Chapter 14 (16 February 2015)
SEE PROLOGUE FOR DISCLAIMERS, ETC.
Vice President AJ Chegwidden stared at the Director of the CIA. It was a familiar sensation, as was the desire to break the man's nose with a well-placed right hook. Of course, he'd already done that once, nearly 20 years ago now, when then Special Agent Clayton Webb had placed two of JAG's most valuable officers in mortal danger under the guise of allowing Harmon Rabb, Jr., to find out what happened to his father.
"Mr. Vice President, sir, you and I both know that General Mackenzie Rabb is the best qualified person to prosecute this case." Clayton Webb shifted in his chair. "She can read the original documents, not just the translations provided to us. She can question witnesses in their own languages, or at least understand their answers without the translations if the court requires her to examine them in English. She didn't buy the duplicate count theory to start with."
"I know." Her recalcitrance at signing off on that investigative report had led the Office of Naval Intelligence to renege on an offer to make her the CO of Naval Intelligence – Europe so that Harm could stay in the Navy, too. AJ wondered how the world might have been different with Mac working in the intelligence world, so talented was she at finding connections others missed.
Just yesterday, she had been in his office here in the OEOB, thundering away at the stupidity of the chain of command 10 years ago in white washing the disappearance of 50 kilograms of VX nerve gas from the Deseret Chemical Depot and at whichever incompetent nincompoops in her own office or at the CIA or both had given documents and spoken out of turn to reporters at The New York Times and Newsweek. "Another week, AJ, and we would have gone public with charges for seven American military officers and a petition to the ICJ to bring charges against two dozen foreign nationals. Now, I have to re-vet everything before I can go forward. Five fricking years down the drain." AJ had kept his smile to himself; Mac never remembered to call him "Mr. Vice President" in private, but she certainly wouldn't cross the vulgarity line.
"Will you talk to her? Get her to transfer jurisdiction to federal court and step down to take the case as a special prosecutor?"
"You seem to think I have extraordinary powers, Director Webb. I'm just the Vice President. I'll have to get permission from the President and the Attorney General and the Secretary of Defense and the Chairman and the CNO before I can even speak to her officially." It was a stall; AJ hoped Webb didn't know just how much unprecedented authority he actually possessed in this intensely security conscious administration.
"Then do it, sir. Mac is the only one who can stop them by exposing them to the light." Webb sighed. "And she's the only one who can convince Harm to be on the prosecution team. We need him, too, sir."
Harm had twice served as a special prosecutor in the years since his retirement, once investigating improprieties in the DOD Office of Special Research and Development and once tracing the source of a major intelligence leak within the Department of Homeland Security. His reputation as a fair and honest investigator almost matched his reputation as an unorthodox yet hugely successful private defense attorney specializing in battered woman's syndrome cases.
"You're right about that, too."
"So you'll talk to them?"
"I'll talk my way along the chain. I can't promise anything beyond that."
Webb scowled, but nodded anyway. "I guess that's the best I can hope for, then. Will you be at the briefing tomorrow morning?"
"Teleconference. I've got several appearances in California later today and tomorrow." He always sat in on the president's National Intelligence briefings these days, however the technology made it possible. Too much had happened for him not to.
Webb left, closing the door behind him with a nearly inaudible click. AJ punched his intercom button. "Tiner, get me General Mackenzie Rabb, please."
"Aye, sir."
AJ smiled. One perk he really enjoyed about being the Vice President was handpicking his personal staff. It wasn't a hard sell for Commander Jason Tiner to become his chief of staff, particularly when the younger man realized he could remain eligible for retirement benefits by transferring to the active reserves.
A few moments later, Tiner's voice interrupted the thick silence of his thoughts. "Line one, Mr. Vice President."
"Thank you." AJ picked up the receiver and punched the appropriate button on his phone. "Thanks for taking my call, General."
Mac's silvery laugh floated across the wires. "Like I would ever not take your call, sir. What can I do for you – I'm assuming it's business rather than personal."
"Alas, yes. Mac, if you could prosecute the 2005 UN bombing cases yourself, both here in the States in federal court and at the ICJ, would you?"
"That depends, sir. What's available for me in the Marines after I leave JAG to do so?"
AJ smiled. "What do you want?"
"Chief of Naval Intelligence."
He knew why. Housecleaning would be first on her list. "I might be able to pull that off, but I'll have to have your indictment as leverage."
He heard a pen scratching on paper and imagined her sitting at his old desk in the beautiful office in Falls Church. "Done, but your eyes and Tiner's only until you clear any name through me, sir."
"Absolutely." She invited him to six-year old Angelica's ballet recital and Frankie's space-themed eighth birthday party before another call came in for him. He would rather have talked more about the miracle children he considered his granddaughter and grandson than the tedious business of education reform speeches, but duty often outweighed family these days.