Dum dum dum, thickening plot ahead! ;)
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Enjoy!
Jackie
ACT 3
0120 Zulu
Miami, Florida
Harm glanced down at a small white piece of paper with instructions to the location along with the words, "No later than ten pm. . .Come alone. You are sworn to secrecy. Join The Underground." Sitting in his car, he looked up to find an abandoned warehouse that was situated right on the Miami river near downtown Miami. He was still wearing his cammies, being in uniform always made him feel strong, invincible and with this strange feeling at the pit of his stomach, he needed that shield.
"Alright, Hammer, get going." He took a deep breath, jumped out of the car and became Gunny Davies complete with this strong, cocky strut. It was dark around the warehouse, so much that it was difficult to see where he was going. Not that it mattered, a second later two men grabbed him by the arms and hurled him inside. He struggled against them, but it was no use. "Let me go!"
A light flashed, blinding him momentarily and when his eyes adjusted he found Corporal Greene and Lance Corporal Sutton staring down at him with a matching set of grins. "Not a word, Gunny. . .But you are going to listen to me. Military ranks and formalities are left outside. The moment you step in here, you are just a man following our rules. . .We've apparently struck your curiosity if you came all the way out here. . .If you agree to stay, you'll be joining the Underground. . .If you want to leave, that's your prerogative, but we will be watching you. . . If you breathe a word, you're a dead man. Agreed?" Greene offered Harm a hand to stand him up.
Harm stared at Greene's hand for a moment. How was it that he always wound up in these situations? And this, by far, had to be the strangest thing he'd ever done. He slipped his hand into Greene's. "Agreed."
"Follow me." Harm followed the men as they weaved through the dimly lit corridors of the warehouse. The farther they walked, the sounds of people yelling became louder. Sutton stopped at the double doors that lead to the fighting room and turned to grin at Harm. "From here on in, you're one of us." The moment the doors opened, Harm winced at the stench of blood and sweat. They stepped inside the dank room and what he saw took him by surprise. Piles of shirts, jackets and blouses were stacked in the corners as men, barefoot and wearing only trousers cheered on the latest battle. "Loose the boots, jacket and shirt. . .No weapons, just bare fists."
Harm nodded and quickly did as told thanking God he'd chosen to leave his service weapon in the car. "This is incredible." And though it was wrong and brutal, it was incredible. There were service men from all walks of life – Marine, Coast Guard, Navy, Army and even some civilians. It was well organized, secretive and it was working. As he stared on, he had the overwhelming feeling to join in and find out, for himself, what the talk was all about. "When do I fight?" He bit his inner cheek, that wasn't him talking and it scared him that his mind seemed to formulate that sentence without him being the wiser. "Who do I fight?" He turned to Sutton who unrolled a wad of bills and handed it to the 'The Messenger,' who was again on his cell phone taking bets.
Greene patted Harm on the back. "You and I are going next." At Harm's shocked look, he just chuckled. "No offence, but you got me pretty good today. . . Mike here believes that you're going to knock me down, but most of the guys in here are betting on me kicking your six."
He was unsure how he wound up there, but seconds later Harm was standing in the center of a man made circle with Greene pounding him to a pulp. "Ugh!" He wasn't able to comprehend how the heck this man, who was a head shorter than him could have the upper hand. If there had been ropes for him to fall against, he would have used them. But, there were no ropes and each time he was knocked against the sea of men, they would shove him to his feet and back into the 'ring.'
It wasn't boxing, Harm deduced the moment he felt the first swing which was neither well swung or calculated. Greene was just free swinging and, as a result, managed to clock Harm a couple of times with a fierce intensity. No, it wasn't boxing, it was barely fighting. . .This was just a brawl between two men without the rules or finesse that came with boxing. There were no gloves, no fancy shorts, no shoes. It was skin on skin, street fighting. They were the gladiators of their time. "C'mon Gunny. . .where's that spunk you showed earlier?"
In that brief moment, Greene momentarily let his guard down giving Harm the opportunity to lay a perfectly calculated punch to the side of his face. When the younger man tried to kick him, Harm grabbed his leg pulled him close and punched him on the abdomen, his height and longer reach allowed him to make that move count.
Greene recovered quickly and lunged at Harm sending them both to the ground with an, "Oof." Using his legs, Harm pushed Greene off of him and quickly stood. As the other man tried to lunge once again, Harm found an area of his body that Greene was not protecting. He rounded, and placed a strong, clean kick against Greene's abdomen, sending the younger man to the ground. As he stood over Greene, there was a dark look in Harm's eyes and an exhilaration he only felt when flying. He was enjoying the moment, the fight. It was pure and it was real. The men cheered him on, all chanting for him to finish what he'd started. Deep in the moment, he came down to his knees and punched Greene on the side of the face, knocking him out.
In the back of the room two 'The Messenger' stood with eyes wide open. "Sir, I think I found your knew race horse. . .Gunny Davies." He said into the cellphone.
Sutton came up to Harm, raising one of his hands in the air as a sign of victory. "Welcome to the Underground."
0349 Zulu
Mac's Apartment
San Diego, California
Mac sat on her sofa with a notebook computer on her lap, her legs curled up under her. "Client declines the right to an article 32 hearing and prefers to go straight to sentencing." She said out loud as she typed the same sentence into the file she was working on. "What an idiot." She shook her head and sighed, not getting why someone would just chose to throw their life away when she was sure an Article 32 would blow the prosecution's case out of the water.
A message flashed briefly on the corner of her screen Flyboy63 has signed on. With a smile and a happy sigh, she clicked on the messaging software and prepared to send Harm an IM.
On his cell phone, Harm paced around the small quarters as he filled the General in on the details of the case. "Well, sir, I did fight and, I have to say, it's brutal. . .But, so far, the only illegal part of it all is the betting. . .Tomorrow, I'll see if I can have a look around the warehouse. . .Yes, the details and the location will be the in report I'm e-mailing you. . .Will do, sir, have a good evening."
With a huff, he glanced at the computer and shook his head, the report would have to wait a few minutes longer. "I feel like I've been bowled over by a Tomcat." Harm said with a grunt as he stood then maneuvered his body towards the refrigerator of his quarters in search of some ice. He placed some in a rag and jumped slightly when the unusually loud sound of an IM came out of his laptop. "Yea yea, coming!" He grumbled, then headed back to the small living room, collapsing on the sofa, dragging the laptop onto his lap. "Sarah." He whispered. My God, ever since he was off playing Gunny Davies, he'd forgotten about her. Placing the ice on his cheek he winced as it throbbed.
NinjaGirlMac: Well, hello there stranger! I've missed you. :kiss
Flyboy63: Yea, that makes two of us. . .Sorry for being out of contact, Cresswell sent me on assignment and I've been insanely busy.
NinjaGirlMac: What are you up to?
Flyboy63: Can't say at the moment. Not to use the term 'classified' but it's pretty high profile. You'll know soon enough.
NinjaGirlMac: Just promise to stay out of trouble, will ya?
Out of trouble? Yea, like that was ever going to happen? He stared at the screen, unsure what he should write. It might have been stupid, but he didn't want to promise her anything. If something went wrong, he just didn't want to break that promise to her.
Mac, as well, was staring into the screen, waiting for him to write back, to say something else. But, he didn't. That's when she felt it again, that feeling of dread that had been settling at the pit of her stomach. It didn't help that his 'tone' in this chat was a little colder than usual.
NinjaGirlMac: Harm? Is something wrong?
Flyboy63: Just tired, babe. . . I need to finish this report for the General and then I'm going to hit the sac. I'll talk to you soon?
NinjaGirlMac: Yeah, okay. Love you.
Again, he didn't answer back. Flyboy63 has signed out. That message hurt her more than she was willing to say. Your message was unable to be delivered. "Damnit." She cursed then took a quick look at the time. What was he doing going to bed so late, or rather, so early in the morning? Furling her brow, she resisted the urge to call the General, but something made her give in. It wasn't too late in DC and though it was against her normal operating procedures to bother a superior officer, she was desperate. Grabbing her phone, she dialed the numbers she now knew by heart. "Mrs. Cresswell, it's Colonel MacKenzie. Oh, I am fine ma'am, but is the General available? I really need to speak with him." She waited patiently for a few seconds before Creswell's voice answered over the line. "I am sorry to disturb you, sir, but it's about the Captain."
Cresswell grinned from ear to ear. It always amused him that, even though, Harm and Mac were engaged, they still referred to each other by their ranks when speaking with him. "I'd figure you would be calling soon, Colonel. . .The Captain is fine, I assure you. . .He's been sent, by me, on a tough assignment. . .In fact, I spoke to him earlier this evening."
Mac sighed. Thank God. "Thank you sir, it's just that. . . one tends to worry when your fiancé isn't calling you."
"He's fine, Colonel. . .Is there anything else?"
"No, thank you, sir. . .Good evening." With that, she hung up, feeling marginally better. But, she was still unable to get that sick feeling out of her system. Throwing her head back onto the sofa, she sighed deeply and glanced to a picture of her and Harm together. It had been taken that special night at McMurphy's. "You're going to be the death of me, flyboy." With a frown she reached over, took the picture and hugged it to her. Soon they would be together. . .Soon.
0220 Zulu
Miami, Florida
That evening, the crowd noise was more overwhelming than ever as new meat, an Ensign named Chuck Lane, was facing off against Lance Corporal Sutton. During his stay at SOUTHCOM and subsequent involvement in The Underground, Harm had noticed an increment in activity the moment an officer or a commander of a unit came into the battle. As he headed inside, he stopped for a moment, gave his money to 'The Messenger' and walked in to catch the fight. He stood in the back, feeling eyes on him and a familiar sense of foreboding that made him feel uneasy.
"Commander Rabb, fancy meeting you down here." As much as Harm tried to remain impartial to the fact that someone in the Underground knew him, he knew he gave himself away as his head automatically snapped towards the voice. He glared at the man standing in front of him and even before realization kicked in, a question was answered. "Petty Officer Luis Zadora, sir."
Harm's foggy memory cleared as snap shots of one of his few botched cases came to his mind. Zadora had been found using marijuana while at sea. Though Harm put up a good fight, Mac had destroyed Zadora's credibility on the stand. "I have no idea who you think I am, now, if you don't mind." He motioned to the battle, cheering along with the other men.
"My mistake then." Zadora said, raising his hands in defeat. Still, there was a look in his eyes, a certainty that he couldn't shake. "You wouldn't mind battling it out with me would you?"
Before Harm knew it, he was placed in the fighting ring again with Zadora as his opponent. The man fought hard, delivering a few blows that had knocked him off of his kilter. With a thud, Harm hit the ground hard, his head banging into the cement floor. As fast as possible, he tapped his fingers to the ground, removing himself from the match.
0310 Zulu
Mac's Apartment
San Diego, California
Lungs were burning and she was panting hard, but Mac was unwilling to let exhaustion rule her just yet. Her toned legs carried her across the beach as she ran at full speed towards a lifeguard tower that was her target. As the days had gone by, the communication between herself and Harm were few and far between. It was a rough case, Cresswell reminded her, but it didn't cease this aching inside. She knew something was wrong and it was just a matter of time before it bowled over.
Using the last of her energy, she ran off of the beach and towards their apartment, this time using a light jog instead of the hard run she'd attacked her body with. She took the steps up slowly, pausing to get the mail that she'd neglected to pick up when she arrived. After opening the door, she tossed her keys on a side table, locked the door and then proceeded to go through the correspondence. Choosing to open the cell phone bill first, she was mildly surprised that Harm's calls at the end of the cycle didn't cost them a single, extra cent. She and Harm had decided to have a joint phone bill since it would lower the costs of calling abroad. Besides her normal calls to him, she found an extra set of calls that originated from his line.
As her eyes scanned the statement she saw daily calls from Harm's cell phone to both Falls Church and Montclair. That would make sense if he were calling Cresswell, but why were the calls so cheap? Promptly, she dialed the number for customer service and waited while the consultant pulled up the whereabouts of Harm's cell phone. "Yes, I am afraid my fiancé's phone might have been stolen. . .I just need to know where the last calls to Montclair and Falls Church originated from." She waited patiently while the operator brought up the information. "Miami? Thank you." With a frown, she tossed the phone on the sofa and sighed deeply. "Harm, what are you up to?"
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