Ah, I can see the e-mails now, the hate mail, the torches and pitchforks.
Then the sobbing, yup, lots of sobbing. ;)

That's your warning, but with it comes a silver lining, keep the faith, all
is not as bad as it seems.

Jackie

PART 10 – War Of The Angels

December 21, 2010
1745 Local
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

It was odd to sit in the conference room, a place that held so many memories, both good and bad. The place still smelled of leather and musty books, a scent that was almost as unique as the room itself. Mac's fingers gently brushed the oak table. How many evenings had she and Harm spent in here, alone, working on a case? In the beginning of their working partnership, each of them had seen more of that table than their own apartments. She smiled at a fond memory of a young Lieutenant Commander Rabb who kept staring at her, only to shy away when caught. He'd confessed once that he was trying to find the differences between her and Diane. Still, those looks gave away to ones that Mac could now categorize as ones of longing. There was a passion in his eyes that she didn't dare drown in. A passion that she'd often find herself returning when he wasn't looking. But, they'd always catch each other – always.

Professionalism was the only thing that stood in the way back then. The two of them were just too reluctant to give up their jobs for one another. Now, Mac often wondered if things would have remained status quo had they still been working together. Damn, that would have sucked. She thought to herself, sighing deeply.

The one thing that tended to tick her off was the fact that all of their friends kept on mentioning how they knew that they were right for each other. Friends who never bothered to really speak up. The only one who seemed to step up to the plate was Sturgis. And what did that get him? Nothing but rude remarks, and fine, maybe he was right about Harm and Mac sucking him into their problems, although, he tended to care too much and go willingly. Glancing up at the man, Mac wondered if it would have made a difference had she not told him to keep her statement about being "in love" with Harm a secret? It was doubtful that he would have said anything, but what if he had? What then?

Mac sighed again, shaking her head from the current reverie. Stop thinking "what ifs" MacKenzie! You're with Harm now, the road here doesn't really matter anymore. Yes, it did. Mac knew that it did.

"Something wrong, ma'am?" It was her fourth sigh in less than twenty minutes and although the work was tedious, Mac was never one to give into exhaustion.

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a pointed glare. "Sturgis, you and I were friends once. . .You don't have to call me ma'am. . .It's Mac unless something formal pops up."

Now it was Sturgis' turn to sigh. He'd been dreading the little talk about 'friendship' which he was sure would arrive at some point or another. Thankfully, she hadn't full out asked him about Harm. "Fine, Mac. . .Is something wrong?" His voice held all the condescension he'd felt for five years.

"Okay, that's it." Angrily, she chucked her pen towards the table and stood up so fast the chair crashed to the floor. "I am sick of this shit with you. . .If you want me to treat you like a subordinate I will, especially if it ends this animosity between us. . .Now, Commander, wanna have it out once and for all?"

Sturgis sat there, shocked and unable to look up at a woman he once considered his friend. "Ma'am, permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

Taking a breath, Sturgis raised his head. "I'm not the type to apologize for things, but I realize that the last two years you and Captain Rabb were at JAG Headquarters I wasn't very friendly." There, he'd said the one thing that had been bugging him for five years. . . Well, less than five years, the first couple of years, he thought he was right.

Slowly, Mac picked the chair off of the floor and slid back into it. So, this thing was going to play out like this? Good, this she could handle, a battle of words, her brain wasn't ready to run that way. "I know you were pissed off at me for not realizing what Harm had given up for me. . .I was a bitch, I know. . .I was just put. . .No, no excuses. . . I put myself in a situation and when it went out of control and threw me off kilter, it took some time for me to find myself again. . .I realize that this affected those around me and that includes you. . .I apologize for that, Sturgis. . .About Harm and I. . .the thing is, you never got both sides of the story."

He shook his head. "I never really got either side of the story. . .All I remember was going to Harm's place and finding him, half drunk, playing the blues on his guitar being as pissed off as can be. . .You were an easier target at the time. . .All of your 'I don't miss him' kinda things. . .It hurt. . .It was like. . like friends, to you, were expendable."

"It hurt me too." That tidbit broke her heart just a little. How could she ever say that she didn't miss him? "My friends. . .My good friends, you included, weren't, aren't and will never be expendable, Sturgis. . .As for Harm and I, during that mission with Webb things got sketchy and we both said things to each other that shouldn't have been said. . .Harm hurt me and I hurt him a hell of a lot more. . .See, he couldn't make up his mind about us and so, I decided to make it up for him only to find that it was a mistake." Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping that a slight bit of pain would stop those memories from flooding. "I'll admit, the time I chose to talk with him was pretty shitty."

"I know Rabb was and probably still is stubborn. . .What ticked me off was the fact that you pretended not to give a damn about him."

Pretended? Was there anyone who didn't see past her charade? It didn't help that she had a wide grin and was practically skipping into the office after she saw that footage on ZNN of Harm landing that C-130 on a carrier. "I was trying to fool myself and others that I didn't care. . .It didn't work for either party."

"I noticed." He grinned smugly at her, took his pen and continued to fill in notes on a legal pad.

Now, Mac knew it was her turn to take a real shot, a blow to chink Sturgis' armor. "What I don't understand is what happened between you and Harm. . .You two were best friends."

"He wasn't my best friend anymore. . .You were." Sturgis frowned.

Her brow rose in confusion. "You were jealous?"

"No, I just knew where things stood. . .I was the 'guy' friend." He said making quotation fingers. "The one he would go to when he needed 'guy' advice." He shrugged. "You were the go to girl. . .I mean, you probably know more about him than anyone on this planet. . .And I wasn't jealous, but. . .maybe a little intimidated." Glancing up, he smiled at her. "I also thought you two were together and that's a line that friends shouldn't cross. . .So I kept behind that line."

Mac chuckled. "Even when we told you we weren't together?"

"It took a while for me to realize you two really hadn't been together romantically. . .So, I did like everyone else: stood on the sidelines and watched."

She still didn't get where Sturgis was going and there was no way that work would continue until this was all hatched out. "So, it was me that made you have problems with Harm?"

No, his problems with Harm probably began right around the time of the Singer trial. "I think he was pretty peeved at all of us for staying away during his trial. I'm sure that had a part in him leaving and not staying in touch. . .Past that, I'm not sure. . .When he came back, I think he was pissed off that he wasn't JAG's golden boy anymore. . .I'm not saying that I was, but you know Chegwidden would have given Acting JAG to Harm if he didn't have so many hits on his record."

"You can't deny that you were a jerk, Sturgis." She flat out said, shaking her head. The good preacher's boy had turned into a power hungry jackass. "You tried to run such a tight ship that it. . .it made things unbearable."

He sighed deeply, when would they get it? "Mac, if the shoes were reversed and you were Acting JAG and I was asking for a big favor which you know, for a fact, bent a few too many rules of the Navy, what would you have done?"

She winced slightly. They had been rather voracious with the favors and asking for details on Webb's disappearance was a bit. . .low. Chegwidden certainly wouldn't have given them to her and if he had, it would be handed over with enough leach to hang herself. But she was desperate then, not so much because she actually loved Webb. More because she couldn't live with that void in her life. They'd shared something and she owed it to him to find the truth. "I guess we were, subconsciously trying to use you. . ."

"This was bigger than us, Mac. . . Chegwidden, THE JAG, resigned. . .I wasn't acting JAG for the weekend while the Admiral went on a fishing trip. . .This was different and I couldn't and wouldn't turn the other cheek. . .Not after the SECNAV tried to railroad us, not after the upheaval between staff members and certainly not because we were friends. . .It bothered me, okay. . .I wished. . .I wished I could have done more. . .I know Harm took certain things personal and I admit. . .between he and I. . .I tended to overcompensate because I knew the measures he'd go to get what he wanted. . .Even if it was something he wanted for you." There was one moment in time, that he should have been more lenient, but damnit, he was tired of having to bend backwards for the great Harmon Rabb. Still, his tactics were deplorable. As a friend, he should have done more. "The only one who could really accuse me of being a bad friend was Harm. . .I should have. . .could have looked into his investigation with the Hornet better. . .I hung him out to dry on purpose. . .I've spent the last few years praying that God and Harm could forgive me over that."

Mac understood. "It's not late to turn things around, you know? You two have been friends since Annapolis. . .That's not something that should be tossed away because of your egos. . .It means something." Her lips curled up in a smirk. "Not to mention, it would be fun to have you hanging around our house from time to time. . .I still remember all of those fun, staff, poker matches."

Sturgis completely caught that 'our house' statement. "Soooo, does that mean that you and Harm have. . .ah. . .figured it out?"

Her smile was infectious. "Oooh yea. . .Figured it out, worked it out. . .Did the deed." Mac did her best not to break out in hysterical laughter at the shocked look on Sturgis' face. "Actually, we've been living together for a little under half a year." Sometimes it was still unbelievable that Harm was hers.

"Took long enough, damnit. . .You two. . .You didn't end in good terms. . ." He recovered nicely.

"No, we didn't. . .And we didn't reunite in good terms either. .. I was still pissed at him and Harm was trying to get chummy. . .But, it's worked you know?. . .I feel so foolish because everyone seemed to know we were good together and we were. . .oblivious."

After placing the pen on top of the legal pad, Sturgis leaned into the chair and stretched. "Not to be nosy." He grinned, "But, what's going on? What was all that relationship advice from Cresswell? Trouble in paradise?"

"No." She sighed, trouble in paradise would be much better than this. . .not knowing. "I'm not supposed to go into details, but. . .Harm's. . .he's flying. . .It's classified. . .and not good."

The look in her eyes gave Mac completely away. It was more than 'not good', it was almost as if she were certain that he'd never return. "As a submariner I've been on many of those 'not good' missions, Mac. . .and I'm still here."

"This is different. . .The odds of us losing are higher. . .so are the stakes. . .I'm sorry, I can't get into more details."

Sturgis nodded. "I assume Harm filled you in when he left?"

"Yes, I technically have the clearance for it seeing as Vukovic was handling legal affairs for the squadron."

Okay, wait a minute and back up. Vukovic? "And what does Vukovic have to do with anything?" Was that creep still hanging around! One thing he couldn't stand was the way the kid would treat the women in JAG Ops. It was disgusting.

Mac rolled her eyes, then let out a deep breath. "He's on my staff. .. No I didn't want him there, but apparently he's buddy buddy with the new SECNAV and, like a bad rash, he's impossible to get rid of. . ."

She took a breath, then asked a question that had been nagging her since scuttlebutt ran rampant around the Navy. "Varese and you?"

Sturgis shook his head. It was inevitable that people would find out, hell, even THE JAG knew. "I found her with another guy. . .The guitar player and her apparently had a thing. . . I know my father would be upset, but I. . .I just can't forgive her."

The look of compassion in Mac's face was an odd but welcomed sight. Too bad it took him so long to realize he needed his friends. "I'm sorry. . .I really am."

"Thanks, Mac. . ." Trying to get back to work had become slightly impossible, not because of the conversation, but because of the one thing that had been nagging Sturgis Turner for five years. "Damnit. . .I want my friends back." The words came out rushed, but Mac heard him clearly. It was the first time she'd ever really seen Sturgis wearing his heart on his sleeve. "The last two years that we worked here I was an ass. . .I lost my closest friends because of it. . .I know 'I'm sorry' doesn't cut it. . .but, I am sorry."

Mac rested against the back of her chair and folded her arms across her chest. She studied the man for the third time today. He was different. Maybe they all were? Maybe time is all they needed to mend fences and pull up new ones. "I'll forgive you under one condition. . .Forgive me for trying to use you because you were my friend."

Grinning, Sturgis stood up, reached across the table and offered Mac his hand. "Deal." The two shook on it and though everything wasn't back to normal, one friendship was renewed.

December 23, 2010
2152 Zulu
USS Patrick Henry
Location Undisclosed.

"I still can't talk you out of this, huh?. . .Stay safe, Hammer." Sitting in the open cockpit, Harm and Skates were waiting to be shot off of the carrier. In his head, Harm kept replaying the conversation he had with Keeter the previous night. It was clear that his friend knew this was a suicide mission, that the chances of heading home were close to nil. And still, he had to do it. He had to.

Flashback – The night before.

Harm was laughing, something that not many pilots onboard the Henry were doing anymore. There wasn't anything cheerful about the situation. Tension had made the quals intensely difficult and many had been booted off of the squadron resulting in a total of six Tomcat teams. Harm was the squadron leader, a title given to him for two reasons – his skills and a JAG lawyer with a chip on his shoulder, Vukovic, who did everything possible to make sure Harm would go up. He typed a response to Mac, over Messenger, wishing that he could hear her voice.

"Chatting with Mac, are ya?" Keeter asked from his bunk, sometimes missing that 'lil woman' in his life. Women, for him, were just for fun, the types to have in every port but never come home to. Jack Keeter had forever resigned to the fact that if the Navy didn't issue him a wife, he didn't need one. "Don't deny it, you have this shit eating grin."

Turning slowly, Harm glared at his friend. "So? I have a girl. You'd have one too if you'd ever get over Penny Benjamin dumping you our third year."

"Penny Benjamin, hah!" Truth was, the girl had ripped his heart out, totally. And, alright, he'd admit it to himself, he never wanted to feel that way again. "I was the one that dumped her and don't you forget it."

"Whatever Keeter." Harm chuckled. "Mac says 'hi', by the way."

"Hi back." His tone was flat, unemotional and not even slightly jovial. "You're a fucking idiot, Rabb, you know that?"

Turning to Keeter once again, Harm shot him an alarming look. "Excuse me?"

"Yea, you heard me, you're a fucking idiot. . .You have this beautiful woman waiting at home and you're here. . .Screw duty or any other crap the Navy put in your head. You're a reservist. . .You don't even have to be a reservist, but it's like. .. you're a damned adrenaline junkie who won't give up the fix even for the girl he loves."

His eyebrows raised just shy of his hairline. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Mac, Harm. . .You can die out there. . . Chances are you will die out there and you're just willing to do it."

"Gee, thanks for the ego boost, Jack. . .Remind me not to listen to your pep talks in the ready room."

Keeter tossed his legs over the side and came to his feet. "I'm not joking, Harm. . .You're a good friend and normally, this is where I'd want you to be. . .You're one of the best, if not the best. . .But, this is one that you should have stepped down from . . . This isn't about you anymore."

Harm shook his head in confusion. No matter how difficult the fight, Keeter wasn't one to ever throw in the towel. "What the hell happened to you?. . .Damnit, Keeter, you've never backed away from a fight. . .never. . .Not even in Annapolis, when that jackoff, Middie, Stephenson was threatening to beat me into a pulp. . .You were always the first one in our corner, egging us on."

His friend was clearly not the same as before. But it wasn't being CAG that had changed him, at least, not the position itself, but rather an occurrence because of his powerful spot. Bowing his head, Keeter leaned into the hatch and sighed nervously. "I've had to speak to two of the wives and one of the girlfriends for the guys that died. . .The skipper's been too busy and. . .I volunteered. I figured that I was tougher, I wasn't attached to anyone so this would be easy. . ." But, when the first call went the way that it had, Jack Keeter changed – the armor was exposed. "It wasn't easy. . .How the hell do you call a newlywed and tell her that her husband, which she didn't even get a chance to honeymoon with, is dead. . .And that it's your fault because you sent him up there?"

Now Harm understood the insistence of Keeter's askance. As a lawyer, one was trained to often be the bearer of bad news. He couldn't count the times that he and Mac were present when someone was informed about a loved one's passing. "I know it's hard, Jack. . . Damnit, I still remember when I was five and they came to tell my mom about dad."

"I didn't know those guys' girls, Harm. . .But, I know Mac." He couldn't imagine hearing her cry to him, damnit it was enough that he'd spent several days with her in the desert talking about her adventures with Harm. That light in her eyes when she spoke about him. . .The way she blushed when a particular memory came to mind. The woman even said his name in her dreams. "Mac's been in love with you forever and you pick this time to figure it out? You have got to be the most dense man on this planet. . .And then above it all, above all of the grief you two had put yourselves through, you go and get yourself into this war. . ."

"Jack, this isn't your fault. . .It isn't any of our fault. . .I stayed as a reservist because I knew my skills were needed and I do not regret it. . .If anything, I would regret not being here and chickening away from something I could change."

Keeter pushed off of the hatch, coming dangerously close to his friend. "You aren't Superman! That Tomcat out there isn't bullet proof!. . ." He took a breath and then stumbled back to the edge of his bunk. "I don't want to call Mac and tell her that you're gone. . .I don't want to. . .I can't."

"Have a little faith. . .Nothing is going to happen."

End Flashback.

"Have a little faith. . .Nothing is going to happen." From the back seat, he heard Skates say the words that had become a mantra for the last few days.

The sun was baking them from high above making the temperature rise to a nice, scorching one hundred and seven degrees on the deck. Thankfully, the light breeze kept some of the heat at bay. "You know, the worst is this waiting. . .This sucks. . .What are they waiting for?" It wasn't any fun strapped onto a zillion dollar aircraft if you couldn't fly the damned thing!

Skates shrugged. "Maybe they're waiting for that pencil neck Washington Weenie to review our records again." She was referring to Vukovic, a man who she really didn't like, for good reason. "He got under my skin yesterday, Hammer."

"What the hell did he do now?" Will they ever stop hearing about the younger officer's antics?

"He kept pestering me about you and I flying. . .Apparently he found out about that little trip we took the night of the Colonel's wed . . .I mean, May 2001."

Harm chuckled. "It's alright, Skates, Mac and I have talked in great lengths about that night. . ."

"Yea, but still, sir. . .No reason to bring it up." She cringed visibly, the woman was marrying another man back then. The idea made her cringe. "Anyway, he wanted to know how you were found. . .Seems like the records say that the Viking was searching for you somewhere else after they found me."

Alright, so that was a slight bit odd. There was nothing in those transcripts of interest, just normal SAR procedures and a crazy environment with an overly zealous Skipper. True, they had been searching in one area and practically headed the opposite way on a hunch. Ingles had broken quite a few protocols to test the hunch and wound up a hero along with the SAR crew for their tenacity. But when news spread from the bridge to other areas of the carrier about the 'miracle rescue,' Mac too was a hero. "I thought everyone knew that she found me."

"Hammer, that happened like an eon ago."

He laughed with earnest. "An eon? Damn, Skates, am I really that old?"

Using the mirror, she peaked at him and winked. "No sir! From where I am sitting, I am thinking that the Colonel is one damn lucky woman."

Harm shook his head, the real lucky person was him.

Any other discussion about Vic was over as orders to move the Tomcat towards the catapult's shuttle came over the airwaves. "Roger that."

Leaning near the hatch which led into the island, one man in working khakis stood wearing a survival vest, goggles and cranial as required by those working on the flight deck. From his vantage point he could see a young man in a brown shirt, plane captain, Airman Vincent "Vinnie" Arjan who was standing by waiting for Harm's plane to launch. He waved the Airman over, grinning when the younger man sprinted across the deck. "Did you do it?" He yelled over the regular noises as one plane shot off the number four catapult.

Vinnie's head was cast down, what he had done was treasonous at best and he knew it. Captain Rabb seemed like a nice guy, so did the RIO, which is why it twisted the knife into his back just a little bit more. "Yes, Commander. . .I made sure that the ejec. . ."

Vukovic raised his hand to stop the flow of information. "I don't need to know the details." No, the less he knew, the better, it would make it more difficult to incriminate him. Not that he would be incriminated, if things went as planned, they wouldn't have to worry about a plane shooting the Tomcat out of the sky. It would fall all on its own. "You're doing a good thing, Airman."

"Then why do I feel like shit, sir?"

A day earlier, Vuckovic was sitting at his desk in the JAG office, waiting for something to happen. It wasn't enough that Rabb was going up, as suicidal as the missions supposedly was, it wasn't suicidal enough for him. So he decided to take measures into his own hands. Dawning a pair of workout clothes, he headed down to the hangar and made good use of the exercise equipment all the while watching Airman Arjan with his friends. It was nearly an hour later, when Vinnie headed towards the Tomcat, tool kit in hand. Vukovic followed without anyone wondering much about his actions – people were just too tense to care. There he struck a bargain of sorts – some would say it was more like blackmail. The details of the 'bargain' were sketchy at best, but it involved the words 'Leavenworth', 'hard labor' and 'life imprisonment.' Those were words that Airman Arjan didn't like in the same context. "I haven't done a thing, sir." He'd insisted.

"I find that very hard to believe. No one is clean, Vinnie. We all have skeletons in our closet. . .I just have to push the right buttons to find yours. . .And if I can't, hell, I can just. . .make it up." He'd said with a flourish.

The Airman was normally cool, collected and much older beyond his years. He was a good kid, wanted to be a pilot someday and fly the planes he'd worked on for so long. He wanted to be the future of the Navy, a future that wouldn't look too good behind Leavenworth's bars. So, he gave in, with a heavy heart and unshed tears. "What do you want me to do?"

Vukovic didn't give the kid any real details, just explained that Rabb was not to make it back on board. The rest, was history. "You feel like shit because you don't realize this is for the greater good."

"Who's greater good, sir? Certainly not the Navy's. Definitely not Captain Rabb's nor Commander Hawkes'" He glanced towards Harm's plane as the JBD rose behind the F-14. It was his last chance to prevent the plane's take off. His last chance to save two lives and maybe even more. His body shifted slightly and Arjan felt Vic's hand wrap around his bicep.

"Don't you dare, Arjan. . .I swear to God, if you make a peep, I'll kill you." It was the first actual threat towards the young man's life. One that didn't involve blackmail of any kind. The sounds of the engines coming to life meant that time was over. "Game over." Playfully, he knocked on Arjan's cranial helmet, then stepped into the island.

Inside the Tomcat, Harm took one final look at Mac's picture, then turned to salute the flight crew. "Here we go." Seconds later, the plane cut through the steam simmering out of the catapult and shot off the deck hurling the team into the blue skies. The adrenaline was rushing through Harm's veins as he pushed the plane skyward.

He brought the plane up to about fifteen thousand feet along with his wingman, Commander Scott "Clipper" Dodson and RIO Commander Jansen "Tex" Lutheran. "Wonderland this is Ripper Two-Five-Niner, waiting for further instructions."

"Roger, Ripper Two-Five-Niner, bank four five degrees West." The air traffic control said over the radio.

Harm and Clipper made the corrections and were soon heading super sonic towards the unknown. "Hey Hammer, it's getting rather dark along these parts. . . Tex sees a nasty cell heading our way."

Skates switched to Doppler and frowned. "I see it too, Hammer. . .five minutes West of us. . .I'll let the tower know. Wonderland this is Ripper Two-Five-Niner, Doppler is showing a nasty storm cell just West of us, copy." The connection from the carrier came back scratchy and unrecognizable. "Breaking up Wonderland, say again." Not a single sound came through the line save for a low pitched shrill that nearly made both pilots and RIOs want to cover their ears.

"What the hell is that?" Harm said, shaking off a sudden wave of vertigo induced by the continuing noise.

Clipper groaned. "Dunno, but it's. . .damn, Hammer, my head."

Harm could feel it too, it was almost like blacking out but not quite getting there. His head felt as if it were swelling so big that it could no longer fit inside the helmet. "I feel it too, Clipper. . .I think we should go back."

Skates was desperately trying to find a new frequency to, somehow, cut the noise. Her only option was to go completely silent and if that happened, she wouldn't be able to contact Harm. "I can't get Wonderland on any frequency. . .Damnit!" Frustrated, she was tempted to slam her fist against the controls. "Clipper, we have to turn back, maybe if we get closer to the Island we'll be alright."

Having suffered countless concussions, Harm was able to take the pressure much longer. Clipper, on the other hand, wasn't handling it too well. "Where are we?" They heard him say over the line and from their vantage point, both Harm and Skates could see the man swinging his head wildly, probably trying to get reoriented. "Hello?"

"Shit, Harm. . .Tex, can you take over the controls?" She pushed a hand against the canopy, staring over towards their wingman.

Tex's voice came in the form of a low groan. "Can't. . .I'm not doing too good. . ." He tapped Clipper's shoulder roughly. "Clip, c'mon man. . .SNAP OUT OF IT."

The internal battle for control had Harm shaking. From inside his mask he could feel an iron smelling, warm liquid dripping out of his nose. "Clipper, follow me." He swung the F-14 in front of his wingman and waited a few seconds for Clipper to respond. "Clip, follow me home."

"Yea. . .Yea. . ." The man seemed to snap out of it long enough for the F-14s to turn back around towards the carrier. "Damnit, this noise. . .I can't hold out much longer."

"TRY damnit." Harm yelled, he swallowed down the bile that rose up his throat. "Skates, how far are we?"

Skates punched the numbers on the radar and sighed. "Three minutes out. . .Can you land though?"

"We're gonna see, aren't we?" He glanced out of the canopy, spotting Clipper flying just next to him. "Clip, are you oriented enough to land?"

Clipper turned to look out at Harm's plane and gave him the thumbs up. "I sure as hell am going to. . ." The sentence was cut off as two, sleek black objects zoomed past the Tomcats. "Shit!"

It was at that moment that the low pitched noise cut off and the airwaves were free again. "Skates?"

"Already on them. . ." She was working on the computers as fast as possible, trying to get more information from the carrier and the planes that had just zoomed past them. "Wonderland, this is Ripper Two-Five-Niner, hostiles in the area, do you copy?" Nothing. Only static over the line. "Shit, Harm. . ."

"You were a JAG, Hammer. . .What's the protocol." Tex asked.

Harm sighed, the rules of engagement were clear, never fire until fired upon. That was nice when he was on the ground, but sitting on a hunk of flying metal. . . "If they buzz us again, shoot to kill." As he said that the onboard computer alarm went off signifying that something had a lock on. "Shit. . .Clipper on my mark break hard right. . .Three, two. . .mark!" The planes broke apart, Clipper going right, Harm going left. He dipped the plane downwards and then upwards again, the maneuver bringing him right smack behind the black jet. "It's a MIG 25."

Skates stared up at the aircraft with great wonder. With all her time in the Navy, the only plane she'd ever went head to head with were those in training. "Jesus Christ. Hammer, is it too late to ask if you've done this before?"

Maybe it was the way she asked, or maybe it was the question itself, but Harm had to laugh. "Operation Desert Storm, Skates." He got on his controls putting the radar lock into good use. "Let's try to bug him out." As he tried to get tone, the Tomcat suddenly dropped altitude. "Woah!"

"What the? Hammer?" Skates hung on for dear life, her already shaken head not able to take many more sudden movements. "Hammer!"

The plane was as unresponsive as could be, all attempts to bring it back up were failing. "Shit! Skates. . .Controls aren't working. . .Switching to manual." He pressed several buttons and let out a deep breath as he managed to semi-stabilize the aircraft.

"That's better, but we're still falling. . ."

Heavy static came over the airwaves again and a frantic yelling of sorts. "Ham-mer. . .MIG. . .six."

Turning to look backwards, Skates could see Clipper's aircraft about to shoot over them, on his tail was another MIG. "Harm! Clipper's in trouble."

So are we! Harm thought as he pulled up on the stick sending the plane in an erratic movement upwards, the plane was once again responsive. "I have control!" The sound of a massive blast brought both pilot and RIO to look portside. "Oh God. . .Clip. . .Tex." From behind the fireball a black object was sailing the skies victoriously. "Jesus. . .Skates do you see chutes?"

Skates squinted, trying to pin point what Harm was looking for. "Yes! Two. . ." A sudden "ratt-ta-tatt" sound resonated within their own aircraft. "Shit! We're being fired upon!"

"Over my dead body are they bringing us down, Skates." He said a silent prayer, glanced at Mac's picture and shoved his body slightly forward. The plane flew straight up, banked hard left, the rolled up behind on of the MIGs. Almost immediately, the Tomcat had tone. "Take this you bastard." He launched two missiles, the first one hitting seconds later, sending the plane into oblivion. "Woah! Got one. . .where's two?"

Skates turned around. "Coming in behind us, fast and furious. . .Slow down and on my mark, break hard left."

"Roger that." He waited patiently, keeping the Tomcat as straight as possible. The speed was coming down slowly and not too soon, he heard Skate's command and sent the plane banking left. "Where is he Skates?"

She glanced all over, trying to find the aircraft that seemed to just disappear. The sounds of bullets permeating the Tomcat left her slightly rattled. "Son of a bitch! Engine 1 has been hit!"

"Shut it down." He waited for the engine's termination and swallowed hard. If flying the plane was impossible before, this would be hell. "Skates, I see the ship, I'm going to fly away from it, I don't want this son of a bitch heading towards it. . .Start ejection procedures. . .I can't keep this up anymore." He was covered in sweat, almost as if a bucket of water had been poured over him. The liquid was burning his eyes, making it difficult to see.

"Already there." She said, knowing that they wouldn't have a chance in hell to bring the plane home in one piece. "Try to keep her up as long as possible."

The MIG flew over them, turning to the right and coming around for another shot. "Hurry!"

"Done. . .Lock shoulder harness."

"Shoulder harness locked."

"Visor down."

"Visor down." He repeated, bringing the dark shield over his eyes. "Masks already on."

Skates quickly made the sign of the cross and sent off a small prayer that she would get back home to her husband. "I'll see you down there, sir."

"Eject now!" Harm yelled, praying that this time his seat would follow hers just seconds later. The canopy blew and a hard rocking confirmed that Skates' seat had ejected. He took a final glance at Mac's picture. Two seconds later, he realized he was staring at it just a second too long. "No! Not again!" The computers on the aircraft were going completely haywire, a loud shrill beaming above all others signified that the MIG had a lock on. "Eject! Goddamnit, eject you piece of shit!" He pulled the manual ejection handle, but it would not budge. "No!. . .No!" He tried again, frantically pulling. "Jesus Christ. . .please!"

On the bridge, nearly everyone was assembled watching as a black jet followed one of their own. With binoculars they'd seen the canopy blow and a tiny blast of an ejector seat followed by the welcomed sight of a parachute. "One chute, sir!" The XO yelled, patting the Airboss on the back. The moment was tense, too tense. It shouldn't have taken that long for the other seat to fire. Seconds later, there was a huge fireball, too huge, and both Tomcat and MIG disappeared.

Captain Loftness was also watching, cautiously optimistic that both pilot and RIO would be safe. "Did anyone see another chute?" No answer. "Damnit, did anyone see another chute!" He yelled, turning to the group who stared at him with blank faces.

The Airboss shook his head. "No sir."

From his perch just next to Loftness, Lieutenant Commander Gregory Vukovic bit back a smile. There was no doubt in his mind that Captain Harmon Rabb Jr. was dead.