1413 ZULU
OVAL OFFICE
WASHINGTON, DC
Nate breezed passed the Presidential Secretary and to the door of the oval office and tapped on the door. "Go right in, Mr. Secretary." The Presidential Secretary motioned and Nate stepped through the door.
"Nathan, care to sit down and tell me what the hell you were thinking?" President Russell leapt out of his chair to face off against Nate's stature.
"I was thinking that Harmon Rabb was an American war hero who went on a diplomatic mission and got ambushed. I was subsequently thinking that Nicole DiPiccio was an Undersecretary of State who had faithfully served her country. Finally, the thought crossed my mind that it would be a real shot in the arm to this administration in particular and the war on terror as a whole to bring Ali Al-Bashram. Or was I wrong?" Nate inflated his chest and went toe to toe.
"You're one sly son of a bitch Democrat, you know that? You've got me by the short and curlies then once you know that you do, you pull in such a manner that I can't respond without looking like a ghoul. So, here's what's going to happen. To prevent you from growling and thrashing like a Democratic tiger, I'm going to let this one go because we all know that there isn't a damn thing I can do. So, you brought in a major international terrorist and saved the lives of two Americans, what do you want?" President Russell calmed down and sat in his chair.
"Nothing for myself. I did my job as a key American player in the war on terrorism. I want Navy Crosses for MacKenzie and Galindez, they selflessly sacrificed their lives and aided in the apprehension of a major terrorist, raiding a compound against numbers that were overwhelmingly against their favour and……" The President cut off Nate.
"I know, I read the briefing. Three Marines did exactly what they were trained to do but they did it without directives and with minimal CIA assistance not to mention the fact that they participated fully with the intelligence service of another nation and the only reason that you had State Department clearance to do so was that the Secretary of State was among the Marines on this little raid. Now you want me to reward two of these Marines with Navy Crosses?" The President was once again fighting a rising ire.
"Face it, Andrew, I went out there and did exactly what you couldn't order a squad of Marines to do. I shot and killed terrorists and I couldn't give a damn. This is plain and simple. When Al Qaeda knocked those buildings down last year, I was in the room with you. When you proclaimed a war on terrorism, I foolishly thought that our mission was to shoot and kill terrorists where and when we found them." Nate answered with ferociousness.
"You can't fight this war on your own." The President argued.
"We aren't fighting this war at all!" Nate shot back.
"You know why I chose you for this job? Besides being exceptionally qualified and the fact that you made my approval numbers jump up sixteen points in three days, this war means something to you. You're a Marine, you fought in Desert Storm, a war in this region means something to you and you're willing to do anything to make sure that the American people whom you see yourself as being responsible to, know that you're willing to make any and all sacrifices to win it for them. You are Mr. Smith. You aren't in this for the glory, your own agenda, your political ambitions or the money. You are by nature a political animal and as such you are the only person in my cabinet willing to attach real strength and realpolitik to the term 'superpower'." Andrew Russell ran a hand over his scalp. "You have the potential to be the best Secretary of State since Kissinger. You're strongly Pro-Israel, strongly Pro-Europe and highly sceptical of the effectiveness of United Nations peacekeeping."
"My fangs aren't that sharp." Nate protested weakly.
"Name your three favourite statesmen from history, Nathan." President Russell demanded.
"Winston Churchill, Otto von Bismarck and Dean Acheson." Nate answered.
"An Englishman, a German and an American; you don't find that a little telling?" The President paused and then continued speaking. "Just get down to the confirmation hearings today. I'll lean on the Joint Chiefs who will in turn lean on the citations committee knowing that it's direct pressure from the top, it should pass rather quickly."
"I guess that's agreeable, you'll see me in front of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee this afternoon with a blue tie on, my hair slicked back and a demeanour that should scare those Senators into confirming me for the purposes of this administration." Nate shook hands with President Russell before heading out the door toward his office.
2202 LOCAL
USS JOHN .F. KENNEDY
SOMEWHERE IN THE PACIFIC
"You call the Admiral and get the next few days off?" Harm asked from a comfortable position in his bed in the medical centre of the carrier.
"I'm not on leave, I'm assigned temporarily as the supervisory JAG for the carrier group. The Admiral stills cares about you as one of his nearest and dearest friends and he wants to see you get better. It doesn't hurt that he's getting pressure from the incoming Secretary of State." Mac smiled lightly. "He's getting married."
"Nate?" Harm questioned sounding surprised.
"No, the Admiral; he proposed to Beverly Ross when all of us went running off after you into the Indonesian rainforest." Mac paused for a moment of quiet introspection. "So, the Admiral's getting married and Harriet found her house. Seems like everyone's retreating into suburbia."
"Feeling like the pieces of your life are being jumbled up again, Mac?" Harm asked weakly from the bed.
"Sometimes, none of it makes sense. I thought that by this point in my life I'd have it all figured out; my career, my personal life but none of it's falling into place. I have a stable career, sure but I have a fifty-fifty chance of being transferred out of DC after my next promotion. The only thing stable in my personal life is you. I have no husband, no kids, no real family structure; Chloe is further away and Uncle Matt is still in prison for three more years." Mac explained with a tad of melodrama.
"Come on, Mac, it's not all that bad. Like you said, you've got me." Harm offered with a sentimental sincerity. "I've got you, we can take on the world just like we always do; together."
"We have done that a lot haven't we?" Mac sat down on the edge of his bed.
"Am I interrupting a Hallmark moment?" A familiar voice came from the hatch.
"Keeter! What are you doing on this boat?" Harm's eyes lit up when he saw his old friend
"I heard you got your Eagles too. They gave me mine and gave me the CAG billet on this boat. I tell ya, boy, it's not like the good old days at the Yard where we used to get used to falling asleep drunk because we thought that the alcohol would make us stay awake long enough to get any decent amount of studying in. I heard you were on board and I figured I should stop by." Keeter worked his way over to the side of Harm's bed.
"Well, we were just talking about lives in flux, what about you? Any great descriptions of your own personal turmoil?" Harm chuckled lightly.
"Probably just the same stuff you guys have been saying. Good career courtesy of the United States Department of the Navy but even that's got to cap out some time. If I ever go anywhere from a CAG billet, it's to a desk at the Pentagon. No personal life to speak of, you know, the same career sailor spiel that most men in the Navy have been using since John Paul Jones." Keeter yawned and threw himself into a chair.
"You guys are making me feel depressed and guilty." Harm jibed.
"You just think that you've got the best career prospects and that's why you feel guilty?" Mac asked.
"Why? What does he think the Navy's going to let him do next; tap dance with Pam Anderson on the moon?" Keeter joked as he raised a hand to his chin.
"He thinks he's going to be the next Judge Advocate General." Mac answered.
"Ohh, two stars, getting too big for the rest of us, Hammer?" Keeter's sarcasm and mock reverence were evident.
"Are you two done ganging up on me or would you like to continue for a little while longer to make fun of the wounded former captive?" Harm made an attempt at a swing at Keeter.
"I don't have time, buddy. I have to put up a flight schedule so that some of my more juvenile stick jockeys can get some flight hours in. Back tomorrow, Hammer." Keeter tapped Harm on the foot before heading out of the room.
"It's good to see Keeter again." Mac mused as she began to lightly rub Harm's leg.
"You've been doing a lot of that lately." Harm pointed to indicate Mac's reassuring gesture.
"I almost lost you again." Mac stated solemnly. "Every time, it seems like you get that much closer to death and I feel that much more of you slipping away."
"I'm not slipping away from you, Mac. That's the last thing I want to do." Harm took her hand. "Come on, Ninja-girl. I'm still having night terrors and I'm still going to need your help to get through them and piece my memory back together." Harm gave a pat to the space on the rack next to him.
"You know, it would be scandalous for the two of us to be caught in this position." Mac smiled like a Cheshire cat.
"Who cares what the rest of the world thinks. For the first time I'm going to have to admit that I need another human being in order to manage, do you think you can be that other human being?" Harm let her curl up against his chest.
"You didn't even have to ask." Mac answered with a dreamy whisper.
1529 ZULU
CAPITOL BUILDING
WASHINGTON, DC
"This hearing of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee will come to order. The item on the agenda is the confirmation of Nathan Daniel Ross to the office of Secretary of State. This hearing of the committee is now in session." Republican Senate Majority Leader John Ling banged his gavel and the Senators took their seat. "Mr. Ross would you please stand and raise your right hand." Nate got up out of the chair and did as requested. The committee chairman took a minute to place Nate under oath.
"Alright, now Mr. Ross, we can get right down to the nitty gritty questioning or we can exchange pleasantries first. Which would you prefer?" Bobbi Latham jumped right in.
"I knew there was something about you I liked Senator and even with your forthrightness, I still can't remember what that is." Nate joked. "If you guys want to talk to sit in Foreign policy class, you can feel free to ask the questions and I'll play the role of the teacher and answer your questions."
"Fine. Mr. Ross, the United States has been roundly criticized for our policy regarding the status of detainees at the Guantanamo Bay facility; you're going to have to defend the decision of the United States government. What is your personal position on this issue?" Senator Ling pushed.
"Well, Senator, personally I think that Guantanamo Bay is a Prisoner of War camp in the same tradition as POW camps have been for the last four hundred years. It is not and should not be the position of the United States as it has not been the position of any other government in the last four hundred years to release or try prisoners before the end of a conflict. When the conflict is over, the prisoners will be tried for the war crimes that they committed and the crimes against humanity that they perpetrated against the people not only of the United States but of the free world. Senator, I think that a few years in a cramped cell can barely merit consideration as undue treatment for such criminals because let's not kid ourselves people. We caught these terrorists at Guantanamo in a war zone, red-handed. They are criminals. They are prisoners and as long as the conditions in which they are kept are a rung above torture, we are in complete accordance with international law." Nate ended by clearing his throat and taking a drink of water.
"Mr. Ross, for the better part of the last decade, you've been the White House's point man for Middle East politics. What do you see as the biggest instability in the region?" Senator Latham led the next line of questioning.
"Senator, that's like asking me my preferred calibre of bullet. The fact is, that the entire region is one giant instability with few exceptions and even they play on contingency. American relations with Pakistan are good but they suck when we have to talk to them about India. American relations with Turkey are good but they suck when we have to talk with them about human rights. American relations with Israel are exceptional but we play chicken on the Palestinian conflict. What do you want me to tell you, Senator? That there's one major problem and once we fix it, the pieces of the puzzle fall into place? That's not how diplomacy works, not with the Middle East. It's a well developed balancing act. Everyone has their issues, concerns and politics and often times they're too stubborn to see the greater good unless pummelled about the head by either the President or whomever is sitting in my chair. The Middle East is the reason that the Secretary of State has a job any more, Senator and terrorism is the reason that the job means anything." Nate took a deep breath and gulped down another drink of water.
"Terrorism is the only reason that this job means anything? Mr. Ross, the Secretary of State is fourth in line of succession to the Presidency." Bobbi grinded on.
"He absolutely is. But Senator Latham, realistically, terrorism is the greatest threat to everyone in the free world. States support it willingly or unwillingly. The biggest members of Al Qaeda retreat from the cities because modern telecommunications would make it remarkably easy for us to track them. Al Qaeda runs bankrolls in close to six and a half dozen countries including to my knowledge, countries on every continent with the exception of Antarctica although I hear they're petitioning the penguins for a savings account next week." Nate smirked quickly. "Terrorism is global, it's prevalent and we're still thinking like this is the Cold War and we're fighting communism. The same methods do not work. If we keep fighting this war like they do, we will lose. The President nominated me for this job because he thinks I know what it takes and he's hoping that you see that. From what I hear on ZNN, the American people agree with him."
"I believe that we can break for lunch." Senator Ling collected his papers and banged his gavel to signify the end of the hearing.
0211 LOCAL
USS JOHN . F. KENNEDY
SOMEWHERE IN THE PACIFIC
Night crept on into what a lot of people could describe as having been morning. Harm began to toss in his bed again another stereotypical sign that he was experiencing yet another night terror. Mac knew better then to try and rouse him when he was going through this kind of thing. She just let him toss and turn and mumble a few inane things as he struggle with a few parts of recovered memory.
Mac saw the sweat begin to glisten on his forehead and the back of his neck. Once again, he sat straight up in his bed and began to hyperventilate. "What was it this time?"
"More of the same torture, beating, dehumanization. God, Mac, I'm not sure I can do this for the rest of my life. Going to sleep only to have the worst experience of my life revisit me every time I close my eyes. It's too much, there's only one good trade off on this one." Harm admitted tiredly.
"What's the good trade off?" Mac asked as she moved closer to Harm on the rack.
"You're here. Times are tough and you're still here." Harm stopped talking and gulped heavily. "You remember earlier when we were talking about lives in a state of flux?"
"Yeah." Mac put a concerned hand on Harm's knee.
"I was thinking about a promise that we'd made a few years ago, the last time that you used those words. I couldn't help but wonder what we were actually thinking when we made that promise." Harm inched closer to her. Mac's heart stopped, was he going back on it? Where was he going with this anyway? "I've been thinking that certain parts of that deal definitely need to be amended."
"Okay, I'll bite what parts of the deal need to be amended?" Mac asked with a glare.
"Mac, neither of us would raise a child without a functioning family, not after what we both went through as kids. So, my amendment to the agreement is this. If we're going to have a kid, we should probably go for the whole suburban thing. If we're going to have a kid, I…I think we should maybe, you know, live together, for the kid's sake." Harm cautioned and watched as Mac's face took on an instant surprise. There had been a lot of things that she might have expected him to say but this was definitely not one of them.
"You don't think we'd kill each other?" Mac asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"I think that we've endured more then most married couples could ever conceive of. I believe that if we think we can raise a child together then we have to believe that we can do this." Harm answered.
"You always were the best with closing arguments." Mac grinned and took his hand in hers. "So our deal is, if neither of us is involved with someone else in one year and eight months, we'll move in together and go halves on a kid."
"Sounds like a good deal." Harm nodded. "Right now, we need to go back to sleep."
"Oh yeah, just like every other guy. Promising long term just to get me into bed." Mac fell back on the bed.
"Hey, we were in bed long before there was any long term talk." Harm pointed out.
"Yeah, Harmon Rabb, never does anything like anyone else." Mac yawned dreamily Harm watches as her eyes closed and she drifted off into sleep.
"You'll have to wait one year and eight months to find out if that's true about everything." Harm quipped as he fell back on the pillow.
0326 ZULU
OVAL OFFICE
WASHINGTON, DC
Nate Ross tapped at the door to the President's office. After a few seconds, the Presidential Secretary told him to head on in and he did. He saw President Andrew Russell hunched over the desk with his lamp as the only light in the room and the sleeves on his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.
"So, this is what it's like in the executive?" Nate had his hands in the pockets on his suit jacket.
"I heard you got sprung. Unanimous confirmation on committee; 97-1 vote in favour in the Senate with two abstentions. You're the best Secretary of State since Kissinger and the most popular one since Jefferson. Yet, I get the feeling that there a place you would rather be." The President got up from behind his desk and walked over. "Nathan, take a seat." The President motioned toward the couch. "Get you a drink?"
"Don't suppose you've got any Cabernet Sauvignon?" Nate chanced a smile.
"Mostly the standards, sorry. I do think there's a bottle of Merlot buried in the cabinet from the Ford Administration." The President walked over to his liquor cabinet and pulled out the bottle of wine and then two glasses. "Why do you drink wine anyway?"
"Life's too short for alcohol that tastes like shit." Nate sniffed from the glass.
"Nathan, you're incredibly good at what you do. I don't understand it but I'm glad that you're a part of this administration. You throw around more of the superpower weight then some Republicans and yet you still maintain that Democratic social justice streak. Life is more then platforms and negotiations and your job. The real essence of life is in the intangible moments that you can't get back; the ones that make us human, those kinds of moments can't be found behind a desk. You need other people, people you love in order to make those moments happen. I've given you this chance, Nathan. You're job will be taxing, there's no doubt but now, you can start creating your own moments." The President began to drink from his wine glass.
"Any suggestions on where to start?" Nate pursed his lips after finishing a glass of wine.
"Yeah, get out of that ratty little apartment in Pentagon City. You're the Secretary of State, get a nice condo somewhere in DC." The President counselled as he set his glass down on the coffee table.
"I always liked Foggy Bottom." Nate mused.
"It's a good neighbourhood." The President smirked as he and Nate clinked their glasses together in a silent toast. "I got the paperwork on those Navy Crosses for Galindez and MacKenzie processed today. It's amazing what a personal recommendation from the President will do for expediency."
1032 LOCAL
USS JOHN .F. KENNEDY
SOMEWHERE IN THE PACIFIC
Mac and Harm had been roused out of sleep by Keeter some time around seven that morning. They're time on the Kennedy was drawing to a close. Harm's condition was rapidly improving, now he could get around very easily with only the occasional dizzy spell. Keeter was making every effort to catch up with Harm as much as they could, having not seen each other in three years. "There's a bitch to it all, Hammer. Being this close to forty and having so little to show for it, there's a bitch to it."
"Yeah, there's a bitch to it, Keeter." Harm sat up on the edge of the bed.
"Y'ever wonder what it might have been like had Diane lived…you know?" Keeter asked timidly, knowing the sensitive nature of the subject.
"I stopped wondering because I never got anywhere. I'd like to say that Mac stopped me from wondering but when I first knew Mac, Diane was pretty much all I could think about. All I could want was to steal a few more moments with Di. But Mac and even Annie and Jordan got me passed that. I don't wonder anymore." Harm rolled his neck. "I think if she knew I was still wondering, she'd kick my ass."
"No doubt there, Di never was one for just sitting around. Speaking of just sitting around, when are you going to do something about Mac?" Keeter braved this topic with a new bravado.
"What am I going to do? I've had chances; I've blown pretty much every one of them. Right now, I'm just happy that we're still talking to each other. I hope we can keep this up for another year and eight months." Harm chuckled remembering his discussion with Mac from the night before.
"Why a year and eight months?" Keeter asked slightly puzzled.
"You'll know when it happens." Harm answered cryptically, not wanting to reveal too much of his conversation with Mac from the previous night.
"Does anyone actually understand what happens between you and Mac? I mean, I thought that you two were going to have a Casablanca moment during that goodbye in the desert but nothing happened and after three years, still nothing's happened. Buddy, make something happen." Keeter shook his head rather hard.
"Oh, to be back at the Academy when things were actually that simple. Or we at least thought they were. Keeter, if we've learned anything in twenty years in this man's Navy it's that the life we imagined for ourselves coming out of Annapolis and the life as it is, are two very different things." Harm yawned.
"You're going to be living with her until your doctor is ready to sign off on you living alone again. I suggest you take this time to really consider your situation and realize that if you wanted to. You'd never have to use the word lonely again to describe yourself. That woman will always be there for you, Hammer, and with some of the stunts you pulled, that's someone special who can stick with you through all that." Keeter got up off the chair.
"Got another flight schedule to write?" Harm asked as Keeter walked toward the hatch.
"Another day, another run on the flight deck. Get some rest, your doc tells me that you'll be out of here in a few days if you keep on track." Keeter swung through the hatch. Harm was left sitting alone on the edge of the bed. Was he really as close to Mac as the picture that Keeter had painted? Or was Keeter just another well-meaning friend who saw what he wanted to see. Then Harm thought about the fact that the two weeks of his life would be spend in Sarah MacKenzie's apartment living side by side with her. Temptation comes in many forms indeed.
Eventually Gunny dropped by to say hi and check in on things and eventually Mac came back and the two of them spent the remainder of the day talking and laughing much as they had done since they had come aboard the Kennedy. The status quo had once again crept back in, so that order would prevail in Harmon Rabb's life. He took another deep breath and asked a question that he had asked so much before: how long would it last this time?