[A/N] I appreciate the continued interest in this story. I read and carefully consider each review and private message, and it is clear that without Harm and Mac "shipping", no story can survive in the world of JAG fan fiction. As for my writing another war story- I'd love to, but no one reads them. War stories are also quite difficult to write, at least they are if you want to get the details correct, which I strive to do.
I do not believe it was ever established how Sarah MacKenzie entered Marine Officer Candidate School. It has been suggested that Mac was prior enlisted, but in this story, Mac entered the Corps via the Officer Candidates Course, where college graduates are commissioned immediately upon graduation from OCS, but there are other paths to gaining a commssion in the USMC.
I have to give a shout-out to Rebecca S., a graduate of OCS Class 208 in 2011. Although I was only able to use about 10% of the stories she told me (some of them were unbelievable), her assistance was invaluable. Thank you for your service, Becca.
My idea of fan fiction is to see things we haven't seen, meet people we haven't met, and go to places where we haven't been. So lets go there now...
Chapter 10
Boots On The Ground
Harm and Mac returned home from the gliderport just before midnight.
Harm claimed he wanted a late-night snack, and then slowly ate a bowl of pasta salad while Mac stared at him from across the kitchen table.
The condemned man's last meal?
Harm rinsed his bowl and then placed it into the dishwasher. "I suppose we should turn in."
This is a positive development, thought Mac, who followed Harm down the hall and into the study where she watched while he struggled to unfold the sofa bed.
"I can never get this thing to unlatch. Will you give me a hand?"
"Of course." Mac had the bed unfolded in an instant, and then stood by in anticipation of what was to follow.
"Thanks. Can I get a kiss before I go to bed?"
"You can get more than that, Sailor." Mac's voice was sultry and seductive; yet somehow familiar.
Mac moved to the door and pushed it closed with her foot. She moved back to Harm, pressing her body tightly against his, and then she reached under his sweatshirt and began running her hands up and down his chest so that her fingers tangling in his chest hair.
"That feels nice." Mac began rubbing her cheek over Harm's chest, and then she bit one of his nipples.
"Ouch! What was that for?"
Mac looked up at him and grinned. "Want to return the favor and bite one of miner?"
"What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing has gotten into me...or at least not yet." Mac reached down and unbuckled Harm's belt.
"Slow down. I've never seen you act like this before," Harm said.
"You mean acting like a woman who wants to get into bed with the man she loves? The man who just said that he loves her."
"That was at the gliderport. We were caught up in the moment."
Mac pulled away. "Don't you dare to backpedal on me, Harmon Rabb." Mac's voice going from seductive to venomous.
"I'm not. I just feel that before we commit to sleeping together, we should have our talk."
Mac would admit that Harm was being reasonable. After all, she was the one who wanted to move ahead. The problem was that Harm was always being reasonable; though only when it was convenient.
"When will this talk take place?" Mac asked.
"Tomorrow morning. Frank plays golf on Tuesdays, and my mother will be at the gallery. I can't imagine anything that would interfere."
Harm was too tall for Mac to look him directly in the eye, so she gave him a push- which was actually a hard shove. Harm found himself on the edge of the mattress, and on the receiving end of an icy stare.
"Listen up, Mister. If an earthquake levels this city tomorrow, you and I will sit atop the rubble and have our talk. Do you read me?"
"Loud and clear," said Harm, who looked nervously around the room.
"I swear to god, Harm, if you reach for travel brochure, I will slap you."
"Of course not. Do I get my goodnight kiss?"
"Harmon Rabb, you are the most exasperating man I have ever met." Mac brushed her lips lightly on his cheek.
"That's it?"
"That was more than you deserve."
Harm's face took on the innocence of a 6 year old. "Good night, Mac."
No wonder his mother could never refuse him. But I'm not his mother. Even so...
"Goodnight, Harm," and Mac kissed him full on the lips before leaving the room.
With Mac gone, Harm heaved a sigh of relief, and then flopped back onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling.
Sarah MacKenzie was not a woman to be trifled with. Harm knew that he was playing a dangerous game by attempting to balance Mac's desires with his own, while trying to maintain the friendship and professional relationship they had developed over the past two years.
It was losing the battle.
Harm looked around the room. There were just too many memories here. What Harm needed was for the two of them to get out of the house for a couple of days.
Harm took out his laptop, went online, and began researching the five star resorts in the San Diego area.
The beach season was over, but the possibility of seeing Mac in a swimsuit was irresistible. If Mac hadn't packed a swimsuit, he'd buy one for her.
Maybe a red one-piece like Diane wore? After all, Diane had legs that wouldn't quit. On the other hand, Mac is racked. They are huge. Don't even think about it, Rabb, and Harm began to narrow his choices to beach resorts.
Back in her own room, Mac found a stack of neatly folded laundry on her bed along with two pieces of wrapped chocolate.
Wow. Trish really is the ultimate mother.
Mac ate the chocolate, showered and then put on her long flannel nightgown.
After climbing into bed, Mac grabbed the second pillow, pulled it tightly against herself, and went to sleep imagining that Harm was lying next to her.
When Mac opened her eyes, she automatically reached across the bed. She was disappointed to find that the space beside her was empty and cold.
Mac made her bed, making sure that the top sheet received perfect 45 degree hospital corners. Mac then joined the sheets with the blanket, making a 6-inch-wide fold running evenly across the mattress, while leaving 12 inches exposed between the fold and the headboard.
In Officers Candidate School, that 12 inch fold was measured down to 1/32 of an inch. It would have been less, but Staff Sergeant Hooper ran out of lines on her ruler.
Mac trembled at the thought of Hooper; a woman so mean it was said that she rolled her own tampons.
Mac's rackmate, Daphne, never got the hang of making her bed, so one morning Mac made the bed for her.
That night, Daphne didn't sleep in the bed. To keep it looking perfect for Staff Sergeant Hooper's inspection, Daphne slept on the floor beside the bed until 0430, when she had to get up so that fire watch could mop the floors.
The Instructor Sergeants messed with candidates heads constantly; highlighting failures at every opportunity and refusing to give credit for anything positive. Being a female candidate meant enduring critiques and name calling from the female Instructors which were much harsher than the male candidates received.
Mac was considered the platoon's prettiest girl, so Hooper singled her out and began calling her a walking mattress, and worse.
"There's a mile of swinging dick here at Quantico, but you won't get a single inch of it, sweetheart."
Mac wasn't at OCS to find a boyfriend. None of the girls were.
Mac's platoon was a diverse group of young women, some of whom had known lives of real hardship, including arbitrary violence and abuse. The Marine Corps offered these young women a comprehensible system of reward and punishment, clearly-defined tasks and a sense of collective self-esteem. Having a tryst with a male candidate was the last thing on their minds.
There were eight platoons in Mac's OCS class, but only one platoon was female. With 54 women in the all-female squad bay, and with no privacy, the mind games were frequent.
Mac was not sociable by nature, which meant that many of the female candidates considered her to be aloof. After Mac went undefeated in pugil stick matches, even the biggest girls in the platoon; a few of them over 6 feet tall, wouldn't mess with her, at least not physically.
Instead they used "spear-evals" (peer evaluations) which were petty and unjust, and were one more thing that Mac had to deal with.
Mail call at OCS was a cause for celebration, but Mac's only correspondence was with her Uncle Matt, whose first letter read: "You're going to get frustrated. You're going to want to scream, and you're going to want to cry, but you can do this. You can do anything, Sarah. I believe in you. Uncle Matt."
During the ten week course the candidates were constantly watched and tested in stressful situations. No one cares if you are a good leader on a good day, evaluations took place when things got hard. Candidates were monitored to learn how they handled being hot, dirty, sleep deprived, hungry, screamed at, and to see if they would snap under pressure... or simply give up. Giving up was the worst possible course of action.
"For god's sake, do something, even it's wrong!" the Instructors would scream.
Mac's Platoon started with 54 and graduated 24; a much worse percentage than in the male platoons where over 70% of the candidates graduated. The drops included a combination of dropped on request- one girl decided to look into the Army- injuries, failed boards (academics), integrity violations, and shortcomings in leadership; especially leadership.
OCS was run by Senior NCOs, nearly all of them men. They decided who they wanted as officers in their Corps, and who they wanted leading their young Marines. Many of the SNCO's didn't want those officers to be female. The result was that fewer than 8% of commissioned officers in the Corps were women, which gave the Marine Corps the lowest ratio of female officers in all of the U.S military branches.
Nevertheless, 24 females survived the ordeal; including Sarah MacKenzie.
At the Eagle Globe and Anchor graduation ceremony, Mac's Platoon Commander, a captain who had the unnerving habit of responding to questions with one-word answers, congratulated the new Marines.
"Welcome to the Corps. We live like soldiers and talk like sailors, and slap the shit out of both of them. We stole the eagle from the Air Force, the anchor from the Navy, and the rope from the Army. On the 7th day, while God rested, we over-ran his perimeter and stole the globe, and we've been running the show ever since."
"OORAH!" came the cheer.
Following the graduation ceremony, Staff Sergeant Brenda Hooper congratulated Mac. "I knew from the first day that you were going to make it, but it wouldn't have been fair to the other candidates if you weren't tested. I pushed you HARD, but you're not a quitter." Hooper looked Mac straight in the eye. "Lieutenant MacKenzie, you're destined to become someone important in the Marine Corps. If you make it to Commandant, I won't be surprised."
Mac shook Hooper's hand. "Thank you, Staff Sergeant. I'll never forget you."
Mac placed both pillows centered on the 12-inch white space, 4 inches from the fold, and then tucked the blanket under the mattress tightly on both sides. She smoothed out the edges, and smiled knowing that a quarter would easily bounce 6 inches above the mattress.
My father may be a miserable SOB, but he taught me how to make a bed properly.
Mac tidied up the room and put on her freshly washed running clothes before going out in search of coffee.
Frank was already in the kitchen and was watching a repeat of Chuck DePalma's segment on US-Vietnamese relations on the TV.
Frank switched off the set. "Good Morning, Mac. How about a cup of coffee?"
"That sounds wonderful, but what about yourself?"
"No coffee for me. I have a doctor's appointment this morning, so it will be Shredded Wheat with skim milk for breakfast. Where were you and Harm off to last night?"
"We went out to the gliderport and did a bit of star gazing."
"So that's what you two are calling it."
"Please, Frank."
"I'm teasing you. Harm would go out there every now and then, but always alone."
God help him if I find out that he took Diane there, Mac thought.
"Trish would imagined all sorts of horrible things going on like drinking and drugs. Of course Harm would have never been involved with any of those things. What is it about mothers that makes them worry about their children so much?"
Not all of them. Some mothers run away.
"For a child, safety comes in the form of a person who is predictable and stable. For most of Harm's life his father was either deployed or MIA. Trish was always there for him, and she is protective."
"Mother polar bears aren't as protective as Trish," said Frank, who decided to pour himself half a cup of coffee.
"Did the two of you consider having a child of your own?" asked Mac. "I'm sorry. That's none of my business."
"It's alright. When we were first married, Trish was still a young woman. Of course we discussed adding to our family, although we weren't sure how Harm might react to having a younger brother or sister."
"Harm would have been a wonderful big brother," Mac said without any doubt in her mind. "Did you want a boy or a girl?"
"I wanted a little girl."
Mac smiled. "I thought as much."
"It's more than that. I wanted child of my own. Someone who would call me Daddy, and not Frank, like Harm does."
"Harm loves you like a father. He just can't say it," explained Mac.
I need him to say it, Frank thought.
"The baby never happened. I suppose it wasn't meant to be." Frank shrugged and then finished his coffee. "Are you ready for our walk?"
"I'm looking forward to it."
"I'll have to take it easy this morning, but if I'm moving too slow, feel free to break away."
"Frank, I never want to break away from you."
"That's my girl."
With Frank not wanting to exert himself, their pace was slower. It was also work day, so traffic on the local streets was heavy. Even so, Mac was happy to do several laps around the park.
"This old man needs a break," said Frank, who sat down on a bench which had a marvelous view of the ocean.
"I keep telling you that there isn't an old man here," said Mac, who sat down next to him. "Can I ask you something? It's about the family, and it's personal."
"I getting too old to keep secrets. Father Time is busy arranging for my silence."
"I wish you wouldn't talk like that."
"With my bum ticker, I've been on borrowed time since I was in grade school. What do you want to know about Harm...I mean about our family?"
"I watched Chuck DePalma's report on Vietnam last night. When I asked Trish about Harm's trip to Vietnam she became upset. I asked Harm about it last night at the gliderport and all that he told me was that you traveled with him to Thailand. I kept pressing, but Harm won't say anything at all about Vietnam."
"It's not a pretty story. But after everything you and Harm went through in Russia, I suppose that you should hear it. Please don't tell Harm or Trish that I shared it with you."
"Of course I won't tell."
"After American forces withdrew from Vietnam there was no reason to believe that Harm Senior was ever coming home. Other than a notification of his promotion, there had been no official updates from the Navy in over four years. That was when Trish began the process of declaring him dead in absentia."
"That must have been difficult for her."
"It was, but it was her decision. Once Trish and I were married, Trish's allotment checks stopped, but Harm continued to draw a benefit check from the Navy every month. The money belonged to Harm, and he used it to hire investigators who claimed they had contacts inside Vietnam."
"That's quite an undertaking for such a young man."
"There were wives and family members of other MIAs doing the same thing. Unfortunately, all of the investigators proved to be charlatans- scum of the earth in my opinion who stole everyone's money. I suggested that Harm use the Freedom of Information Act to get the report filed by the US Air Force personnel who attempted the rescue on Christmas Eve, 1969. When the official report arrived it had been so heavily redacted that it left more questions than answers. That's when Harm began to formulate a plan to go into Vietnam himself."
"And you took it seriously?"
"Harm was a very serious young man. He was completely focused on gaining an appointment to the Naval Academy, so when his attention shifted to Vietnam, I took notice."
"How did you feel about the trip?"
"I wanted the entire issue resolved, once and for all. If there was the slimmest chance of uncovering information about Harm Senior I felt that the trip would be worth it."
"You're an amazing man, Frank."
"No, I'm just a man who loved his wife and his son. Our plan was to go to Thailand, which would put us much closer to Vietnam and allow us to hire investigators who were boots on the ground. Harm was 16, so it was impossible for him to travel abroad alone. I had traveled to Singapore and Hong Kong, and because I had a bit of experience in Asia it was decided that I would accompany him."
"Trish didn't go?"
"Trish refused to go, and lets leave it at that," Frank said firmly.
"I'm sorry."
"Harm contacted Gary Grissom, a member of Harm Senior's old squadron who had left the Navy to fly with Air America, which was the CIA's private airline. Gary put Harm in contact with Colonel Francis Stryker, who was investigating rumors of Americans still being held in Vietnam."
"I don't know Colonel Stryker, but Harm mentioned that Gary Grissom flew with his father on the Ticonderoga."
"Grissom is a good man, and unlike Tom Boone, Gary wasn't interested in marrying Trish."
"I'm sorry if I'm opening up some old wounds."
"Never mind about that. Colonel Stryker was a career army officer and part of SOG, the Study and Observations Group of the Army Special Forces, which served as the CIA's muscle in Vietnam. After American forces withdrew from Vietnam, Stryker remained in Saigon as the senior military advisor to CIA Head of Station Neville Webb, the father of your friend Clayton."
"Webb is an acquaintance. He is not a friend."
"No matter how you may feel about Clayton Webb, I'm sure he witnessed much of what lead up to the evacuation of Saigon. Gary Grissom co piloted the Air America helicopter which evacuated Neville Webb and Stryker out of Vietnam. Also on board was a South Vietnamese Air Force colonel who claimed to have information about American POWs still being held in Vietnam. The Colonel refused to divulge any information until he was living safely in the United States. Not long after Grissom's chopper landed on the Hornet, the Colonel was put on a US Navy flight to Guam, but the aircraft went down and was lost as sea."
The book! My god. How much did Webb really know about what went on in Vietnam before Harm and I left for Russia?
"Stryker maintained the colonel's POW claims were factual. After retiring from the army he began investigating on his own. Stryker knew how to gain entry into Vietnam through a network of guides, which routes to take, and which police to bribe. He was willing to return to Vietnam, and to take Harm with him."
"No doubt for a fee."
"Money was needed for airfare and to hire the guides, but Stryker didn't want a fee. Stryker was tight with Chuck DePalma, and it was agreed that if Harm discovered anything about his missing father, Chuck was to be given an exclusive to the story, including book and movie rights."
"A typical reporter."
"Chuck's arrangement was the least of our concerns. At that time visas for Vietnam were impossible for Americans to obtain. This meant Harm and Stryker would first have to cross from Thailand and then into Laos, which was still recovering from a civil war. The Pathet Lao government was not recognized by the United States, so once again, a visa was out of the question."
"It sounds risky," said Mac, who remembered the many risks that she and Harm had taken in Russia.
"More than I had imagined. If Harm and Stryker were apprehended inside Laos or Vietnam there would be no way to get them out." Frank bit his lower lip. "The night before we were set to leave for Thailand, Trish begged Harm not to go through with it. She was afraid he would disappear inside Vietnam, just like his father."
"She could have forbid Harm to make the trip."
"Trish has never denied Harm anything. Even so, she remained adamant that the entire trip be canceled."
"How did you feel?"
"I felt that Harm and I could better assess the situation in Thailand. This put a rift between Trish and myself, which even now remains a sore subject for both of us."
"I saw first hand how upset she became when I brought up the subject last night."
"Harm and I flew to Bangkok and met up with Stryker, who had arrived a week earlier and began setting things in motion. Crossing into Laos from Thailand at any known border checkpoint was out of the question, so we went by bus to Thoeng, a small northern city near the Laotian border which ran along the Phu Sang National Park. Stryker set me up in a local hotel in Thoeng which had a reliable telephone service. This was vital because there was no email back in those days and the primitive cell phones were useless."
"Did you still want Harm to go through with it?"
"No. By then I felt the entire plan seemed too dangerous to proceed with. I wanted Harm to back out, but he was committed. Before he and Stryker departed for Vietnam, Harm told me that if he wasn't back in 30 days that I should return home without him. Harm felt that if he wasn't back by then...he wouldn't be coming back at all."
"My god. For him it was all of nothing," said Mac.
"Once Harm and Stryker left, there wasn't a thing I could do except to go back to the room and phone Trish. I made a supreme effort to sound upbeat, but I doubted that I would see Harm again."
"Was there ever any contact?"
"I heard nothing for five days. Then a Thai man on a motor scooter pulled up in front of the hotel and asked for me by name. He held out a piece of paper and demanded $20, which I paid. The note read- 'Crossing to Vietnam. All is well. Love to Mom. Hammer'. Hammer had been Harm Senior's call sign, and it served as our prearranged code so that I'd know that the note was genuine."
"The message must have been a relief."
"It was short lived because I heard nothing more. Trish called twice a day, but there was nothing I could tell her. After three weeks had passed, I was deeply concerned. Harm had instructed me to go home after a month, but if he wasn't back by then I intended to go into Vietnam myself and look for him."
"You're not only a good man, Frank, you're a good father."
"On day 28, the hotel manager called me down to the lobby where a taxi driver was demanding $500. There was a man laying on the sofa who I barely recognized as being Harm. He'd lost 30 pounds, and he was skinny to begin with. I paid the taxi driver his money and then told the hotel manager to call a doctor. Harm had numerous insect bites and stings, and a nasty ulceration on the inside of his right leg. Harm had also acquired parasites from drinking contaminated water, and he was running a fever. He could barely walk so I helped him to our room."
"Was Harm taken to a hospital?"
"I wanted to move him to a hospital, but the doctor advised against it. The hospital would notify the police, which would only complicate matters. The doctor insisted that he could provide better treatment in the hotel room, and with no questions asked. He was true to his word because other than the parasites, Harm made a quick recovery."
"Did Harm and Stryker actually get into Vietnam?"
"Yes, they did. Their guide was a young Vietnamese woman named Bian, which means 'woman with secrets' in Vietnamese."
"Did they find the crash site?"
"They never got close to it. The terrain surrounding the crash site was far too rugged to approach. There was also a military outpost nearby, which Harm suspected might have been the base which launched the SAM that shot down his father."
The events of tape that Clay had given to Harm suddenly came together in Mac's mind.
"By then the Vietnamese police were aware of their presence, but thanks to Bian, they made it safely out of Vietnam and into Laos. Once they had crossed the border, Harm told Bian to go back to Vietnam, but she insisted on continuing with him. Their Laotian guides took them along a route which was riddled with opium fields. That was when they were jumped by bandits."
"What a nightmare."
"Harm and Stryker tried to bribe their way out of trouble by using the last of their money, but the bandits held out for more. That was when their Laotian guides turned on them. To show that they meant business, one of the guides shot Bian, who died at Harm's feet."
"Oh my god."
"That night, Harm managed slip out of his restraints. Harm was freeing Stryker when the same guard who shot Bian approached them. A struggle ensued. Harm strangled the first guard to death with a boot lace, while Striker killed the second with his bare hands." Frank looked at Mac. "For god sake Mac, Trish knows nothing about any of this."
"I swear that I'll never say a word," Mac vowed.
"Harm and Stryker escaped, but the bandits were hot on their trail. To make matters worse, the Laotian Army was also searching for them. When they reached the National Park they split up, with Stryker hoping to lead the bandits and the army away from Harm. It worked. Harm made it through the Park and then back into Thailand. He had no money, but he promised a taxi driver $500 if the driver would get him to our hotel in Thoeng. Five hundred dollars? I would have given everything I possessed to get my son back."
It did not escape Mac's attention that Frank considered Harm to be his own son.
"When Trish telephoned the hotel that night, Harm was exhausted, but he spoke to her. While leaving out the unspeakable details of the trip, Harm said that he hadn't discovered anything about his father. Trish then asked when we were coming home? Harm was in no condition to travel, so I told her that the two of us were having such a good time in Thailand we had decided to extend our trip for an additional two weeks. When we finally got home, Harm still looked ragged, but we explained it away as being caused by the parasites he'd picked up on our side trip."
Mac slowly shook her head. "That's an incredible story. If we were talking about anyone other than Harmon Rabb Junior, I wouldn't have believed a word of it."
"I sometimes can't believe it myself. The one good thing that happened was that Harm and I became much closer after the trip. It was the turning point in our relationship."
"Did Stryker escape from Laos?"
"When Harm and I arrived at home there was a card waiting for us postmarked from Hong Kong. 'That was one hell of a good time. Let me know when you want to go back to Vietnam. FS'."
"And Chuck DePalma? Did he get a story?"
"No. As far as I know, Harm didn't see Chuck again until 1995 when he and Kate Pike were in Naples and they were assigned to a murder investigation aboard the Seahawk."
Mac grimaced at the mention of Caitlin Pike, who had been Harm's first partner. Kate Pike was tall and slender, and she was very pretty. Kate was also a graduate of the Naval Academy and Harvard Law.
Kate Pike was the exact type of woman that Harm liked, and Mac could only imagine what went on between the two of them in Naples.
Did Harm invite Kate to La Jolla? Did the two of them sleep in the same bed? the same bed that I'm sleeping in...alone?
Mac was desperate to ask Frank those questions, but she decided against it.
"Mac, if Harm learned that I've told you what went on in Vietnam, and what he had to do while he was there...well, he would never speak to me again," Frank explained.
My god, this family has a lot of secrets.
"Frank, I swear that I will never say a word to anyone about this conversation."
Frank breathed a sigh of relief. "That's my girl. Now let's go and have our breakfast."
