark. She held her flashlight and walked quickly across, cursing herself for not asking Bud to come along. He was on the pier using his laptop to do some research for her about the ships history. Ensign Harriet Sims, who had just come aboard at JAG, was on loan from the IG's office and was assisting him from the US Naval Historical Center in Washington.
She was being observed by more than one pair of eyes as she looked for the bulkhead number 2D42Z8V, the void where the body was found. A KGB agent on a mission of vital importance to his country and two others were observing. The two observers were spirits drawn to this place, each unaware of the other, but drawn for the same reason. A truth long hidden from the light of day.
For reasons Harm did not understand, he was there with Mac, watching her as she stepped through the passageways. He had never been farther away from his apartment than JAG since his death. Harm supposed that because this case dealt with a subject so close to him, he had to be where she was performing her investigation. He could hear her thoughts as she refused to give in to the fear she felt as she explored deeper and deeper into the ship. He smiled as she did in fact begin to 'give a little whistle' as she neared the void she had been searching for.
As Mac found the opening and started to step into the opening cut by the 'inspectors' she saw Harm standing to her left, beside her.
"Oh...damn it Harm! I hate it when you do that!" She felt the shock all the way to her feet. She had nearly dropped her flashlight.
Harm was almost sorry when she looked up at him, her face paled from fear. "Sorry Mackenzie…I'll give you a better warning next time." He gave her his most charming smile.
"I thought you hadn't been anywhere but the apartment or JAG"
"That was true…until now."
He knew there had to be a reason he was able to be here; maybe he would learn something that would give him the answers about his father that he had been searching for since he was 6 years old. Maybe he would finally find some peace about his loss and be able to let go of this life and go on to the next.
"Nice way to let me know." Mac was beginning to regain her composure.
Just then what sounded like a tearing mournful wail seemed to blow down the passageway of the ship.
Mac's eyes grew larger. "What was that?'
"It's just the ship cooling as the sun is setting. The metal expands and contracts, you don't hear it on a working ship but in the quiet here in the shipyard, there's nothing to mask the sound."
Mac nodded and just as she began to relax she heard the pounding of footsteps somewhere close to them in the void. That sound was definitely not metal expanding and contracting.
"Kill that light." Harm said urgently.
"No." She whispered matching his urgency and clutching it more closely to her. There was no way she was putting the light out now.
Mac felt herself being pushed back against the bulkhead and her flashlight suddenly went out. What must have been Harm's body pushed against her, he was solid as a rock and very, very cool. She had pushed her arm back against him instinctively and she could feel no heart beat. Her own heartbeat accelerated as the footsteps neared the place where she stood.
A flashlight was shone in her face. "What are you doing down here alone…Major"
The man with the flashlight had recognized her insignia, she assumed. "Who the hell are you?" She said in her toughest Marine bark.
"Lieutenant Mark Falcon, Alameda Police."
"I was told that the Alameda Police were turning over jurisdiction to the Navy since this happened while the Hornet was still commissioned."
"It was turned over to the Navy; I just wanted to follow up in my spare time. Do a little investigating on my own." The lieutenant seemed charming and Mac was so glad to see a friendly face in the god forsaken hull of a ship that she almost hugged him.
As she began to introduce herself to the police officer Harm had backed away, allowing Mac to return to a somewhat normal posture. She had forgotten he was there and began to talk with the lieutenant, filling him in on all they had been able to discover since she and Bud had begun their investigation.
As Harm watched them walk back across the hangar deck he felt as though something were pulling him back toward the void. There was more to know here, something in that void or on this ship.
"How about dinner?" Mark looked at her hopefully. "It's got to be after 10 o'clock Washington time. You've got to be starved."
Mac was hungry and then she remembered Harm. Trying to look around discreetly, as if she were trying to decide, she saw him further back on the hangar deck. He waved her away as if telling her to go. He would stay here and follow up on the feeling he had about this ship.
"Sounds great." Mac followed the lieutenant as she glanced over her shoulder at Harm, who was again…nowhere to be seen.
"Do you mind if I bring my partner along?" Mac knew Bud had been working on the case non stop since they left Washington.
Falcon looked disappointed but agreed.
Later that evening…
2200
VOQ
Lieutenant Roberts's quarters
Bud sat with his lap top resting on his legs. He was saving all the information Ensign Sims had sent earlier in the day. They had learned a lot about the body found in the void, since their arrival earlier that day.
It was that of Lieutenant Brian Tate, he had been an aviator, stationed aboard the Hornet during the fall of Saigon. He was reported missing at sea on April 30 1975. The medical examiner had told him that the lieutenant had a Skoshi Tiger patch clutched in his hand. Apparently he had it clutched in his hand after the struggle that had killed him. They had learned that a South Vietnamese aviator and officer by the name of Colonel Nguyen, had been his bunkmate. The patch was that of his squadron.
The major suspected that Nguyen was involved in Lieutenant Tate's murder but could not pin point a motive as yet.
The phone rang startling him from his thoughts. It was Harriet calling from JAG.
"Bud?"
"Harriet? What are you doing at JAG this late?"
"I'm still following up on some of the information about the Hornet. I just had a visit from Clayton Webb."
"Why would Webb be visiting you?"
"Apparently he is following our investigation. He had some information that might answer a few of our questions."
She told him all that Webb had told her about SOG agents being aboard the Hornet around the time Lieutenant Tate was reported missing. The most compelling thing that Webb had said was that Colonel Nguyen had a list of American pilots that were transferred to Russian custody by the North Vietnamese during the Vietnam War. He also had warned her that the KGB was aware of this and were trying to get to the list before anyone else was able to discover it.
"I have to get in touch with the Major right away."
"Okay"
"Tell Mr. Webb that we appreciate his help."
"I will…but …"
"What Harriet?"
"I don't know, there is just something about Mr. Webb…he just seems…creepy"
"Maybe it's because he's a spook." Bud chided her and ended his call so that he could inform the Major.
2346
USS Hornet
Alameda Naval Air Station
Harm had no sense of time and space as he searched the inside of the ship. For all he knew Mac could have left ten minutes before now and it would have made no difference to him. He felt a presence of some type here, one very similar to his own. He hoped it was his father…he knew that whatever it was, it was at least connected to him somehow. Just as he returned to the hanger deck he saw the shadow of a man on the other side that seemed to be waiting for him.
"Dad?"
The figure was dressed in working khaki's, a flight jacket and a ball cap. It was hard to discern his features. Could it be his father? Harm called out again but the figure only turned and took a few steps, then looked at him again. Who ever it was wanted him to follow him, Harm knew.
As he followed him through the passageways, to the officers berthing, he stopped at #03l421P. This was not his father's quarters; he knew his last 4 digits were 226P. Why here? Harm followed the apparition into the room and he turned facing Harm.
It was not his father.
"Who are you?"
The figure faded into the bulkhead and disappeared. Harm knew it had to have been the man who had been found in the void.
Why had he wanted him to come here?
0600
Wednesday
Pier 7
Alameda Naval Air Station
Mac stood on the pier beside her Navy issue vehicle. Falcon was late…and she was chomping at the bit to get inside the ship. Mac believed that the list might be hidden in Lieutenant Tate's quarters.
She began to pace back and forth, her mind beginning to reel with the possibilities. It could blow the MIA issue wide open…possibly free men who had been stolen away from their families for decades. She remembered the good man whose voice she had heard on the tapes on the flight over here. Harm's father.
She had waited long enough; she walked to the brow of the ship and began to climb.
At that same moment, Lieutenant Falcon's vehicle pulled up beside hers.
"Hey wait!" He called as he opened the door and stood on the pier.
"Come on!" Mac's patience was at an end.
Mac felt as though her legs were moving of their own volition. She couldn't get to Lieutenant Tate's quarters fast enough. She was nearly sprinting across the hangar deck when Falcon called to her again.
"Sarah!...wait!"
Mac did not answer…she had begun to hear Harm calling her and she was focused on the sound of his voice, honing in on it, as though it were magnetically pulling her toward it. She arrived at Tate's quarters and stood just outside the hatch. She looked inside and saw Harm standing there looking at her, his eyes boring into hers as intensely as ever, his chest heaving as though he had been running.
"It's here Mac." He pointed to vent beside the bottom bunk. "I can't get to it but I know its there…the list. Get it Mac, please!"
"Okay, let me find something to open the vent with." She took a key from her pocket and used the flattened end to turn the screw securing the cover. She reached inside and removed a small book, with a hardback cover, and she opened it.
"It's written in Vietnamese, Harm"
She turned the page and then saw the names of Americans, with their rank and branch of service plainly written.
"Oh my God…they really took them." She paused as she read down the list. "Harm, its here, your father's name is on the list, Harmon Rabb Sr."
She looked up and Harm was looking at her with eyes bright with pain. "I knew it Mac. I knew he hadn't died. Maybe that's why I can't find him. Maybe he's still out there...alive."
"We'll find him Harm" She suddenly wished she could touch him now, just to reassure him somehow.
The voice of Mark Falcon broke the spell that seemed to have fallen over the room with this revelation
"Who are you talking to Sarah?"
Mac chose to ignore the question. "I found it, Mark."
"What did you find?"
"If you had gotten here sooner you would know. I have here a list of American POW"s that were taken to Russia during the Vietnam War. Some of them could still be alive. Don't you see, that's why Lieutenant Tate was killed"
"Amazing" Falcon seemed to be only mildly surprised.
Just then an explosion rocked the ship, causing Mac to drop the book.
"Let's get out of here!" Mark grabbed Mac by her arms and started to drag her out of the room.
"The book!" Harm was practically wailing but only Mac heard.
"I have to get the book!"
"I'll get it" Falcon hurried back and slipped the book into his pocket.
They made it to the hangar deck as two hatches blew open rocking the ship again, sending flame and intense heat into the air. Mac fell against a bulkhead hitting her head hard and it nearly knocked her unconscious. As she tried to clear her head, she saw Harm and someone else she didn't recognize pointing the way out. Mark helped her up and began to pull her in the opposite direction.
"No!" She was yelling at the top of her voice because of the roaring sound of the fire aboard the ship that was nearly disintegrating under their feet. "This way!" She tugged him in the direction in which Harm was guiding her.
Mark followed her and in moments they had followed their guides all the way out into the daylight and rescue.
Paramedics rushed to Lieutenant Falcon and Mac but Falcon waved them away from him, insisting that they treat Mac. He assured them he was fine.
"The book…where is the book?" Mac could not lose what was so precious to Harm and now to her.
"I have it Major. I'll be sure it is locked away in the evidence room at the Alameda Police Headquarters. Just pick it up there after they are finished with you here. You've got a nasty gash there Major, you may need stitches."
24 hours later
1830
TWA Flight 229
Approaching Washington D.C.
Mac sat with her head back on the seat, her heart heavy and ridden with guilt. She had failed her friend, and a man who might at this moment be starring at prison walls in the far reaches of Russia, beyond hope. She could still hear his voice when he spoke to Trish, Harm's mother. 'I'll be home before you know it' and 'Thank God I fly high…so there's nothing to worry about.'
Yes, there was something to worry about. She had been a fool, the KGB agent who had been trying to get his hands on the book had been Mark Falcon. She had practically handed it to him.
She closed her eyes and looked out of the window and said aloud. "I'm so sorry Harm."
Bud sat next to her on the aisle. He had turned toward her when she spoke. "Ma'am?"
Mac startled at the sound of his voice. "Oh, I'm sorry lieutenant, I was thinking out loud."
"At least we solved the case ma'am. We know now how Lieutenant Tate ended up in the void."
They had been able to accomplish that, the lieutenant had, in fact, been killed by Colonel Nguyen. He was killed because he knew about the list. Colonel Nguyen hadn't escaped either; he had been killed when the plane on which he was traveling was sabotaged on the way to Guam by a SOG double agent trying to silence him. The double agent had succeeded until now, but with the evidence stolen away practically before they had their hands on it, there was no victory in the knowledge of what they had discovered.
2242
Friday
Mac's apartment
North of Union Station
Mac sat on the side of her bed. She was physically and emotionally exhausted, yet her mind was still reeling with the events of the last few days. She glanced up at the man in the portrait. She didn't speak but shook her head. The sense of failure still so heavy upon her she could barely stand it.
Why did she care, why was this man, who longer existed in this world, so much on her mind and heart? Something happened to her when she looked into his eyes aboard the Hornet. So many emotions in them and he had trusted her, she could see and sense that.
She had showered and gotten ready for bed and as began to slip under the covers she whispered. "I'm sorry Harm."
She pulled the comforter up and resting her arms above it, looked up at the ceiling, willing herself to fall asleep.
Harm had been watching her in silence since she had come home. Her sorrow had almost matched his own and his connection to her deepened. It seemed his concerns were hers now. He hovered near her bed watching her troubled sleep. What happened hadn't been her fault. He closed his eyes and as he focused more intently on her he seemed to be pulled into her dreams. In her dream, Mac opened her eyes and started to speak but Harm silenced her with a look.
"Don't blame yourself Mac."
"But it was my fault."
"It wasn't."
He reached out to touch her arms and found that he could feel her under his hands. He caressed her cheek and she caught his hand at the wrist. He felt her human touch…warm on his skin.
"I'll find the list somehow, I'll find Falcon. Maybe that's why I can't leave Mac. There has to be a reason I'm still here." He smiled at her. "Rest Mac, there will be another chance."
With that Harm slipped out of her dream and was standing at her bedside.
Mac heaved a sigh and slipped further into her sleep, the heaviness in her heart lifted.
Harm continued to study her as she slept, it seemed the longer he was with her the less she reminded him of Diane. The senselessness of her murder would not let him rest, but something about Mac gave him an anchor, strength, even in his present state.
It seemed to him that he existed somewhere between life and death, for reasons he didn't yet understand. What was happening now was a ghost story of sorts, one he never would have believed in his lifetime.
Chapter 4
Spoilers: Any JAG episode up to and including Season 10 is fair game. We will, however, be focusing primarily on the episode, 'Death Watch,' with some references to events in 'Impact' and 'The Stalker.'(Season 3)
A/N: Many thanks to Aerogirl and Tracy for beta reading on this holiday weekend.
2100
Thursday
March 31, 1998
Mac's apartment
North of Union Station
Mac sat on one of the bar stools in the kitchen, a box sitting on the counter in front of her. It was the one Harm had told her held the letter tapes from his father. When she had returned from California she had packed the tapes away, putting them in her bedroom closet, seldom thinking about them until recently. She decided that tonight she would make a mug of tea, settle in and try to unravel the mystery that was Harmon Rabb Jr. It was a perfect setting, with a storm brewing outside, much the same as the one that seemed to bring Harm to her nearly a year ago.
Her personal life had taken what seemed to be a wild turn in the last few months and she had begun to think about her resident 'ghost' more and more. She had seen the stack of letters when she had returned the tapes to the box. She saw Harm's handwriting on the letters addressed to Diane Schonke. Her curiosity was up, and if she were honest she would have admitted to wanting to know more about the person Harm had been when he was alive.
His presence had been so comforting through the whole ordeal with Dalton and even with the stalker who had tried to force his way into her life. She had not seen Harm anywhere but her dreams in a long while, but he had been with her during that time just the same. When Dalton was murdered and she sat being interviewed by Coster, it was as though Harm had laid his hand on her shoulder. She nearly reached for it once. In her emotional state, Coster had tried to bully her and she could almost hear Harm telling her not to allow it. She hadn't.
Coster tried to do more than bully her, but with help from her CO and a tracking device from a client she had in a case she was handling, Coster wouldn't be hurting anyone ever again.
She had almost lost her way in her sobriety, but Harm had been with her then as well, if only in spirit. She came back to the apartment drunk and nearly out of her mind with guilt and grief over Dalton's murder. She had thrown a pillow at his portrait and knocked it off of the wall, screaming things at him that made no sense at all once she was sober again. She had made a small scratch in the corner of the portrait. She had passed out and thrown herself across the bed. It was his voice that woke her, telling her not to give up, and chided her about hiding in the apartment after she had made one mistake in 10 years of sobriety. He had been there, if only in her dreams. That was fine with her; maybe that was all she could handle right now.
She looked at the portrait now, the scratch barely visible, hoping Mrs. Burnett would never come and get it. She had grown attached to it. Mac hadn't heard from anyone regarding what to do with his personal effects. She felt the need to hold on to these few things of his for some reason. Thinking about Harm was safe, since he wasn't real, at least not in the sense that he could hurt her or she could hurt him. She just knew that because of him, she wasn't alone…in anything that mattered.
She reached into the box and took out the stack of letters, looking around the room as though making sure Harm wasn't standing there watching her. He was nowhere to be seen. She untied the ribbon and opened the first letter. It was short, just a few paragraphs, and to Mac's mind could have been sent to his grandmother.
"Oh, you're a real romantic, Harm," Mac said laughingly.
He had signed it 'love, Harm,' but there wasn't any of what she had seen on his face in the picture she had seen of Harm and Diane. Nothing that would explain the anger he seemed to feel when she asked about his reaction to her death.
She continued to read the remaining letters unaware that she was indeed being watched by the author of those 'romantic' letters.
Harm observed Mac, sipping her tea, smiling from time to time as she read. Somehow he didn't mind that she read them. He had begun to feel more and more comfortable with her. Harm had not allowed himself to be seen anywhere but her dreams in some time. Mac was trying to get a real life and from what he understood about her so far, she deserved one.
Dalton's murder had been a tragedy, but Harm had to admit he had not liked him from the beginning. There was something about the guy that Harm could not pinpoint that made him believe Lowne was not the man for Mac. When he saw Dalton copy notes from a file for a case in which Mac was opposing him, Harm knew then he was right. Dalton had been a liar who would do anything to win, even if it meant using Mac.
Mac was chuckling to herself then she spoke, "Oh, come on, Harm…just say it. You're in love with her. Just say it! Why are men so…stupid?"
Harm focused on Mac again and spoke aloud. "We're not all stupid, Mac."
Mac was so startled she nearly jumped off of the barstool. She was not only frightened for moment by the sound, but also felt terribly guilty for getting into his private letters to Diane.
"Oh...I'm sorry…I guess I'm being nosey."
Harm came into view, sitting on a barstool next to her, smiling charmingly. Picking up right away on her guilty look, he asked her.
"What are you up to, Mackenzie?"
Mac decided the truth was always the best answer…besides, she never really knew when he was watching.
"My curiosity got the best of me." She began to feel a blush creep up her neck.
He folded his arms and looked at her; he waited a few moments, just long enough to make her wonder what he was going to say.
"It's not a problem, Mac."
Mac let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Then she decided she would 'devil' him a bit. "Stop sneaking up on me. You have an unfair advantage."
She leaned forward and rested her arms on the counter, knocking the stack of letters to the side. The envelope on the bottom was a plain, without an address. Mac pulled it out of the stack. She waved it back and forth in front of her.
"Maybe this is one I shouldn't read." She gave him a sly grin.
Harm thought he knew about every letter in the stack. He frowned as he looked at it.
"What…you don't recognize this?" Mac raised her brows in curiosity.
"No, I don't." He had never been able to go through the old letters. The memory was too painful for him. All the possibilities ended before they had begun.
"Do you mind if I open it?" She couldn't keep from smiling mischievously.
"Go ahead."
Mac opened the letter. It was a draft of a letter written to Lieutenant Schonke's commanding officer, Commander Holbarth. She was being harassed, and he had refused to address the problem. She warned him that she would seek redress through other channels.
Mac read the last few sentences aloud. 'I do this not for myself, for this cruise is nearly over, but those female officers that will serve under you command in the future.'
She looked up and Harm was no longer sitting beside her. The room had gone completely cold. She shivered suddenly, her breaths plain to see as they increased. An intense anger gripped her and a sense of urgency that seemed to come out of nowhere.
"Harm?"
Only the storm outside could be heard. Mac's voice echoed in the room.
"You hadn't seen this before?" Mac said to no one she could see in the room. She walked around the room. "Harm, where are you?" Damn it, she hated it when he did this.
She turned and read the letter again, trying to see what had caused Harm to leave – and then she knew. Harm believed Diane's murderer was Holbarth.
"Harm…don't leave…talk to me." There was still so much she didn't know and now he had left her with this feeling of anger and helplessness. Mac did not like this; she had to find out why he was so angry and what had happened to Diane. She called out to him again.
There was still no answer. She turned toward the kitchen counter and stacked the other letters and tied them again with the ribbon. She began to think about what Bud had said to her when she first came to JAG. Mac remembered that he had worked with the lieutenant. Bud had to have known something about this case and might know who had been harassing Diane.
She picked up the handset on her phone and called Bud and told him to meet her at Headquarters. She instructed him to pull the service records of the presumed murderer, Lieutenant Lamb, Commander Holbarth and of Lieutenant Schonke. Mac also wanted the case file of the investigation of Diane's murder. If what Harm believed was true, Holbarth had gotten away with murder and he could still commanding a ship in the United States Navy.
Mac heard thunder booming from the storm and saw lightning streaking across the sky. She walked to the window and looked down to the place where her car was parked. She saw Harm standing there, his face an otherworldly white, his eyes piercingly blue, as he looked up at her. She ran to the elevator with her keys and purse in hand. When she ran out of the door of the building, the rain drenched her clothing as she searched for Harm. Again, he was nowhere to be found. She got into her vehicle and turned it toward JAG Headquarters. Between Diane's letter, which she had placed in her purse, and whatever she and Bud would be able to find, they would know for sure who had killed Diane Schonke.
2300
Highway 64 south
40 miles north of Norfolk, Virginia
Mac sped toward Norfolk and out of the storm that still seemed to be pounding Washington. Bud had offered her a change of clothing in the form of Harriet's uniform, and Mac had reluctantly taken it. The rain had chilled her to the bone and she had to get to Norfolk or she would lose the opportunity to confront Commander Holbarth. Bud had been able to find out when Holbarth would be leaving the ship. He would be coming off the watch at 2400. Holbarth was stationed aboard the USS Shepherd, a DDG that had pulled into port earlier that day.
She could not understand the urgency she felt…the need to get there as quickly as she could. Her body was nearly trembling with energy, her teeth were chattering, but she did not feel chilled. Mac felt again as though her body was not her own. Harm was here, with her, at this moment it felt as though he were inside her very being. She was racing toward a confrontation and she had no earthly idea what exactly she was going to say or do.
The evidence she and Bud had uncovered was damning against Commander Holbarth. They were sure he was in fact the murderer, but they didn't have evidence that would stand up in court. The draft of the letter Diane had written had been the piece of the puzzle that had been missing for years. The problem was it would not be admissible in court. Holbarth had not come through the incident unscathed; he had lost a command after Commander Krennick's investigation of his failure to follow up on the lieutenant's reported sexual harassment claims.
As Mac drove, doubts and her own common sense began to battle with her resolve to face Diane's murderer. She would be confronting a superior officer, while she stood there in the wrong uniform, accusing him of something she might not be able to prove in court. What did she expect him to say? Surely he wouldn't just confess and turn himself over to the authorities. She could be standing before the admiral, in a hell of a lot of trouble, tomorrow morning.
"Harmon Rabb," she thought aloud, "you'd better be right about this."
His voice was an echo inside the vehicle. "I am, Mac…and you know it."
2400
Pier 7
D and S piers
Naval Station Norfolk
Mac sat in her vehicle, watching as the men and women who had just stood the watch filed down the ships brow. She got out of her vehicle and walked toward the USS Shepherd where it was docked at the pier. She had seen Holbarth's photograph in his service record but there was the heavy mist of fog around the pier. What if she didn't recognize him? She kept walking toward at man who looked as though he might be Commander Holbarth.
"It's him." Harm's voice was plain and clear but only to her.
She stopped about 10 yards in front of him and called out to him. "Commander Holbarth."
He looked up at her and as he walked toward her he recognized her as Lieutenant Diane Schonke. He stopped and raised his hands. "My God…Schonke."
He began to back away, staggering and falling as he went.
Mac stepped more quickly toward him, seeing that he was stepping back toward the edge of the pier. "Wait!"
"No! No! I didn't mean…I'm sorry…I'm sorry—"
After his last word he fell backward off of the pier into the water. He plunged into the water between the ship and the concrete of the pier, his cries for help covered by the murky sea water almost before he could make a sound. The officer of the deck aboard the Shepherd had seen him fall but he had not seen Mac.
She backed away and turned to walk toward her vehicle, listening as the word went out that there was a man overboard. Her body was still trembling with energy but she also felt a sense of relief. A murderer had met justice in a way no court could provide.
0515
April 1, 1998
Mac's apartment
North of Union Station
When Mac walked into her apartment, she had stripped out of her clothing and fallen into bed. She fell into a deep sleep almost immediately. As morning approached, she began to try to pull herself out of her slumber as she did every morning, her body clock always at work, telling her the time even when she was asleep. She seemed to slipping into a dream. She was back on the pier, but no one was there but her and Harm.
She looked up at him as he stared at her. His eyes were full of gratitude and something else, something deeper and truer than she had ever seen before.
Tonight she felt as though she were one with him. She had felt his rage after she had read Diane's letter and as she drove toward Washington. It had been a frightening and strangely exhilarating experience, she felt as though she were going to meet justice last night. A terrible wrong had been made right.
In her dream she spoke to him.
"I could feel how angry you were; I could barely contain it, Harm. I think that if you were still…"
"Alive, I could have killed him?" He finished her sentence.
"Yes…could you have?"
"I guess we'll never know."
He began to look at her as he had on the Hornet, his gaze piercing into her soul.
As if in slow motion, he leaned down to kiss her. His lips were warm and soft and his kiss was drawing her in. Mac turned her head slightly, deepening the kiss, taking them further away from reality than they already were. She came to herself after a long moment and pulled back to look at him. He was seeing Diane…wasn't he? Surely that sweet and tender kiss could not be for her. She could not help but think once again how wonderful it would be to be loved like that.
She turned to her side, still sleeping lightly and as she did she spoke aloud. "Harm?"
Harm was there, watching her in her now restless sleep. Justice had been done after all this time in Diane's murder. Mac had believed him, and spoke of Diane as though she had been a real person, not just a victim in a murder case. Mac had gone to the wall for him yet again and he could put this pain to rest. Wherever Diane was, he hoped she was at peace, but now the question was…why wasn't he?
Mac turned again to lie on her back, still talking to him softly as she slept. "I know…you were kissing her."
Harm came to her bedside hovering just above her. Why did she tug at his heart so much? Why was he never able to be very far from where she was? He studied her beautiful face and asked aloud.
"Was I?"
TBC