Moving right along. After Part 16 the updates might slow down, I've had a headcold for a week and my writing is taking the backseat. I can't seem to formulate a sentence past "Mac is sad." Somehow, good writing that does not make. ;)

Thank you for all of the feedback gang! I try to get back to all of you!
Jackie

PART 15 – The Mission

December 29, 2010
2145 Zulu
50 Miles away from the USS Patrick Henry
Location Undisclosed

Sounds, all disembodied and unrecognizable, had brought her back from what felt like a drug induced coma. Opening her eyes was a big mistake as a flash of pain made them shut closed again. Amidst the fogginess in her brain, once Mac managed to prop one eye open, she could make out a figure. The person looming over her was definitely male, with dark, cropped hair. He was obviously worried about her, if his hand in hers was any indication. There was something in the tenderness of the moment and although the touch was not familiar, for a brief second, Mac hoped. Could it be? "Harm?"

The man squeezed her hand tighter, almost painfully. It wasn't the answer he was looking for. "No, Mac, it's Greg. . .ah, Vic." He placed one hand on her forehead, the other was still entwined with her own. "You scared the hell out of us."

The temptation to ask him what had occurred was overwhelming. And then, like a flash, the movie was playing behind her closed lids. She was arguing a point with Vukovic and, seconds later, she'd found Harm. "Oh God!" She made to sit up, annoyed when the man pushed her back down onto a cot. "Do that again and I'll break your arm, Vukovic." She shoved him off of her, swung her legs over the side of the cot and quickly thought twice of that move. "Woah." The room spun several times before it fell back into place. She was grateful, only momentarily, that Vic had reached a hand out to steady her.

"Ma'am, you're in no condition to go anywhere. . .The doctor has asked me to stay by your side." Actually, the doctor had asked him, repeatedly, to leave, but Vic outranked the whole medical staff. "You're going to hurt yourself, Colonel!" He finally said, in a voice that no junior officer should use around their superiors.

If she'd been in better shape, Mac would've probably decked him there, once and for all. Instead, she shoved him away from her, causing Vukovic to fall back on a small table. He rammed into it and spilled all of the contents onto the floor. "Clean that up. That's an order." She said, and continued on her way as best as she could, using the bulkheads and even the stairwells to steady herself. Mac needed to see the Captain, ASAP! This was a life and death situation. She only hoped Loftness didn't think she'd lost her mind. Needless to say, he wasn't happy to see her on his bridge looking like hell.

"You need some more rack time, Colonel. What's so important that it can't wait?" Truthfully, he was happy that she was well, the last thing he needed was another problem with a JAG officer on his watch. "Well, Colonel?"

Mac took a deep breath, hoping this man wasn't a skeptic. "I know where Captain Rabb is, Skipper."

That brought operations in the bridge to a near-halt. The XO and three of the sailors turned to her with a mixture of disdain, anger and confusion. Loftness himself wasn't sure he heard correctly. "Captain Rabb?" Maybe it was that look of desperation, but something made Loftness want to believe her. "Show me." He pulled a map down and handed it to her.

"No arguments?" That was certainly a first.

"I was here last time, remember?" He only hoped that his people didn't think he was completely insane. "Please." He pointed at the map, then stepped back to allow access to it. Noticing that the hustle on the bridge had come to a halt, he glanced at his crew. "Back to work, that's an order!"

All was still not right with Mac. For some reason her leg hurt and her head, it was woozy, out of it. The map in front of her seemed to cross, the coordinates becoming a haze. C'mon MacKenzie! She ordered herself, holding tightly to the sides of the paper, hoping that it would come to her again. It had to come to her again. He was alive. He. . . Closing her eyes, the images were clear, playing like a movie in full color. An army. An island. Harm, he was hurt, he needed her help. Out of their own volition, her eyes wandered to a point on the map. Her finger pointed at a spot, its tip feeling a warm energy. It was the same feeling she had when Harm had gone down in 2001. "There."

"You're certain?" Loftness stared at her seriously. Sending people out on a wild goose chase was expensive and could lead to problems if they were really needed. "I need you to be sure of this, Colonel."

"I am!" She yelled, then sighed and shook her head. "I am. . .And it's an island. . .Un-chartered, but it's there. . . I know it is."

No one was too keen on the idea of searching for a man who was probably dead already. "Skipper, wasting our men to find someone who's probably dead by now." The XO pointed out. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I realize Captain Rabb must have meant a lot to you but it's. . .this is crazy."

"That's enough!. . ..XO, get Washington on the horn, tell them I need an aerial photograph and I need it yesterday." He gave Mac a half smile and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Get some rack time in, we'll call you up if we find something."

Mac shook her head. "Skipper, if. . .if there is something out there, I want to go. . ."

"You're making my life very difficult, Colonel." He pointed out. As much as he wanted to help there were areas where he crossed the line. "I need you to stay here and finish the interview with Vukovic. . .I promise, IF he is out there, you'll know. But, I can't let you tag along."

Vic was leaning against the bulkhead just outside the bridge, listening to the conversation. He'd finally managed to sneak away from his personal bodyguard, enough to hear what the commotion was all about. "Rabb can't be alive." He whispered. "He can't." Angrily, he slammed his fist into the bulkhead, feeling the bones in his hand crack. "Argh!" That had done it, he'd finally lost control. How the hell was he going to explain this one? He wondered as he weaved his way down to the doctor.

Negotiating with a Marine was usually an insurmountable task. Oddly enough, the Colonel had surrendered without argument. "Fine. . .But I want to be notified when he's found. I want to wait for him in sick bay."

Loftness was not sure what to make of this white flag Mac was raising. If anything, she'd been rumored to be a ball buster, the type that would even argue about the color of the sky. He didn't question it, but a good CO knew when something was up. "I won't be able to stop you, will I?"

He grin was infectious. "No, Skipper. . .I'm willing to risk it all."

"Get some rack time, you'll be called up to the bridge once we know something."

Nearly an hour later, the XO presented the black and white images to Loftness, then pointed to a spot right in the middle. "Skipper, the aerials have arrived. . .I don't know how we've never seen it before, but it's there. . .It's an island. . .the Colonel was right. Also, sir, Admiral Klein is on the horn."

Loftness took the call. It wasn't surprising in the least to have the higher ups contacting his ship. They needed authorization. However, he was shocked to find that all red tape had been lifted. According to the Admiral, the island didn't belong to any nation sovereign or otherwise. The reason for its lack of discovery was due to its two mile diameter and the lack of transportation which passed over that area. It was the perfect hide out. "Sir, I realize this is going to take some time to put together. Once we do, I would like to have video meeting so we can all be on the same page."

("Agreed, Captain. . .I shall contact you in no less than two hours. . .We'll see what else we can find out.")

December 30, 2010
0010 Zulu
Location Unknown

"Mack? Mack, can you hear me?" Connor shook his head as he watched his wife carefully, she was trying so hard to wake their new friend. His unconsciousness didn't bode well, neither was the eerie color of his leg.

Tenderly, he placed his hands on either side of Ella. "Love, I think he's too far gone."

"This isn't fair!" The situation wasn't fair and neither was the fact that they'd managed to injure this man, Inadvertedly, but they had. "This is our fault, Connor. . .We helped them build those machines. . .If he dies. . .it's on our conscience!"

"Sarah." The man had never ceased mentioning the woman's name. It had made him increasingly irritable, the trauma of not remembering and yet, having vivid dreams of the woman had made Mack crazy. His leg was on fire, one that wouldn't go out, but he was waking up, glancing to Ella with hopes that she was the one he was dreaming of. "Sarah?"

Ella glanced at Connor, then back at Harm. "No. . .It's Ella. Did you dream of Sarah again, Mack?"

The man nodded, the dreams were becoming increasingly painful and distorted. "She was hurt. . .Tortured, I think. . .She kissed another man." It was difficult to decipher what he'd seen behind closed eyes. There were images, yes, but none that made sense. First, this Sarah person was pregnant, strapped to some sort of torture device. Next, he felt his bare hands cracking the necks of other men – men with weapons. Finally, the last scene was the one that had tormented him the most: Sarah was still pregnant and kissing another man who sat inside a red Jeep. "I'm in so much pain." He ground out, curling into fetal position in hopes of stopping the onslaught.

"I think it was better when he was unconscious." Connor said, wishing he could put the man out of some pain. The feeling of helplessness that had creeped in hadn't stopped. As much as they'd helped Mack, there were some things they couldn't do for the man. "Mack, you have to hold on. . .You can't die out here, mate." But, what was the point in living, day in, day out, on a beautiful island which was, basically, just a giant jail cell? No one was going to find them, the years had proven that over and over. The few planes that had passed over the area flew so high that they wouldn't been seen. And ships? They were unheard of.

Still, the pair lived with an undeniable hope for all wrongs to be righted. Though hope had dwindled during the years, faith was a difficult thing to break. "He's right, Mack. . .You need to hold on." Ella slipped her hand into her husband's, holding back the tears. She couldn't help but blame herself.

0120 Zulu
USS Patrick Henry
Location Unknown

It had taken a little longer than originally planned to secure everyone needed for the meeting. The Captain called Keeter, the Airboss, the XO, Mac and the Marine commanding officer, a tall, imposing African American, Second Lieutenant Scott Fields into the ready room where a video was patched to Washington. "The connection is terrible, please keep questions to the bare essentials, boys." After getting a stern look from Mac, Loftness clarified. "And girls. . .Since Commander Vukovic, our onboard JAG is being investigated, I've asked his CO, Colonel MacKenzie, to sit in." He flipped on the video device and it was immediately connected to Admiral Klein and a staff of about three other officers from different military branches. "Admiral, Sir. . .We are ready to begin."

The Admiral, though polished and strong looking, always seemed to suffer from insomnia. The dark circles under his eyes were a testament to the amount of time he spent making sure things worked. "I realize our connection is shotty today, so forget introductions and let's get to work. . .According to what we've found, there's a base on that island, with a hidden runway. . . There is also a small hangar with four planes inside." Mac and Keeter exchanged a look which seemed to pass on to those in the ready room. "We used the Aurora to check things out for us. It's clear from the markings that the runway is active. . .On the lower right side, you can see the marks from landings." He took a sip of water and sighed. "There's also an active base adjacent to the runway. . . An infrared scan gave us an idea of how many personnel they had. . .We can take them with a light contingency of Marines."

Mac was starting to panic. That wasn't where they were holding Harm. "Was there anything else on the island, Admiral?" She asked, feeling the lump at her throat starting to grow from the anticipation. Please! Oh, please!

"Yes, Colonel. . .There was some. . .sort of hut. Infrared scanning reported that there are three persons located inside. . .However, if any of our boys are alive, I think they are being kept on the base. . .But, I still want two Marines to check out that hut. . .We're sending you any information we were able to pick up. . .From here on out, it's your mission, understood?" The group agreed and as soon as the conversation was over, plans were in effect.

The plans that Washington had sent were sketchy, but something that Second Lieutenant Fields could handle, he'd been through worse. "I really wish we'd have an LHA with all of its toys for this, but the CRRC will do." He said with a sigh, glancing up at Loftness who just shrugged. "We'll be fine, sir."

"Do you have room for one more?" Mac bravely asked, knowing full well that they really couldn't say no to an officer of her superiority. They might not like it, but she was going to tag along.

Fields glanced between Loftness and Mac. "Respectfully, ma'am, I'd prefer it if you stayed behind. . .My team works well as is. . .adding someone else. . . However, it's the Skipper's call and yours. . .If you say you go, I won't argue, but I won't put you in the front lines either and you must do as I say."

"I'll go put on my cammies then." She grinned.

Keeter wrapped a hand around her bicep before she left the ready room. "You're serious?"

"As a heart attack. . .Harm's out there and I am going to make sure he comes home." She saw Jack begin to complain, to whip up some reason as to why this was foolish. "Jack." She whispered, "I can't prove it yet, but I believe Airman Arjan tampered with Harm's plane because Vukovic either ordered him to or blackmailed him to. . .God knows who else is in his pocket. . .At least I know he can't get to me." She shoved her arm out of his grasp and then disappeared into the bowels of the ship.

In sickbay, Vukovic sat with a look of disgust as the doctor wrapped his hand. "You broke one finger, Commander." The man said, slightly irritated at the turn of events. "You could have broken your whole hand."

Vic sighed. "Could you just wrap it up, already?"

"Why? Hot date you're going to be late for?" The doctor joked, then nodded to the Marine at the doorway. "I don't think she'll like your body guard." As much as Vic hated to admit it, his little impromptu attack on the bulkhead was the method in which his guard found him. As he was still being investigated, the Captain ordered the Marine to follow the man everywhere. Marines were as tenacious as bulldogs.

It was extremely surprising to find Mac stepping into sickbay wearing her BDUs. "Doc, I need a first aid kit if you have one." She raised an eyebrow at Vukovic and motioned to his hand. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not, ma'am. . .Ah, are you going somewhere?" There was no reason for her to wear cammies on this cruise. "You look like you're heading off to do PT or something, ma'am."

Mac grinned knowingly at him. "Or something." She took the kit from one of the nurses, thanked them and was on her way.

"Doc, I need you to finish up. . .It's important." He had a call to make and quickly. If what he thought was happening went down and Rabb was alive, this could put a major damper on things. Vic needed to stop Mac and the only way he could do it is with the help of the SECNAV. "Nurse, get me on the horn to the Secretary of Navy and do it NOW, that's an order." Reluctantly, the woman glanced between Vic and the doctor. "Damnit, if you don't do that NOW I swear to God, I'll take everything from you. . .Your rank, your pension, everything." It was amazing how well threats worked. A minute later he was standing at the public phones, placing his hand over the receiver so he wouldn't be heard. "Madam SECRETARY, this is Lieutenant Commander Vukovic. . .We have a problem."

December 30, 2010
0320 Zulu
Location Unknown

Former Navy Seal David Cage hadn't had a good night's sleep since he'd agreed to help fund Neroli. While their idea had been genuinely about the greater good, shooting US pilots out of the sky was not something he signed on for. The idea was to start a group that protected the people of The United States against a regime that was turning their freedom into some sort of prison. They were revolutionaries, freedom fighters who strived to take over the power in the US and change it for the greater good. Since their inception, there had been nothing but bloodshed, narcotics and dirty money – things that made them profit.

The group consisted of thirteen men, all former service members, who had become lucrative business owners both in the USA and abroad. They had been forming an alliance for the last ten years, waiting for the right moment to strike. Somewhere along the way it stopped being about the people and became about punishment for a corrupt government. "If they can kill those innocents from other countries, we can kill them." Their leader, retired Army General Charles Hensley had said once, and since then mayhem ensued.

Cage had lost count of the planes which they'd shot down in the last year. So much for the greater good, from freedom fighters they'd turned into common terrorists. Walking through the base, he saluted two of the young recruits they'd managed to scoop up due to military separation. One of them he'd managed to get out of Leavenworth. The nineteen year old, a former Marine, had been accused of stealing from the commissary. The other man, a twenty one year old Army PFC, had filed a grievance due to harassment over his sexual preference.

That was the nature of their soldiers – people with a reason not to favor Uncle Sam's side. All of them were young, under twenty five, and extremely impressionable. Some just wanted to have fun and 'blow up shit.' It was every boy's wet dream. Everyone wore black BDUs with the proper insignia on their collars. Most walked around with holster strapped to their leg which housed a 45 mm pistol. Their covers sported the Neroli 'logo' – a phoenix rising from the ashes – a metaphor that Charles Hensley loved to use.

Despite his rank amongst the masses (Cage had retired as a Captain), there were still security checks at every point of entry and exit. No matter where you were going, even to use the head, you needed to scan a small, sku-like device which was implanted to their wrists. Apart from it telling the computers who you were, it was one hell of a tracking system. Arriving at the on-base brig, he scanned the sku against the computer, passed two guards and was then accepted inside. "Morning, Staff Sergeant." He said to one of their recruits and the former Soldier, John Mills, who was ordered to keep watch on the prisoners. "I know this is hard work, but you could afford a smile from time to time, no?" He loved harping on Mills, the man was too well trained and too well disciplined to help himself.

"Until this war is over, there is nothing to smile about, sir." Mills said, keeping that ironclad face as he held tightly to his AK-47. "Commander Rudy said you were coming today, sir. . .Interrogating again?" At Cage's nod, the soldier grinned slightly. "If you ever need help, sir. . .My services are available. .. I can make them talk."

Cage had no doubt in his mind that if Mills was the interrogator, there would be a lot of blood, sweat and screams coming from their interrogation room. "Yes, thank you. . .I'll keep that in mind." He patted the soldier on the shoulder then walked into another room which housed the brig's surveillance system. A kid, no older than fifteen, sat before the screens typing frantically on the computers. "Hey, Billy. . .Anything yet?"

Billy, who was kidnapped from his parents six months ago, didn't find it too difficult to adapt to his surroundings. He had always been a sickly child and ideas of joining the Navy to work on their ships had been quashed because of a severe form of asthma. He glanced at Cage, picked up his inhaler and took two hits before speaking. "Nope, not a thing Dave. . .They either talk about their girls back home or they talk about the foods they miss or they talk about. . .Nothing. . .Sometimes, they even sing." He said with a grin, then turned back to the computer.

"What, exactly, do you do here all day?" Cage knew the boy did the surveillance for the entire base and a boundary that spread close to the hut on the other side of the island. "And what about the Gerard's? Has the camera come back online?"

The kid bit back a hiss, then spun around in his chair. "Nope. .. I told you already. The fucking storm winds knocked the cameras out. . . Animals ate the cables. . .It's useless."

"And pointless." Cage added silently as he slipped into a chair next to Billy. "Why were the prisoners moved? Shouldn't they have been in Cell B?"

Billy shrugged. "The mighty 'ol Admiral's request. . .Guess they shot someone else down and needed the room."

"They did, but the Navy rescued them first." He said with a sigh. The damned US Navy was a bit too close for comfort. The island was basically operating under their noses and the poor fools hadn't been able to figure it out. "Open up the gate, I'm going to have a chat with them." He stepped outside of the computer room and waited for a series of doors to open. He stepped through each one, scanning his wrist along every other door until he reached Cell B. "Alright, Billy, open it." He said into the room, knowing that the surveillance equipment would pick it all up.

When the doors opened he found two of the pilots sitting on a cot, playing cards. The other was probably in the head while the fourth was resting in his rack. "Gentlemen." He nodded at the group, then made his way slowly to an industrial looking, metal chair which he sat on. "How are we doing?"

The four men in the room were all pilots who had been shot down within the last year or so. If the men would make it, Neroli would pick them up and use them for the cause. Or, at least, try too. The damned US military trained pilots too well in the art of evasion. The group consisted of two Marine pilots – Captain Eric "Slingshot" Everson and Major Stephen "Smitty" Eaton. The other two were Navy pilots – Lieutenant Christopher "Harley" Osborn and Lieutenant Manuel "Manny" Santos. Being the higher ranking officer from the four, Smitty was always the one to speak on behalf of them. He slipped out of his rack and stood up. "We'd be doing better if you let us out of this rat cage."

Cage stiffened slightly, the men were becoming strong again, either that or they were feigning weakness in order to overthrow him. "You know, things would be so much easier if you just joined us. . .Once all of this is over, you can return to your families as heroes."

"More like traitors." Smitty said as he neared his nemesis. He'd taken a personal hatred for Cage's ignorance. How could a former service member turn his back on his nation? It was disgusting. "We aren't going to join you. . .Besides, it looks like OUR side will be the one winning. . .We heard about the two MIGs you lost." He smiled smugly, the guards, while diligent, had a habit of speaking too loudly. That's the way they got all of their dish. "I know the Tomcats are out again. . .and, if that's the case, they will shoot you down one by one. . .You can't win."

"I suggest you drop the bravado." Leaning in, a sadistic grin was painted on his face. "I'll have you know, the MIGs have already shot down two Tomcats." The look he gave the pilots was one they knew too well. Cage was telling the truth. "The pilots haven't joined you yet, because. . .Well, let's just say I have a friend of mine who is into the torture thing." He lied. There never had been plan of any type of torture. The pilots were too valuable to damage them in any way.

Smitty shook his head. "If you've held us this long, taking care of us so damned well, you wouldn't torture us. So you better get the fuck out of here. . .I got nothing more to say."

Cage never really agreed with Neroli's current terrorist tactics, but he had to admit, these pilots were the key. And they were pissing him off. Standing quickly, he grabbed Smitty by the lapels and had him up against a wall, knife to his throat. He was aware of the pilots now close behind him. "Back off fellas or I'll slit his throat." As it was, the knife had given the man a slight cut, causing blood to drip downwards. There would be hell to pay for that little movement and as the guards tore Cage off of the pilot, his threats echoed through the walls. "They are NEVER coming for you. . .Never. . .We're the only hope you have to get out. . .US. . .Not them! Never them!"

0330 Zulu
USS Patrick Henry
Location Undisclosed

With a slight trepidation, Mac stepped back into the ready room locating a group of Marines who all stood at attention once she stepped in. "At ease."

Second Lieutenant Fields still didn't look pleased. "Ma'am, I assure you that your assistance is not needed. . .Respectfully, I would feel a whole lot better if you'd stay behind."

A team member, a Corporal by the name of Valdez, dared to speak up. "Yes, ma'am. . .Not for nothing because I have the outmost respect for women in uniform, but it might be better if you do stay behind."

Mac's eyebrow shot up as her arms came across her chest. It was her defensive posture, one that has, on many occasions, made the other party quite nervous. "I'll give you a chance to speak freely here. Is the problem that I am a woman?"

"Ma'am, with all due respect, you're a lawyer." Fields said, his worry etched across his face. "Gender aside, legal weenies had a tendency to be. . .well, just that."

"Lieutenant, I'm a Marine first, lawyer second. . .That's the way I've always handled things. . .First to fight."

The group laughed at this. Somehow the idea of a lawyer going to battle was hysterical. A look from her had them quiet in seconds. Fields once again answered, "Have you even been in battle before?"

Ah, a loaded question if she ever heard one before. This was their way of asking about her kills. Sadly, most of them were classified so Mac's records never reflected her heroics. It was now her turn to laugh. "Lieutenant, I've been in such situations that would make the men of your squad piss their pants and go crying home to their mommy's. . .I've laid on a table, waiting to get tortured so that government secrets wouldn't be exposed. I've been shot once and still have the mark on my thigh to prove it. I have scars on my body that attest to being attacked – friendly fire – in the Afghani desert. . . I've shot a terrorist on US soil, in cold blood. . .Oh, and just for shits and giggles, I can strip down an M16. . .blind folded. . .So do you still have any problems with me joining you?"

Fields grinned. "Since you put it that way. . . welcome aboard, Colonel, ma'am."

"In that case, what's the plan?" She motioned to a map that was affixed to the greenie board. "I assume we would want to go in quietly."

"Yes, ma'am. . .Right now we're waiting for the Guadalcanal. We need the extra Marine power if things are as bad as they appear to be." He pointed at a spot on the map and then ran his index finger across to another. "It's not too far away. . .We'll have a COD drop us as close as possible and use the CRRC to go the rest of the way. . .By the time we arrive the Guadalcanal should be making a Rendezvous with the Henry. On our mark, it shouldn't take them more than two, maybe three hours tops to provide support."

Mac glanced at the map, feeling this instant pull to the spot that Fields had his finger on. He's there. Harm's there. She took a deep breath and shook her thoughts. Now it was time to plan, not worry. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, spaced out for a moment there."

"You must care an awful lot to go through all of this, ma'am." He pointed out with a sad smile. "I promise, if Captain Rabb is on that island, we're getting him out." Motioning with his hands, he waved over his group and ordered them to have a seat. "If you don't mind, Colonel, you should sit down for this."

Soon Captain Loftness, Keeter and the XO joined them along with the COD pilot and two F-14 teams. Fields leaned against the greenie board as Loftness addressed the group. "Alright, all of our preparations are in place. . .The Guadalcanal is coming, full speed ahead, to our current location. . .They believe that the arrival time should be in about two hours. . ." He took a pen and marked the spots on the map again. "We are here." Loftness pointed. "Our target is here. . . The idea is to have the COD go out and drop you boys. . .and girl." He grinned at Mac. "As close as we can without detection. . .For that reason, I've decided to use two F-14s as a – distraction, if you will. . .If the MIGs are up in the air, we'll give them something to play with. . .Once Second Lieutenant Field's group radios in, we'll have more Marines in place, we're raiding that island and getting our boys home. . . Any questions?"

"No, sir!" Chorused around the room.

"Alright, dismissed." All members came to attention, gave a firm, "Aye, aye, sir." And quickly went about their business.

Loftness waved Mac over. "I'm done trying to change your mind. . .So, get back to me in one piece, I still want you to check into this Vukovic thing when you head back."

"Understood, Skipper. . .When I get the Captain onboard, he'll need some time in Sickbay. . . I'll look into the Commander as thoroughly as I can."

He sighed deeply. "I have some disdain for the man. . .It goes way back. . .Thing is, I have a bad feeling about this and I'm usually right on those. . .A man like him doesn't belong in our Navy."

"I have the same types of feelings, Skipper. . .And, with all due respect, I have more of a reason to hate him if he did what I think he did." Her stomach tightened at the thought. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Keeter stepped in front of her as she was about to step through the hatch. "Mac. . .Be careful, will you?"

"I will, Jack. . .thanks."

Mac weaved her way through the expanses of the ship, finding the Marine squad getting their things together. Second Lieutenant Fields gave her a quick tutoring on how to use the gear. Several of the others offered pointers on how to survive a ride in the CRRC. "I've parachuted about six times." She reassured Fields who was more than a little worried about jumping out of the COD. Of course, she failed to mention that those jumps had been a good four years ago when she and an old bootcamp buddy had decided to take lessons for the fun of it.

"This is a night time jump, Colonel. . .On the ride over we'll fill you in with all of the details. . .I am going to stick you with Sergeant Stone, you can call him Sticky."

"Sticky?" She couldn't help making a face.

Fields chuckled. "We gave him the name after he had a little accident with a tube of crazy glue and. . ." His face fell slightly, as he realized he was about to detail a sick prank to a woman AND a senior officer. "I'm sorry, ma'am. . .this is not an appropriate conversation. . .It's a bit dirty."

Mac scrunched up her nose. "My mind is filling in the missing elements. . .thanks."

"Past that, he's the best I have. . .Better than me. .. that boy will lead a team someday." He handed her a water proof map. "You and him will take the West side of the island. . .that's where that hut is. . .We'll be on channel 9 during the course of this mission. . .Remember to use your radio jamming device before speaking. . .Any questions?"

"Nope. . .Let's go." Before she had a chance to move, the phone inside the room buzzed and one of the Marines was quickly handing it to her. "Colonel MacKenzie." It was quite surprising to hear such an unwelcome voice over the line.

("Colonel, this is Secretary of the Navy Caroline Hewitt. . .I order you to remain on board the USS Patrick Henry. . .If you disobey, charges will be brought up against you. . .I will strip you of your rank and your command. . .Do you understand?" The voice said over the line, the threats bringing chills up Mac's back.)