[A/N] I'm more comfortable writing action sequences than dialog, so the positive response to this story caught me off guard. It has a readership greater than my previous two "action" stories combined, which is not to say that you shouldn't read those two stories.
I don't think that is was established as canon that Frank Burnett had a bad heart, but nearly all JAG fan fiction stories give Frank a bum ticker, so I felt obligated to do the same. I want to thank the readers who took the time to review my story, as well as those who marked it as a favorite. I am flattered.
Chapter 3
La Jolla
Saturday, 10 October, 1998
1300 PDT
Burnett Residence
La Jolla, CA
The barbeque season was coming to an end, but because the Fall weather in San Diego was still comfortably warm, Frank Burnett wheeled his gas grill out of it's storage cabinet and gave it a once over.
Harm and Mac were was due arrive at 3:30PM. Trish had been excited to hear that Mac was joining Harm, but she insisted there be a hands-off policy in her son's personal life.
On the other hand, Frank wondered what was Harm waiting for? Sarah MacKenzie was beautiful and brilliant, and she was nothing like the parade of girls that Harm had brought home over the years. If Harm couldn't see this for himself, Frank felt that what his stepson needed was a swift kick in the ass.
After setting up the grill, Frank went over to the patio bar and mixed a gin martini- Bombay Sapphire gently stirred and served very dry.
Frank's doctor insisted that the martinis were bad for him. What else was new?
From the time he was 9 years old, everything had been bad for Frank Burnett.
It began as a sore throat, but quickly became strep. In Frank's youth strep throat could become a medical crisis, and Frank developed Rheumatic fever which left him with a heart murmur. The mummer prevented Frank from participating in sports or strenuous school activates. It also kept him out of the Boy Scouts, and disqualified him from military service.
Following WWII, Frank enrolled in the University of Southern California and majored in mechanical engineering. After graduating from USC with a Master of Engineering degree, Frank went to work at the Chrysler Corporation's Maywood assembly plant in nearby Culver City.
The Korean War was at its peak with the Maywood plant producing aircraft engines for the US Navy. The Chrysler bosses emphasized that this was important work, but for Frank Burnett, who stood on the sidelines while men his age went to war, it was bitter-sweet.
Frank worked his way up the corporate ladder so that by age 30 he was the youngest VP at Chrysler.
In 1961 Frank was tapped by Chrysler's President Lynn Townsend to come to Detroit to work in the firm's revolutionary turbine-engine automotive program. When Chrysler sent its small fleet of turbine cars across North America, Europe and Mexico, Frank visited 90 cities and gave rides in the cutting edge car to thousands of people, including many important government officials.
When Chrysler's turbine program ended in 1966, Frank returned to Maywood as a senior VP and was given a corner office. From that point on, Frank's horizons at Chrysler were limitless.
Frank was being groomed for one of Chryslers top slots. President? Chairman of the Board? Nothing was out of his reach.
The 1974 Oil Crisis hit the US auto industry hard. As the smallest of the Big 3 automakers, Chrysler lacked the resources to meet the new challenges. One of the first steps was to close down many of the company's assembly plants; including Maywood.
Frank's father had done well by dabbling in Southern California real estate and Frank had inherited a handsome sum from his family's estate. When Chrysler offered Frank an early retirement package he left the firm and never looked back.
It had taken over a year for Frank to construct his La Jolla dream home. In the meantime, he had married Patricia Rabb, the widow of a naval aviator with a young son, Harmon Rabb Jr. Although Patricia Rabb had declared her husband dead, the US Navy listed Harmon Rabb Senior as MIA, and Frank's relationship with his stepson was strained.
So far as Frank was concerned, this was water under the bridge.
When Harm had called and told his mother that Russia had proven to be another dead end, Trish had taken it well- she hadn't expected to hear anything else.
Harm could have left it at that but because he was coming out to see his mother, Frank suspected that Harm had more to say. Frank knew that Trish held onto the slim hope that Harm Senior might somehow be alive.
Frank loved Trish and he loved his stepson, Harm. What Frank secretly wished was that they could bury Harmon Rabb Senior once and for all.
Saturday, 10 October, 1998
1500 PDT
San Diego International Airport
Once Harm and Mac had cleared the terminal they rented a Chrysler LHS, a full sized luxury sedan. Mac was surprised by Harm's choice, but he explained that he always rented a Chrysler when he visited his mother and Frank.
Mac was less than pleased with the young woman working the counter at the rental car agency. She was a tall blonde who shamelessly flirted with Harm, asking if he and his "sister" (Mac) needed assistance with their luggage?
Harm had smiled, but Mac wanted to punch the girl in the nose.
Traffic on I-5 north was heavy, but it was a short drive from the airport to the Burnett's home near La Jolla Coves. Even so, from the time they got into the rental car, Harm had hardly spoken.
Mac was worried. It was hard enough to get Harmon Rabb to express his feelings. His silence only made it worse.
Mac looked over at Harm. "I'll pay you $20 if you'll say ten words."
"I'm sorry, Mac. I'm just trying to think how I can explain to my mother about my dad being confirmed as KIA in Vietnam. All that I told her over the phone was that Russia had been a wild goose chase. She's used to hearing stories like that coming from me."
"You're not considering telling her the truth?"
"It might be for the best," Harm said off hand.
"No, it won't. Telling Trish that your father died in Russia means her knowing that he endured years of torture, abuse and loneliness while in solitary confinement. Why put her through that agony?"
"It's just that I hate lying to my mother."
"Don't think about that. Think about everything you said about honoring your father's memory."
"No matter what I tell my mother, it will be the hardest thing I've done in my life."
"You're a good son, Harm. You'll do the right thing."
Harm smiled at Mac. "When do I get my twenty bucks?"
"If you're a good boy I'll take you out for lunch this week. But only if you behave."
When the car turned off Prospect Blvd and onto an exclusive private road, Mac was amazed at the opulence of the neighborhood. "It must have been wonderful growing up here," she said.
"I had some good times here. When I was a second class midshipman I invited some of my Academy friends to spend three weeks of our summer vacation at the house."
"Did you invite Diane?" Mac asked point blank.
The question hit Harm like a punch to the gut. "She was included in the group."
"Were any of your other female classmates invited?" Mac insisted.
"Not to the best of my recollection."
"So, it was just her?" Mac demanded.
Before Harm could formulate an appropriate answer they arrived at the house. Harm parked the car in the driveway and they entered the property through the side gate.
"What does a man have to do to get a drink around here?" Harm asked Frank, who was seated on the patio and enjoying the fresh off shore breeze, and a fresh martini.
Frank got on his feet. "It's good to see you, son. Mac, you're looking beautiful, as always."
Mac gave Frank a hug. "You're looking pretty good yourself."
Frank indicated to a large pitcher on the bar. "How about a martini, Harm?"
"I could use one."
"Tonic water with a twist. Right, Mac?" asked Frank.
"That would be wonderful." Mac's telling Trish and Frank about her alcoholism when they'd met for the first time last year had made things so much easier.
When the sliding glass door opened and Trish walked onto the patio, Harm raced over to embrace his mother, "Hello, Mom."
""Hello, Darling." Trish looked over at Mac. "It's wonderful to see you again, Mac. Thank you for coming to stay with us."
"It's good to see you too, Trish. Thank you for inviting me."
"Trish, would you care for a martini?" Frank asked his wife.
"I'll have one before dinner. Right now I want to visit with Harm and Mac."
Frank dispensed the drinks and then sat down across from Harm. "When we heard ZNN's reporting of the MiG going down, your mother and I were concerned."
"The press made too much of it. Even so, I'm afraid that along the way, we lost all of the money you gave me."
Frank wasn't the least bit interested in the money, which was nothing but paper to him. "Both of you coming back safe is all that's all that matters to your mother and I."
Harm looked over at his mother and hesitated before finally saying, "Russia was a wild goose chase, but I have more information about dad."
"What now?" Trish's voice was edgy, almost angry. How many times must she endure this?
"He's been officially listed a KIA in Vietnam. It was a year long investigation. The DoD had the papers waiting for me when I got home."
"Are they sure?" asked Frank.
"The evidence is conclusive. He died on the ground on Christmas Eve, 1969. I have a copy of the file with me. I'll go to the car and get it."
"No!" said Trish.
"But I brought it for you, mom," Harm said.
Trish's voice was stern. "Frank, Mac, I need some time alone with my son."
"Mac, why don't I show you around the neighborhood. After that we can bring in the luggage," Frank suggested.
"Yes, that's a great idea," and Mac and Frank hurried out through the side gate.
"Are they 100% certain that your father is dead?" Trish asked.
"The Mortuary Affairs report left no room for doubt."
Trish pulled no punches. "Have they found his body?"
"No. But the evidence is irrefutable. The report is in the file."
"I've heard enough. Shred the file or burn it. I do not want that file in my house."
"If that is what you want me to do."
Trish looked directly at her son. "Harmon, is there any doubt in your own mind that your father is dead?"
"There's no doubt...Daddy's dead." Harm began to cry. "I'm sorry, mommy. I'm sorry that I had to be the one to tell you, but the Navy couldn't notify you."
Trish felt relieved knowing that her ordeal was finally over. Her grief was for her son, who was crying.
She had finished her own crying decades ago.
Trish made her way over to Harm. She held his head and began gently stroking his hair. "It's alright, darling. Mommy is here. Just let it all out."
When Harm had stopped crying, Trish went to the bar for a towel and gave it to Harm so that he could wipe his eyes. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine now. After everyone goes to bed, I'll burn the file. Just like you wanted," said Harm.
"Harmon, I want you to understand that I haven't stopped loving your father. Nothing could make me do that. But I want to remember him exactly as he was the last time I saw him. Do you remember when we watched the tugs moving the Ticonderoga away from the dock?"
"I do. Dad was on the flight deck with the old squadron. Dad and Bill were waving to me and Tom was jumping up and down so much that I thought he was going to fall off the ship." Harm's face broke into a broad smile.
"Harmon, when I see that smile, I see your father. Please, don't allow what has happened to take that smile away...it's all that I have left of him."
Mac and Frank had been walking for fifteen minutes. Mac knew that Frank had a bad heart and while Frank showed no sign of being tired, Mac insisted that they head back to the house.
"Frank, this entire area is a paradise. How on earth did you find it?" Mac asked.
"My father was a captain in the Marine Corps Reserve. When he was recalled to active duty during WWII he was stationed at Camp Mathews, which was nearby."
"Your father was a Marine? No wonder I like you so much."
"He served with the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines during the First World War, or 'The Great War' as he called it."
"Did he see combat?"
"My father was awarded a Purple Heart for wounds he received during the Battle of Belleau Wood."
Mac was impressed. "That's one of the most famous battles in the history of the Corps."
"He received a second Purple Heart after being gassed. He was in the hospital when the Armistice was signed in November, 1918.
"It sounds like your dad was a damned fine Marine."
"I suppose that he was, but he didn't talk much about the fighting. My mother said that he suffered from nightmares for years. I don't know what he saw in France but it must have been horrific. Regardless, I fell in love with La Jolla as a boy. When I retired from Chrysler this is where I decided to build my dream house."
"You have a lovely home."
"It didn't become a real home until Trish and Harm moved in. Once I had a family of my own, the house was truly complete."
"You had never been married?" asked Mac.
"When I was working I was never able to find the time for a serious relationship. Back then my job was my life, so it wouldn't have been fair for me to have had a wife. When I met Trish, everything changed."
How could Harm not have liked this man? I would have given anything to have had my mother divorce my own father and then marry Frank Burnett.
The pair walked on in silence while enjoying each other's company. When they reached the house, Frank cautiously poked his head past the side gate. Seeing that Harm and Trish were talking and smiling, Frank waved to Mac, and they walked onto the patio.
"I hate to break this up, but how about giving me a hand with the luggage?" Mac said to Harm, who got up to assist her.
Frank poured another martini and sat down next to Trish. "What happened?"
"Harm Senior is dead. He was killed in action in Vietnam on Christmas Eve...just as I had always thought," Trish said matter of fact.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I truly am."
"I knew that he was dead. I don't know why I allowed myself believe otherwise."
"Are you okay?" asked Frank.
"Yes, I'm fine. Let's not dwell on this. I don't want it to ruin our visit with Harm and Mac."
Frank reached over and took his wife's hand. "You're a remarkable woman, Trish. Harm Senior and I are both lucky to be able to call you our wife."
When Harm and Mac came back to the patio through the sliding glass door, Frank said, "I'm sorry. I should have helped you with the bags."
"It's alright. Mac moved the bags inside with no trouble," Harm joked. He had left his briefcase and the file it contained inside the car and would burn the file tonight.
"Marines are used to doing all of the heavy work while the Navy takes all of the credit," said Mac.
Harm looked at Trish. "Mac can have the guestroom. I'll sleep on the sofa bed in the study."
Frank and Trish stared at each other in disbelief. They had taken for granted that Harm and Mac would be sleeping together so that only the guestroom was made up.
"I'll need to finish making up the study," said Trish.
"I'll give you a hand," said Mac, who was clearly disappointed by the sleeping arrangements.
"We can do it after dinner."
"Speaking of dinner, I'm starved," said Frank. "Tonight we have a choice of grilled shrimp or a thick rib eye."
"I'll have the shrimp," said Harm.
"I'll have the same," said Trish.
"How about you, Mac?" Frank asked.
"I want the steak," she said in an eager voice.
"How do you like it cooked?"
"Rare."
"That's my girl," and Frank lit the grill.
