"Settling the Score" 2?

By Rita Widmer

Disclaimer: Same as always I don't own JAG or some of the views that may be given in this story. Reality sucks sometimes, and I'm not going to paint a perfect world here.

Rating: PG-13

AN: Thank you to all who have reviewed! It means a lot to me. I'm sorry about not getting this part out sooner, but a 5 day vacation, work, and no electricity for 2 days will do it to you.

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"Adalia, you have to report this to the police. This is not any idol threat," Mac pleaded with her friend.

"Mac, the police around here think we are the terrorists. They'll pretend to care, but they won't do anything."

"Then you need to shut this place down for awhile until we can find out who's behind it."

"That could be forever."

"I still think you should call the police. I wish somehow I could get the military involved in this, but we have no jurisdiction." Mac watched her friend's eyes as they stared back with stubbornness.

"Do you ever wonder what people think when they see the color of your skin? In the military, no one can say anything to you, but you never know what they think of you inside. We get kids that come here every day just for a reprieve from the looks and sometimes threats they get at school."

Mac ducked her head down, remembering a certain example of the hatred she had felt coming from a fellow officer. He had looked at her with such hatred that she had wanted to attack him, but he was a Marine General and he could get away with the sneering looks. You had to prove to him that you were not a terrorist not the other way around. Sadly he still was running things over in Iraq, and though she had no proof, his beliefs about Islamic people were part of the reason for the torture of prisoners.

"I hate to admit it when you're right, but still not everyone thinks that way. For every person that thinks that way there are half dozen that don't. Now I have a young lady I promised to talk to about the military. I'll be back tomorrow morning to help set up the memorial. Can I have all your notes that you received so I can try to get a better idea about the person behind this?"

Adalia handed over the papers she had locked away, and before Mac walked out, she said, "Thanks Mac for all and any help you give."

Mac smiled at her before walking out of the small office.

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Mac's Apartment

That Evening

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For what seemed like the thousandth time, Mac went over all the threats. Obviously this person had great hatred for the people that came to the community center, but this person also seemed to know a lot about the inside and the running of the center.

Checking her internal clock, she knew it was time for bed. Her mind still racing she changed and got in. She thought about calling Harm, but it was late she decided and it could wait until Monday.

Her restless mind wouldn't let her fall asleep right away, but soon tiredness came over her. An hour later, she woke with a scream. Her pajamas were soaked with sweat, and her heart raced. It seemed so real.

Now tomorrow brought fear to her soul. Tomorrow would bring the same kind of horror that 9/11 did 4 years ago.

Without thinking she got up, and changed her clothes. She headed out to the nearest park and ran. All she knew was she had to stop tomorrow from happening, but how was the question.

She had run so long and hard that she finally had to come to a stop. It was then she realized she had cried silent tears. She may never practice the customs of her heritage, but they were still a part of her. In her soul, she could feel her grandmother crying with her. Terrorists were not the Muslims her grandmother had taught her about as a small child.

Mac looked at up at the sky, and yelled, "This is not right!" to whichever god was up there. More softly, she added, "Help me save them." Wiping away the tears from her face, she headed back to her apartment for a sleepless night.

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Sept. 11th

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Mac got dressed in her uniform, and prepared her makeup to hide the restless night she had. Today was a day of remembrance, and she wondered how many more would need to be remembered after today.

'And will they?' A little voice in her head asked.

"I will make sure of it," Mac said to her empty apartment, "but no one will die if I have any in it."

She grabbed her purse, and headed out. The drive was slow with it being a Sunday, and the ceremonies going on around the city. She knew a small group was gathering at JAG that morning also. The original plans to join them had been quickly tossed when she had received the phone call from Adalia.

This time she was greeted by Adalia at the door.

"Something's going to go wrong today. I know it. I asked some friends to keep watch over the place during and after the ceremony. Hopefully no one will get by them."

Mac had no arguments to give, but tried reassuring her friend by grabbing hold of it for a moment. They soon were putting the last touches together for the ceremony, and the people were gathering.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly, and she saluted the American flag that was at half mast today. They hadn't read all the names off like the other ceremonies, but remembered those Muslims that gave their lives because of their own people.

After the ceremony ended, she made her excuses to wonder around. As time went on the fear grew inside her that the day was far from over, and she had to be on alert.

She slowly walked around the building noticing men staggered around keeping a watch out.

It was as she was coming around towards the front, she knew that it had already begun. The first casualty of the day lay before her. Feeling the gun she had hidden away expertly from her stints with the CIA. Making the last turn to the front, she slowly looked into the nearest window to see if anything had started inside. Seeing nothing, she moved to hide so she could go unnoticed until she knew who was in there, and what the plan was, and find one of her own.

The buzzing from her cell phone took her away from her thoughts, and she looked at the caller id. Answering it, their was only one word on the other end, "Help!" before the line went dead.