A/N: The following deals with mature subject matter and course language. Use your discretion.
It was early, too early was the best way to put it. AJ Chegwidden hated these meetings, but for cases like this, they were necessary. He had to get Rabb and Grant out of the office before MacKenzie and Roberts got in that morning; well, before anyone got in that morning. It was 0530, the sun had not even thought of coming up yet and still, AJ Chegwidden stood in the middle the JAG bullpen as Colonel Grant and Commander Rabb got off the elevator.
"You wanted to see us, sir?" Harm asked as he and Jim walked up to the Admiral.
"Gentlemen, you're about to step into a PR hurricane. The Second Force Reconnaissance Company at Camp LeJeune has come under fire for racial discrimination. We need people on the inside as well as on the team investigating the allegations. The last X.O of the Company was a Major Rabinowicz, he died during a live fire exercise but the Pentagon believes and I think rightly so, that he was fragged."
"Holy Fuck!" Jim muttered under his breath.
"That's right, Colonel. I'm sending you two in on the ground. We don't know how high this goes and speculation is that the whole body including the head could be infected on this one. Commander Rabb, you'll reassume your role of two years ago, you are Gunnery Sergeant Jackson Post. Colonel Grant, you'll go in as the X.O of the Company and the leader of Post's platoon as Major Julius Goldstein." The Admiral handed them their cover stories.
"What kind of racism are we looking at here Admiral?" Harm inquired.
"Full-fledged, Aryan kind of hatred, Commander. Jewish people, African-Americans, Arabs, Catholics etc. This is going to be tough on both of you; I trust that you two can do your jobs but if it gets too much, don't be afraid to tap out. I thought we'd done away with this after Vietnam but, I guess it's never really over." His sombre expression was shared by the two men he was addressing. "Commander, your new uniforms are in your office. Colonel, I'm guessing you still have your old gold oak leaves from when you were a Major?"
"Yes, sir." Jim replied.
"Commander Rabb, you're dismissed." The Admiral stated firmly and Harm walked off to his office. "Jim, I don't like this. Harm's engagement and your little boy, the two of you are risking a lot but I was hearing it from everyone; the SECNAV, the Commandant, hell, even the SECDEF called me yesterday. I'll look after your son, but be careful out there."
"It's going to take more than some racist pricks to wear down this old Marine war horse. I can't believe this kind of thing still goes on in my Corps. How much do the brass know about this?" Jim had his hand on his chin, his thumb slowly raking over the stubble.
"Nothing more than what I've told you. Listen, Jim, the second you see Klan hoods, swastikas or burning crosses, you beat it out of there and take Harm with you. You're not the Commandant yet, this isn't your Corps to clean up. Just be the platoon leader you were when you earned those medals on your chest and play everything close." The Admiral sounded grim.
"Something about this just doesn't smell right. Something tells me that the head is rotting as fast as the body on this one, AJ." Jim shook his head in disbelief. "In the 70s, during the Nixon era, when they were integrating schools, I got in a lot of fights protecting black Marines; I didn't think I'd be doing the same thing twenty –five years later."
"Alright, I'm ready to go." Harm was dressed in the Marine green Class A uniform with a Gunnery Sergeant's chevrons and he even wore the garrison cap.
"Jesus Christ, Harm! You almost look like an actual Marine. Admiral, before we leave, we have to get a picture of this." Jim laughed and crossed his arms over the front of his chest. The Admiral laughed at the notion and then dug into the pocket of his blue jacket.
"Thought you'd never ask, Colonel." The Admiral took out the disposable camera and snapped a quick picture of Harm. "There, that should be good for some blackmail at his bachelor party." The Admiral tucked the camera back into his pocket.
"Give me a second, Harm. I've got to run and get my old oak leaves from my office." Jim jogged across his office and pulled out a key to open the bottom drawer of his desk.
"You keep your old rank insignia in your desk, why?" Harm asked with a look genuine confusion in his eyes.
"In case I'm asked to go undercover." Jim smiled over the desk. He took his Eagles off of his uniform and replaced them with the gold oak leaves. "Alright, Gunny Post, let's head out."
"You got it, Major Goldstein." Harm smiled and the two of them jogged through the bullpen toward the elevator. "I'm guessing that since you're a Marine, you have a ready sea bag in the jeep at all times?"
"Yeah, you brought yours, right?" Jim asked noticing the bag Harm was carrying loosely at his side.
"I keep it in my office; it's amazing how Mac's rubbing off on me." The elevator doors closed and they went down to the bottom level of JAG Headquarters. "It's going to be a long drive to North Carolina."
"Sure is; I've got Bob Seger, Bruce Springsteen, The Eagles, Tom Petty and CCR. Which one do you want to listen to first?" The two of them hopped into the Government Issue sedan.
"Why do you get to drive?" Harm whined as he took the passenger's seat.
"Because I'm the superior officer, Gunny. Besides, I'm letting you pick the music, so would you pick a CD already?" Jim commented as he fired up the car.
"Fine, I pick Seger, are you happy?" Harm laughed as he slid the CD into the CD player.
"Very much, it's good travelling music." Jim smiled as he pulled the car out of the JAG parking lot and toward the interstate.
Mac had slept at her own apartment last night, for the last time. She wanted one last night there before the lease ran out, almost for memory's sake. She went into work that morning to find neither Harm nor Jim there, which was particularly odd. Harm was usually late, sure but Jim was always early, always sitting in the break-room with Bud drinking a strong cup of Marine-strength coffee.
"Ma'am, the Admiral wants to see us in his office ASAP." Bud informed Mac as she walked through the bullpen. The two of them walked into the Admiral's office where not only the Admiral, but General McKinney, the Commandant of the Marine Corps, himself were there waiting for them.
"Major, Lieutenant, have a seat." The Admiral instructed them.
"Major, there's scuttlebutt going around that the Corps has a racial discrimination problem when it comes to the Second Force Recon Company at Camp LeJeune. Last week, they lost the Company X.O a Major Rabinowicz and a Gunnery Sergeant Hafiz during a live fire exercise. We have reason to believe that they were fragged." General McKinney was stoic and condemning in his delivery of the news.
"Sir?" Bud's shocked reply was indicative of the feeling of everyone in the room.
"Sir, wouldn't Colonel Grant be a remarkable asset to this team?" Mac protested, she knew that if Jim got wind of this investigation, he would be none too pleased to have missed it.
"The Colonel is on investigation with Commander Rabb at Camp Smedley Butler in Okinawa right now. They're not expected back for a while." AJ hated lying to her but he wasn't ready to tell her what was actually happening.
"You two, covered the Force Recon investigation out at Pendleton two years ago, you two are the two I want investigating this incident." General McKinney assured them with a nod.
"Aye, aye sir." Mac and Bud came to attention.
"Good, you're dismissed." The General stated which was followed by Mac and Bud leaving the office. "Alright AJ, if you're people can fix this major charlie-foxtrot, you'll have my signature for that petition to the SECNAV to keep Rabb and MacKenzie under the same command."
"I appreciate this, Arthur, but we've still got one hell of a minefield here and two of my people are standing right in the middle of it." Admiral Chegwidden understood the gravity of this situation but he had confidence that two of his best could handle it.
1400 ZULU
CAMP LEJEUNE
JACKSONVILLE, NORTH CAROLINA
"Welcome to Camp LeJeune, Major." Brigadier-General Walsh greeted them as they met him out in the compound. "As per the Commandant's instructions, I'm the only person who knows of the basis for your investigation as being something outside of merely the incident in question."
"Thank you for that, General. I'm told that the new X.O is addressing Second Force Recon Company this morning, I'd like to see that if you don't mind." Mac stated rather plainly. Her years with Uncle Matt had given her an uncanny knack for reading the demeanour of Recon Marines.
"Not at all, Major. I can take you over there right now. You too, Lieutenant." Bud and Mac jumped into the jeep with General Walsh and headed for the place where the new X.O was addressing Second Force Recon. "Major Goldstein sure was a find, Gunny Post, too." The General said with a smile. Then it registered with Mac, Gunnery Sergeant Jackson Post, Harm wasn't on an investigation at Smedley Butler, he was doing the footwork here.
"Did you say Gunnery Sergeant Post, sir?" Mac inquired with the General.
"You know him, Major?" The General looked over at Mac.
"The Gunny and I served in Bosnia under Captain Walls." Mac informed him.
"Gonzo' Walls? The Gunny sure was a find, Major." The General pulled the jeep up the place where Second Force Recon was being addressed by Major Goldstein who was standing up on a small hill. Julius Goldstein had a familiar build and stature and demeanour but his face was hidden under the shadow cast by his camouflage cap.
"My name, is Major Julius Goldstein! I am here to fix what God has so badly screwed up in each and every one of your sorry behinds and believe me I will succeed. Over the course of my time here, you will bleed, you will cry, you will sweat and you will break. And when you break, I will build a Marine in your place." Major Goldstein had a very heavy southern drawl. "This is not just the Marine Corps, gentlemen. This is Force Recon, more is expected of you than is expected of any other soldier on this earth. So, this is how this is going to work, if you screw up a drill, your team will run five miles. If you screw up a simulation, you will owe me three hours of push ups, if I hear anything that even remotely could be construed as a complaint, oh boy, I will make you wish you were never born much less in this man's Marine Corps." Major Goldstein was right up in Gunny Post's face. "Do you understand me!"
"Sir, yes, sir!" The Marines bellowed.
"Good, now you have precisely two minutes and twenty-nine seconds to get ready for today's drills. Dismissed!" Major Goldstein bellowed and the Marines broke off. "Gunny Post, go and get a hose and soak down that field, that's where we'll start today." The Gunny nodded and ran off to do just as his superior officer had ordered.
"Major Goldstein?" Mac inquired as she walked over to him.
"That would be me." The Major replied, a cigar hanging out of his teeth.
"Major MacKenzie, JAG Corps." Mac extended her hand and the Major merely stuck out his, not lifting his head. Mac never saw his face.
"I've been updated, Major. I know you're here to investigate, so anyone of my people you need, you just tell me or Lieutenant Colonel Benton ahead of time and you'll get them." Goldstein was walking over toward where Gunny Post was soaking the field and the Marines were standing, waiting for instruction.
"Thank you for your co-operation, Major." Mac was curious as to what this Major Goldstein looked like, there was something familiar about him.
"Not a problem, Major." Goldstein lifted his head and Mac was able to see that Major Goldstein along with Gunny Post were doing her ground work on this one. Jim Grant, undercover as her peer and fellow Major, she could enjoy her stay here at Camp LeJeune.
"I may want to speak with you and Gunny Post together at the end of the day to get your impressions on your new unit, say around 1900?" Mac inquired.
"Of course, Major." Jim smiled and jogged over to the field. Mac and Bud walked off toward their temporary office and Bud looked back to watch Jim start to take over Second Force Recon. "Alright, ladies, Gunny Post has soaked down the field as per my instructions. I'm going to get you used to Recon life today. Assume a push-up position!" Jim watched as the Marines all fell to their bellies, even Harm.
"This is how this is going to work, I will shout a quote and ask one of you for the author. If you cannot give me the author, you will run two miles and then you will come back here and do five hundred push-ups with one of your fellow Marines sitting on your back!" Jim stated emphatically. "Do you understand!"
"Sir, yes, sir!" The Marines bellowed.
"Good!" Jim remarked. "Count'em off, boys!" Jim let the Marines get the rhythm before he started into the game. He carried the personnel roster on a clipboard so that he had names. "I regret, that I have but one life to give to my country.' Who said that, Lance Corporal Graves?"
"Nathan Hale. Jr. sir!" Graves replied through a grunt.
"Good, see gentlemen, it's not that hard. 'War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it, the crueller it is, the sooner it will be over.' Who said that Sergeant Pierce?"
"Uh…Teddy Roosevelt, sir!" Came Pierce's tentative reply.
"Wrong, Sergeant! Give me those two miles!" Jim shouted and watched as Pierce got up and ran off along the track.
"What about you Corporal Jones, do you know the author of that quote?" Jim crouched down to the Marine.
"General William Tecumseh Sherman, sir!" Jones shouted.
"Very good, corporal! 'The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can and keep moving on! Who said that Gunny Post?" Jim crouched down next to Harm.
"You did, sir." It was part of the act, Harm had to irritate Jim in order to fit in with those who would hate 'Major Goldstein' because of his religion. Jim brought his boot up to Harm's ribs sending Harm flat to his stomach in the mud.
"Did you think you were being humorous, Gunny?" Jim growled at Harm, he reached down and grabbed Harm by his collar than used all the force in his arm to drag Harm through the mud to the front of the congregation of Marines, he then hauled Harm to his feet. "Answer me, Gunny! Did you think you were being humorous!" Jim looked like eight veins in his neck were raring to explode.
"No, sir!" Harm's reply came. He hadn't realized just how ruthless his friend could be if given the circumstance. Jim stood in front of Harm with his back to him. Then, before Harm could counter, Jim dealt a swift elbow to Harm's gut, then he proceed to grab Harm by the arm and haul him over his shoulder causing him to land swiftly on his back on the ground.
"Part of being a Force Recon Marine is hand-to-hand combat. Never forget that!" Jim stated emphatically as he saw Sergeant Pierce come running back to the field. Harm struggled to catch his breath for a second before Jim helped him to his feet. "Alright men, go meet up with Captain Hurst at the obstacle course!" Jim blew the whistle around his neck to dismiss the Marines.
2400 ZULU
JAG OFFICES, CAMP LEJEUNE
JACKSONVILLE, NORTH CAROLINA
Harm and Jim had their meeting with Mac and by God they were actually there on time. Harm was awful sore after his first day, Captains Hurst and Davis had been easier on him than Jim had been and he was going to say something to his friend once they were safely in the camp's JAG office. Harm walked into Mac and Bud's temporary office to see Jim already there waiting for him.
"Close the door, behind you Gunny." Mac stated so that anyone on the other side of the door could hear. Harm closed the door and sat in a chair while Jim was leaning up against a filing cabinet.
"How was your first day of Force Recon, Harm?" Mac smiled as she saw him wince.
"Sore." Was Harm's tired reply.
"Sorry about that, buddy. Hell, I was easier on you on your first day than Matt was on me way back when. When I got lippy, Matt beat the crap out of me. My first day of Force Recon training earned me four bruised ribs by Matt O'Hara's boot. Besides, you know that the harder I am on you, the more likely it is that the racists we're here to investigate will trust you." Jim gave Harm a pat on the back and in that instant all of the day's transgressions were forgiven.
"Yeah, I know and you certainly pissed off enough of the company today. I won't be surprised if you're the most hated man in the barracks when I hit the rack tonight." Harm and Jim shared a laugh and Mac cleared her throat to interrupt them.
"What, if anything, can you tell me after your first day?" Mac asked looking from one of them to the other.
"Nothing really, in drills this morning I just naturally picked on those members of the company that seemed predisposed to the kind of behaviour we're here to investigate." Jim started. "Growing up in the south, I guess detecting racists almost comes second nature."
"I heard the usual rumblings during the day and around the table in the mess this afternoon but there was nothing that would send up a flag." Harm informed her as he ran over the day in his mind.
"If you don't mind me, I do have an idea and as senior officer on this investigation, I think I should voice it." Everyone turned toward Jim. "Harm, if you hear anything tonight, go to Mac's quarters tomorrow night. If we make it look like the two of you are having an affair than they'll think they've got something that they can use to blackmail you and that might make them more open around you because they'll think they control you."
"I don't like it, you and I are in this thing up to our elbows and that's fine because we agreed to this duty but Mac didn't, I don't want to get her involved." Harm stated forcefully.
"Harm, I was only suggesting it if we have reason to believe that they're willing to talk but reluctant to trust you." Jim retorted as he saw Harm's protectiveness take over.
"Harm! I'm right here you don't have to treat me like I'm incapable of making the decisions. Now, I agree with Harm that it might not be necessary right off the bat. However, if they are reluctant to trust you, this may be our only recourse. I don't like it either but, Harm when I signed up as a JAG officer I agreed to this duty too." Mac looked her fiancé sternly in the eye.
"I know, but you can't blame me for wanting to keep you out of trouble, can you?" Harm pleaded and a smile grew on Mac's face.
"Do I need to remind the two of you that it's normally you two that get me into trouble?" Mac questioned with a laugh.
"Can't argue with the facts." Jim added as he and Harm headed out of the office. Harm was bunking with the enlisted men in their quarters while Jim was given a house on base as part of his cover. Harm made the walk across the base from the JAG offices to the enlisted quarters and the second he reached the foot of his bunk, he threw himself down on it. He was bunking near two of the enlisted that Jim had picked out during the drills that morning. On one side was Sergeant Pierce and on the other side Corporal Graves.
"I can't believe it, the second one kike leaves; we get another one in here." Graves muttered loud enough for Harm to hear.
"What do you mean, Graves?" Harm inquired trying to bait the young man.
"Major Julius 'thinks he's fucking Caesar' Goldstein, Gunny." Sergeant Pierce informed him. "At least you're one of us, last Gunny we had in here was that rag-head Hafiz."
Their bigotry was really turning Harm's stomach. Here were two people, completely unable to look past what a person was to see who the person was. He was wondering how hard he was going to have to look to find the Klan hoods underneath their bunks.
"Speaking of rag-heads, did you see that pretty little Marine Major JAG officer that come into camp with General Walsh, this afternoon?" Graves was crossing lines he didn't know existed by talking about Mac.
"Yeah, she might be one of them, but I'd still take her for a ride on the old divining rod." Pierce laughed from his place on his bunk. "What about you, Gunny? What's your opinion our lovely majorette?"
'Mac and God forgive me for what I'm about to say' Harm thought. "Yeah, she sure is something to look at, boy, but like you said, she's one of them." Harm could swear he felt his stomach lurch upward.
"Just because roots of the tree are rotting, doesn't stop the fruit from being fun to enjoy, Gunny." Graves laughed as he turned in.
'Well, what do I know? I know that my bunk-mates are raging racists. I know that Jim's got a nose for picking racists out of a crowd. I know that both he and Mac could be in some serious trouble.' Harm's thoughts were torturous; he had nothing that could incriminate them in the murders of Rabinowicz and Hafiz and he might have to wait until either his friend or his fiancée were in danger to do anything.
0800 ZULU
ENLISTED QUARTERS, CAMP LEJEUNE
JACKSONVILLE, NORTH CAROLINA
At 0300 that morning, Jim Grant – known to Second Force Recon as Major Goldstein – burst through the door of the enlisted quarters with a metal pot and a wooden spoon to wake his Marines. The sound of the spoon hitting the pan rang through the quarters as the Marines began to stir. "On your feet, Marines! Alright ladies, I've got you until Captain Hurst takes over at 1000 this morning. That gives me seven hours to square you away. If you aren't sweating, bleeding or crying by the end of the day. You are not working hard enough!"
Harm – known as Gunny Post to Second Force Recon – was out of his bunk and on his feet but Corporal Graves was slow to stir and that made him the perfect target for Jim's gung-ho attitude. Jim walked over to Graves' bunk and placed the pot on the Corporal's head before banging on the pot with his spoon. "On your feet, Graves!" The Marine tried to scramble to his feet but they were caught in his bed sheet. Graves crashed to the floor Jim placed a foot on Graves' back as the young man lay on the floor. Master Sergeant Andrews had turned the lights on in the barracks and the Marines were all focused on Major Goldstein.
"Graves, you are one sad excuse for a Marine, you know that? But, that's okay, because I'm going to turn this scared little boy into one very squared away Marine!" Jim smiled widely as he saw Graves scowl even Harm was having a hard time keeping the grin from his face. "Get ready, Marines, you're about to run twenty miles this morning! And then we'll do some hard callisthenics to wake you up. I'll be taking you over to the wall at 0830. Hop to, Marines!" Jim and Master Sergeant Andrews left the barracks.
"I swear, that crazy kike is going to run us into the ground." Pierce muttered as he pulled on his cammies.
"Think he's trying to kill us?" Harm suggested, the very fact that he had to make that inference made his skin crawl but he had to be in character.
"Wouldn't be the first time that one of them, tried to kill a good white boy." Graves stated as he put his camouflage cap on. The enlisted quarters emptied out and the Marines came into formation in front of Major Goldstein.
"Alright, we're going for a run. If you get lost, report back to camp and expect to be kicked out of this program because you are not Force Recon material! I have no doubt in my mind that I have got to be looking at the shabbiest bunch of recruits that the Department of the Navy has ever allowed to be put in a Marine Corps uniform. You all are a disgrace to the fine tradition of the USMC. So I am going to make it my personal mission to make your lives hell, so that you rise to the challenge of what it means to be a Marine!" In the cold September morning you could see Jim's breath rise like steam from his nose as he stood in Sergeant Pierce's face.
Jim and Master Sergeant Andrews lead the Marines through ten miles of brush and woods in the North Carolina countryside. The Marines that were trying to make through Force Recon training were having problems navigating the forest trails that Jim and the Master Sergeant were making them run. After more than an hour they came to the foot of a great monument that looked to be in some public park. The statue was black and it showed a great figure looking into the horizon. "Gentlemen, this is a monument to General William Tecumseh Sherman, the man who put down the greatest nuisance in American history, known as the Confederacy. Sherman, even though he was Army, did everything it took to ensure the survival of the greatest union that this world has ever known. That is what is asked of you as United States Marines." Jim examined the Marines that had taken the run through the brush and he saw a few scowling faces.
"Sherman will never be Lee." Harm stated to gain Jim's attention and further their little charade. Jim walked over and without a second thought, grabbed Harm by the front of his cammies and threw him down to the forest floor.
"Did I ask you to talk, Gunny!" Jim shouted as he placed his foot square in the middle of Harm's chest.
"Sir, no, sir!" Harm replied almost enthusiastically.
"You would do well to remember that, Gunny!" Jim put a little more weight on his foot under he could feel Harm twitch in discomfort, then he laid off. "Get back in formation, Gunny!"
"You would all do well to remember that for the duration of your time here, your collective asses are mine! Any outbursts as such and I can promise you one very large world of pain, do you understand me?" Jim threatened as he walked amongst the Marines.
"Sir, yes, sir!" The Marines chorused. Jim was starting to remember what it was like to be back in the real Marine Corps. A desk at JAG had it's moments, but this was the Corps where you formed minds and shaped men. They called it indoctrination but the old guard of the Marine Corps called it 'the way things were meant to be done'. After callisthenics and the wall, Jim sent the Marines off to deal with Captain Hurst for the rest of the day.
Hurst wasn't as tough on Harm and the rest of Second Force Recon was Jim was. Well, he wasn't tough on most of Second Force Recon, he did tend to single out the African-American and Latino members though. He came down hard on them when they struggled with parts of the course but he was light on Harm, Graves and Pierce if they did.
This case was unsettling, he wasn't sure how far up this corruption of common sense went, but he feared that it had seeped into the highest parts of this chain of command. Out in the field, Jim was a mean cuss, there was no doubting that, but he was the same mean cuss with everybody that crossed him. He had once been told that there was a reason that there had never been a Marine Corps version of 'tailhook' and that was that in one Marine Corps chain of command there was always one good officer that balanced off everyone else. For Marines, their country was like a child, it was theirs to protect and good Marine Corps officers were capable of putting that above all else.
In Harm's mind, he knew he'd had the pleasure of meeting the best Marine Corps officers. It amazed him exactly how much like Matt O'Hara, Jim Grant actually was. But there was the other side to the Corps as well. Men like Graves, Pierce and Hurst who saw their loyalties to their skin colour as superseding their loyalties to the Corps. Major Julius Goldstein was an obstacle for them, a six-foot-three wall of muscle with a cigar hanging out of his teeth. Harm knew that with the way he pushed Graves and Pierce it would only be a matter of time before he drove them to edge.
Earlier in the day, Pierce had trouble getting over the wall and Jim had taken it upon himself to berate the young man, dressing him down in front of the entire platoon and taking his time in doing it. Harm tried to suppress the thought that he was enjoying watching Graves get what was coming to him. He watched Graves squirm like a worm under a hot rock as Jim Grant leaned into him with everything that he was and even more.
By the end of the day, the enlisted men of Second Force Recon were tired and sore. Harm was sweating buckets as he sat on his bunk. Graves and Pierce were bleeding and complaining about 'Major Goldstein' just as Jim had wanted.
"I'm gonna kill that fucking Jew!" Pierce shouted as he tended to the cuts on his arms. "Show him what happens when you embarrass one of your betters."
"Easy Pierce, we've got the meeting tonight. I'm sure that one of the leaders will bring it up." Graves assured him. That was all Harm needed to hear, he could get into that meeting if he sounded indignant enough.
"I swear, I'll frag the son-of-a-bitch myself, if he thinks he can get away with tossing me around the way he has." Harm warned, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white.
"Calm down, Gunny, there are ways of handling these problems already in place. You'll see if you come with us tonight." Pierce offered.
"I don't care where I have to go or what I have to do. That…thing," Harm couldn't bring himself to use a racial slur, even in character. "Isn't going to get away with tossing me around."
"Alright Guns, you're coming with us tonight, there are people that know how to deal with problems like Major Kike." Graves acted like he was trying to settle Harm down but in reality he'd fallen right into the plot. Tonight, he would get to the root of the problem at Camp LeJeune. Harm had forgotten a piece of advice that Jim Grant had given him a year earlier out in the California dessert. Easy entrances normally mean that exit will be a bitch.