Revenge
Chapter 4
Hours later, Harm has deciphered just the first two pages of the first file. Although old, the information is apparently still top secret; he doesn't recognize any of it. Much of the time is spent in not only deciphering the information, but also determining a plausible but incorrect translation for the DSD.
Harm's stomach grumbles loudly, signifying it has been quite a while since his sparse breakfast. He is beginning to wonder if he's been forgotten when the door opens. He is instantly on his guard, expecting Banes to enter and harass him once again. Instead, Ryan enters with a tray of food.
"Is this lunch or dinner?" Harm asks. He has no idea what time it might be—only a sense of having worked on the files for hours.
"Its dinner," the young man responds warily. Overhearing his uncle talking, Ryan gets the sense that this man has somehow earned the rancor of every man in the lodge, especially his uncle. He wonders fleetingly if Harm's presence is known to any but the few who saw him this morning. For himself, Ryan has reserved judgment. He hasn't yet uncovered the reason Clark Palmer—or his uncle—hates Harm so much; he believes anyone who gets on Palmer's bad side can't be all bad.
Harm carefully gets up from his seat and crosses to where Ryan has stopped. "Thank you," he says, taking the tray from the younger man. He's grateful the tray doesn't weigh much, after sitting for hours hunched over the desk, his ribs are really hurting. He's sitting back down at the desk when Ryan speaks, startling him.
"What's bothering you?" he asks.
Harm misses the chair and ends up landing heavily on the floor. Pain shoots through his ribs but he manages to bite back a groan. "One broken and several cracked ribs will bother anyone," Harm finally answers between clenched teeth.
"When did that happen?" Ryan asks. "You've been in here all day." He studies Harm further and notices the bruising on his face. "Did you pick a fight with someone?"
"Only if you call getting punched while wearing handcuffs picking a fight. The second time around, although my arms were free, it was such a surprise I didn't have time to defend myself."
"You do something else to piss Clark Palmer off? I heard he doesn't like you much…him or the two men who came with him." Ryan comments.
Harm studies Ryan for a moment. He decides to tell the kid the truth. "It wasn't Clark Palmer, although the dislike between us is mutual, as it is with Hodge and Sturtevant."
"So who did it?" Ryan asks.
Harm thinks back to the early morning when he was introduced to Donald Banes. Ryan was looking over his shoulder, leaning close. Harm wondered then, as now, what the relationship is between the two men. "Donald Banes," he says simply, not knowing what Ryan's reaction will be. Had he not been watching closely, Harm would have missed seeing Ryan's face blanch quickly to white. Just as quickly, the color returns—his face achieving a bright shade of red.
"Why in the world would my uncle do that?" he demands. "Why are you spreading lies about him?"
Harm is taken aback by Ryan's vehemence. "Ask your uncle why," Harm answers quietly. Now that he knows the relationship, he wishes he hadn't said anything.
"I'll do that right before I tell him he should let you starve to death," Ryan retorts angrily. He grabs the tray of untouched food and stalks out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Unfortunately for Harm, he is rational enough to remember to lock it. Harm carefully levers himself off the floor and back into the chair. He figures he doesn't have long to wait before Banes comes to exact his revenge.
Fifteen, then thirty minutes pass before Harm hears the sound of the door being unlocked. He tenses, anticipating the anger and beating he will soon receive; only it is once again Ryan, not Banes, and the young man looks shell shocked. Quietly, Ryan carries another tray to the desk and places it in front of Harm. As he turns to go, Harm sees the bright red handprint on his left cheek. Harm reaches out a hand and gently catches Ryan's arm, bringing him back to the desk. "I'm sorry, Ryan," Harm says softly.
"It's I who should be sorry," Ryan says. "I should have known with my uncle's temper that he is capable of what you described. He's been that way since the company he worked for folded."
Harm reminds himself to not let Ryan know he was the cause of that. "I didn't mean to hurt you. And I didn't know Banes is your uncle. Otherwise I never would have told you what I did; not because what I said is not true, but because it is not something you need to hear, especially from a stranger." He pauses for a moment to let his words sink in. "Did he hit you?" Harm asks.
Ryan winces and puts his hand to his cheek. The flesh is hotter than that surrounding it. "Yeah. I guess I said something I shouldn't have." Ryan seems to be waging an internal battle. Finally, he speaks again. "Is there anything I can do to help you?" he asks.
"I really don't want to get you involved in this, Ryan," Harm says. "But if you know of anyone else that might be willing to help, I'd appreciate if you would help me communicate with them."
"Why don't you want me involved?"
"Frankly I'm concerned about what your uncle would do to you if he found out you were helping me," Harm replies. He looks intently into Ryan's face, trying to convey his sincerity. "He's already slapped you; I don't want to cause it to go any farther." He catches and holds Ryan's gaze before speaking again. "I need you to promise me you won't get any more involved than carrying messages for me."
Ryan weighs his options and decided he'd really rather not make his uncle any more upset with him. "I promise. But if you change your mind and need me for anything else, I'm willing," he says.
"Thank you." Harm's concern touches Ryan, especially after the way his uncle just treated him.
"I think I might know someone who will help you," Ryan says. "I'll go talk to him now." Ryan darts out of the room, leaving a bemused and very hungry Harm behind.
Harm takes a close look at the tray left by Ryan. It contains a tuna sandwich, small bowl of fruit salad, bag of potato chips and a bottle of water. Not the most appealing meal, but Harm makes the most of it, saving some of the water for the rest of the afternoon. He places the tray beside the door when he's finished, now quite satisfied.
Harm crosses back to the desk, wondering how long they're planning on leaving him in this room to work. Another couple of hours later, Harm has two more pages deciphered for Banes and a much clearer idea what the information actually contains. He's having trouble keeping his eyes open and concentrating on his work. Needing a few minutes to rest his tired eyes before continuing, he lays his arms on the desk and rests his head on them. He intends to remain that way for just a few minutes, but events catch up with him and he is asleep within moments.
Just a few minutes later—if only Harm had known—Palmer arrives with Hodge to escort him back to his room. Seeing Harm asleep at the desk, Palmer decides the time is right for his brand of revenge; he's had to stand back and let Banes take out his frustrations…now is his turn.
Palmer tells Hodge to remain at the door. He approaches the desk quietly, determined not to wake Harm before he's ready. He pauses to study his subject for a while. Even in sleep Harm's face is troubled. He is sleeping with his head turned so his uninjured cheek rests on his arms. His injured cheek is an interesting rainbow of colors; black, blue, red, yellow, purple and green. The cut on his lip has stopped bleeding, but is still swollen and discolored. Palmer admires the sight of the injured officer a few moments longer before reaching into his pocket for his contribution to Harm's discomfort.
Hodge watches with interest as Palmer pulls a syringe and a bottle of fluid out of his pocket. He only draws 1 cc of the fluid into the syringe—the stuff he's using is very potent. Once he's sure he has the right amount, Palmer motions for Hodge to join him. Whispering, he tells Hodge to hold Harm while he injects the liquid. Hodge takes up position behind Harm and pulls him into a choke hold at Palmer's signal. Harm wakes abruptly, but not fast enough to get free and stop Palmer. Less than a second and it's done. Hodge releases Harm and steps back.
"Be glad it was me and not Banes who walked in on you sleeping," Palmer says, an amused smile on his face as he watches Harm react to his serum.
"What did you give me?" Harm gasps, the combination of choke hold and drug making him breathless.
"Just a little something I whipped up for you," Palmer gloats. "Would you like to know what it does?" he taunts. Harm is trying to deal with the fire coursing through his body and does not respond. "Ah well, I suppose you'll figure that out on your own," he says.
The burning sensation is already beginning to dissipate. "Palmer, you're heartless," Harm manages.
"I'll give you a small warning; you might want to be careful about pissing Banes off in the future," he taunts. "Now let's see how much work you accomplished before falling asleep on the job. You know…I can't imagine Chegwidden being very happy with you if that were to happen at work," he laughs. "Then again, from what I've heard, nothing you do would surprise him." Palmer picks up the pages and peruses them. "Only four pages. I thought you could do better than that, Commander. Keep up this pace and you won't be able to avoid pissing off Banes."
The burning sensation all but gone, Harm is left with a renewed aching of his earlier injuries. "It's slow going, Palmer. The code is different. Since these are so old, I'm guessing Arams must have gotten worried you would crack it and changed it. Either that or he used a different variation with each batch he sent. What I'm wondering is why it's taken you so long to try to figure this all out. Seven years is a long time to wait for information."
"You'll have to ask Banes why we've waited so long; I'm sure he'd be happy to explain it to you," Palmer says with a secret smile. "Oh by the way…other than the first effects, there are a couple of side effects to the serum I gave you…"
"Like what?" Harm asks, trying not to sound desperate.
"You know what? I don't think I'm going to tell you. I think I'll let you figure them out for yourself since you're so smart. Now stand up like a nice little officer and let Hodge put the handcuffs on," he smirks.
Harm wants to protest, he wants to throw things in a rage or just have a good yell; instead he obediently stands and allows Hodge to lock his wrists into the cold iron cuffs. They actually aren't tight until Palmer checks them. Giving Hodge a glare, he tightens them until they're painfully tight. Hodge shrugs, apologizing to Harm with a look and leads him from the room.
xxxx
"I wish I had better news," Webb begins, unable to meet Mac or AJ's eyes. "So far we're staring at a dead end. Whoever arranged for the switch in Leavenworth doesn't stand out. Palmer and his buddies haven't turned up anywhere—neither has Rabb. The man who infiltrated CIA Headquarters—Donald Banes—has disappeared as well. Wherever they are, they're well hidden."
"What about other former DSD agents?" AJ asks.
"We have those we've been able to locate under 24 hour surveillance, but there are few around."
"Who is involved at this point? AJ queries.
"At the moment just us—you four, my section and I. Depending on how you want to proceed, I'm prepared to involve the FBI and local PD's. I'm aware you probably want this kept as quiet as possible, but I believe we're going to need manpower to find them."
"I think, with what little we've turned up so far, that would be a wise idea," AJ agrees cautiously. "For my part, I have confirmation all three escapees were with Rabb. They brought him here, apparently looking for something. The only thing the sentries could tell me is although he cooperated, Rabb didn't appear happy about it."
"They must have had something keeping him in check; Harm would never willingly abet fugitives," Mac jumps in quickly.
"I'm not stating otherwise, Colonel. We're just presenting facts at this point," remarks AJ.
"Sorry, sir," Mac says, embarrassed by her reaction. "Commander Turner and I didn't find anything of use at Harm's apartment. Both of his vehicles are still there, but so is his bag for his weekend trip. The only real information we got was from a lady in his building. She said she saw the four of them leaving the building somewhere around 2330 Friday. From what she described, Harm had been drugged. She said he seemed 'out-of-it'. She said they pretty much loaded him into an SUV like a side of beef and took off."
"The sentry at the gate reported Rabb was driving when they arrived," AJ comments. "They must have stopped somewhere to switch drivers."
"One of the first things I'll ask the local PD to do is canvas the area for witnesses to an exchange of drivers," Webb puts in.
Mac speaks up suddenly. "Webb, we searched Harm's apartment, but do you think you could send a forensics team over? Maybe find something we might have missed? If he's been drugged—and by all accounts he has been—maybe they can find a trace to substantiate."
"Good thinking, Colonel. I'd like you to arrange the same for his office—after regular hours." AJ agrees.
"I'll set both up right away. What would be the best time to get the team here?" Webb asks AJ.
"2200-0400 would be optimum."
"10 pm it is," Webb says with a slight smile.
"If there's nothing further," AJ says, pausing long enough for someone to speak up, "I believe it's time we all get back to work. Commander, I you have court in an hour if I'm not mistaken."
"Yes, sir," Sturgis replies. If the officers had any doubts their CO knows their schedules, this comment has laid it to rest.
"Colonel, if you would find out where Rabb is with the few cases he was handling, we'd best reassign those."
"Yes, sir," Mac acknowledges.
"Lieutenant, you may return to your regular duties after you call to check on your husband," AJ finishes.
"Aye, sir," Harriet manages, barely holding back the tears that threaten at her CO's offer.
"Dismissed," AJ snaps. All three officers—and even Webb—snap to attention before filing out of his office.
"Harriet," Mac calls," If you'd like to use Harm's phone for your call, I don't think he'd mind. I just need to grab those files and I'll leave you alone."
"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate that." They both enter Harm's office, Harriet sitting in his chair and reaching for the phone while Mac directs her attention to the small stack of files on Harm's desk. She checks to make sure she has them all and exits, softly closing the door behind her.
"What is she doing in Commander Rabb's office?" Lt. Singer asks from beside her.
"I don't believe it's any of your concern, Lieutenant," Mac informs her. "As you mentioned, it's the commander's office, not yours." Mac is in her office with the door closed behind her before Singer can think of a response.
"Well it won't be his for long if I have anything to say about it," Singer mutters to herself. "The admiral has to know he left early on Friday, didn't pull any weekend duty and hasn't bothered to show his face today. If I were in charge he'd have been gone a long time ago for some of the stunts I've heard he's pulled. I wonder why the admiral keeps him around." She's still standing in the middle of the bullpen muttering to herself; guiltily she glances around. She feels relieved that it doesn't appear anyone heard her tirade. She walks back to her office and closes the door—she doesn't hear any of the comments made behind her back.
Mac has just begun going through Harm's files when she feels a sharp pain in her right side. It subsides to a dull ache fairly quickly. She wonders briefly if there's any connection between this and the ache in her jaw when she awoke. Shaking off the thought, she resumes her perusal of the files.
A couple of hours later, she has reassigned all of the cases Harm had—other than Arams—giving all but the two most important ones to Lt. Singer. The other two she splits between Sturgis and herself. The rest of the day is spent giving Sturgis and Singer their new cases and continuing Harm's research on the one she kept for herself.
Somewhere in the midst of the case file, Harriet comes in and tells her Bud is no better/no worse. The doctors told her the surgery went fine—as well as could be expected considering his leg had been blown off—but he had not yet regained consciousness. They are not concerned about that yet, but will be if his condition does not improve in a few days.
Thinking back, Mac hopes she made the appropriate responses when she should have. She only vaguely recalls the conversation. She rubs her tired eyes and realizes it's well past time to go home. She gathers all the materials she will need to work on her cases at home and exits her office.
The bullpen is dark, only a few light panels light the area. Mac notices the lights are still on in AJ's office and changes her trajectory from the exit to her CO's office. Tiner is already gone, so she just knocks and enters when she hears AJ call to enter.
"Working late, Colonel?" AJ asks, looking up from his files.
"Yes, sir. I got caught up in the Edwards case file."
"So you took that one for yourself." It's more a statement than question but Mac nods anyway. "What did you do with the rest of the Commander's cases?" he asks.
"I assigned all but the Edwards and Portman cases to Lt. Singer. The latter I assigned to Commander Turner and as you saw, I took the former for myself."
"Excellent. Rabb'll be surprised to find he has nothing to do when he returns," AJ comments. 'I just hope we find him soon enough to make that statement true,' he adds to himself.
"I sure hope we find him soon so he can be upset about having all his cases reassigned," Mac says, mirroring AJ's thoughts. "Did you hear anything else today?" she asks.
"Unfortunately, we haven't had any more luck this afternoon than we had this morning." Mac and AJ share a frown and a sigh.
"Are you heading home soon, sir?" Mac asks.
"No, I'm going to wait for Webb's team. When they've finished, I'll head home for a short time, but I'm not sure I'll be there long."
Caught up in work, Mac had completely forgotten about Webb's teams doing their forensics testing of Harm's home and office tonight. "Is there anything I can do?" Mac asks. "I can stay and wait for the team if you would rather go home," she offers.
"I appreciate the offer, but there is a lot I can do here while I'm waiting. Go home and get some sleep, Colonel. I'll be fine here." At Mac's dubious expression, he adds, "If I need to make that an order, I will. I believe you have court tomorrow with Captain Sebring. It wouldn't do for you to fall asleep in his courtroom," he says.
"I almost forgot about that. I think he's still mad I prosecuted in his trial," Mac agrees.
"I don't believe he holds a grudge against you for that," AJ admonishes. "I think he was a bit upset that you almost succeeded in your prosecution."
"Until Harm pulled another rabbit out of his hat," she says ruefully.
"I'm just glad it wasn't another weapon fired into the ceiling this time," AJ returns, both of them recalling the less than stellar moments of the missing officer.
"Well, no one can argue that his courtroom style isn't unique. Did you know Admiral Morris threatened him with a psyche eval if he ever pulled a stunt like that again in his courtroom?"
"If Rabb ever does something like that again, he'll be answering to me first. Everyone else will have to wait until I'm finished with him before they can have a piece of him—if I leave anything that is."
Mac cringes at the thought of an angry SEAL going after her partner. "I think he's embarrassed by that incident now," she says.
"I would imagine he is. He's matured a lot these last few years."
"I know. I think we both have," Mac admits. "If Palmer had done this several years ago I'd be even more concerned that I am now. I'd be afraid he'd do something really stupid and get himself killed. As it is, I just hope he's matured enough to stay alive until we can find him."
"Although I probably shouldn't admit it, those are my concerns also. But I'm not sure he has the patience to wait. And until something solid comes up, we have to be content to wait for others to locate him. I think that's what really bothers me—not being able to do anything. Palmer, Hodge and Sturtevant are dangers, especially for Harm." He looks at Mac intently as he continues. "Of all the officers under my command, Harm has served with me the longest. He didn't question my orders when I sent him on a HALO jump with a team of SEALS to determine why another aviator was killed. When I sent Commander Krennick to Norfolk to take point in the investigation into Lt. Schonke's death, it was not for lack of faith or trust in him, but for the sake of appearance. I didn't want anyone questioning the investigation because I let someone with a personal stake in the outcome lead the investigation." AJ is called to the past, remembering the early days of his appointment as JAG—and the young and impetuous hotshot he inherited.
"Did you know he finally discovered who killed Lt. Schonke, and Lt. Lamm?" Mac asks, breaking into his reverie.
"I thought Lamm killed her and committed suicide," AJ says, puzzled.
"It was set up to seem that way, but Lt. Lamm supposedly shot himself with his right hand—he was left-handed. With that information and a letter Diane—Lt. Schonke—wrote, he was able to put the pieces together."
"Who was it; and why didn't he make any formal charges?" AJ responds.
"It was Commander Holbarth. He fell off the dock in Norfolk when Harm confronted him with the letter and was crushed by his ship. Harm hadn't filed any formal charges because the letter he had was just a draft and was not addressed or signed—therefore inadmissible in court."
"How did he know who the letter was written to?"
"From what the letter contained and things that were said during the investigation."
"And how do you know about all of this?" he asks.
Mac had been hoping he wouldn't ask that question, but since it's out there, she answers truthfully. "He told me about it. In bits and pieces at first, then he finally told me the entire story…but that wasn't until after Holbarth died."
"You were there?"
"Yeah. I was the reason Holbarth fell off the pier," she admits unhappily.
"I think you need to tell me the whole story," AJ prods.
Mac sighs heavily, letting her mind wander back to the past once again. "It all started on a rainy night. Harm and I were supposed to work on a case at his place…" She tells the tale, leaving nothing out. Mac notes the disapproval on AJ's face when she tells him about the gun and an even more disgusted look when she relates how Harm misled her.
AJ, for his part, says nothing, allowing Mac to tell the entire story before beginning his questions. "Why did you return his weapon?" is the first one.
"It's not his only one," she defends herself. "He would have just gotten another one and used it instead."
He nods at her answer, agreeing with her assessment of the situation. "Why didn't you simply contact Norfolk and have them detain the Commander?"
"I didn't want him to lose his career over it. I was hoping he would come to his senses, but even more, I was hoping I would be able to get there in time to stop him."
"He put both of your careers on the line when he lied to you and left you at his apartment, and yet you still felt the need to protect him?" AJ's query if laced with an unreadable undertone.
"I know it sounds strange, sir. But…" she shrugs not able to explain it.
"Nothing that happens, or has happened, between the two of you since the day you met has been anything less than strange," he comments. "I suppose your similarity with Lt. Schonke is the reason for his reaction when you met," he ponders.
"Harm said he was very shocked that day. Bud just watched him, not knowing how he would react."
"Roberts knew?" AJ says incredously. Understanding dawns quickly. "Of course, he was the PR officer on board the Seahawk, was he not?"
"Yes, sir. And one of the men who found Diane."
"So he's known about this all along. Why didn't he ever say anything?"
"He had the feeling Harm didn't want anyone to know. I've seen a picture of Diane. It's no wonder he looked like he'd been sucker punched that day."
"And the three of you have kept it quiet all these years."
"Well, there are four besides you who know now, but yes."
"Who's the fourth? Wait, don't tell me. It's Turner isn't it?"
Mac nods and the object of their discussion—unaware he's being discussed—knocks softly on the open door.
"I thought everyone had gone home for the evening," he says, perching on the unoccupied chair in front of AJ's desk.
"I was on my way out. The admiral is planning on waiting for Webb's crew," Mac explains. "We just got caught up talking about Harm."
"More stories like the time he fired into the courtroom ceiling?" Sturgis asks.
AJ's head snaps up. "How did you hear about that?" he asks.
"Lt. Singer."
"Figures," both Mac and AJ mutter under their breath. "Actually we did start off with that one," AJ admits ruefully. "We then progressed to the death of Lt. Schonke and the first meeting between the Colonel and Commander."
"I would have liked to have been around for that one," Sturgis comments. "I expect he was pretty dumfounded when he saw you standing there."
"It was almost funny really. I had heard about this hotshot lawyer who was an ex-fighter pilot—how he hardly ever lost a case and was so eloquent in court. Then I meet him and all he could do was stand there with his mouth hanging open. I had been prepared to dislike him immediately, instead I had a long glimpse into Harm the person before he foisted his usual crap on me," Mac smiles at the memory.
"He didn't know until right before he met you that he was even getting a new partner. I sprung Bud on him first because they had met before. I just didn't expect his reaction to you. After what you just told me, if finally makes sense." He breaks off, Mac and AJ caught in past memories, Sturgis attempting to imagine what it was like. "You know, I told the two of you not to get too close; sometimes I wish I'd kept that to myself."
Mac and Sturgis look at AJ surprised. "Sir?" Mac questions.
"Never mind," he says embarrassed; he hadn't meant to say that thought out loud.
Mac observes his embarrassment, but vows to pursue the subject at another time. Now she says, "It's getting late. Sturgis, I believe we should leave the admiral to his paperwork and go home to regroup. We might find something tomorrow that we missed today."
Sturgis graciously takes the hint and agrees. They say their goodnights to AJ and leave, but not before he flashes Mac a grateful look. She manages a small smile of acknowledgement and slips out the door with Sturgis.
'Thank goodness I don't have to explain that one,' AJ muses to himself. 'It's a good thing Harm didn't hear it or I would have had to make something up. But I wonder…will Mac leave it alone or is she going to corner me on it later? I think Rabb's direct approach is preferable in this situation, at least I wouldn't have to worry about a Marine sneaking up on me at some unsuspected moment…' His thoughts trail off as he contemplates the differences in his officers' approaches to problems.
xxx
Harm lies on the mattress, trying to sleep. The drugs coursing through his veins are causing his cheek and ribs to throb. The situation is not helped by the shove Palmer gleefully gave him into the tiny room, causing him to twist to avoid hitting the sloping ceiling head-on. He is immensely grateful—for a while at least—when he feels the effects of the mild sedative Palmer must have put in the drugs.
The nightmares begin almost as soon as he falls asleep. Images from the past mix with visions of possible futures and pure fantasy. The first images are of his first Tomcat crash; the same as the memories he's worked long and hard to banish, only to have them return now in his dreams.
From the fiery crash, the voice of his long-dead RIO berates and the face he'll never forget looks on him with a mixture of sadness and anger in his eyes. In his sleep, Harm begs Mace to forgive him for his failure.
After a while, the face and voice fade away, leaving darkness in their wake. Light is shed on the scene by way of a door opening. Harm watches as a man in a tattered and torn flight suit is tossed into the small cell. The closing of the door does not remove the light and Harm is able to see the man clearly when he turns his way. Shocked, Harm knows in an instant that he is looking at his father—sometime shortly after his capture. Pain crosses his features when he attempts to move, and Harm notices for the first time the mess his leg is in.
Other scenes of his father mix with the others through the night. Fact or fantasy, Harm isn't sure of anything but the man in his dreams is hurting both physically and mentally.
Pure fantasy are the glimpses of Mac and him, together as a family. These segments begin benignly, but quickly morph into the nightmares they really are. In most something destroys the family he longs for and he's left alone. In a few, Mac is the one left alone, and he experiences her pain and anguish through his dreams.
The dreams taken from his memories are no less painful. He relives the many missions he's flown in glaring detail. Occasionally, he gets a glimpse of what might have been had he made a different decision on those missions. He relives the night spent in the ocean, shivering despite the warmth in the little room.
The images that come next are fresh in his mind. The mine field, the bombing they almost got caught in and the mission he flew off the Seahawk—each of these play through his dreams, each one with endings different from those actually experienced. In the mine field, Mac jumps out of the Humvee directly onto another mine; that evening they are oblivious to the approach of the bombs dropping near them; after launching from the Seahawk, he's unable to divert the missile and it destroys the ship.
Try as he might, he cannot wake as these and other images play through his dreams over and over. Shortly before dawn—although without windows in the small room it is impossible to tell, a disturbing image of Mac unknowingly in peril causes him to cry out. Heart racing, he wakes, his hand blindly searching for the phone to warn Mac before he realizes where he is.
The terror of sleep has left him sweaty and shivering. He sits in the dark, knees drawn to his chest with arms wrapped around them, determined not to go back to sleep. The throbbing from his abused ribs—further strained as he was thrashing about in the midst of his nightmares—may be enough to keep him awake, but he concentrates on the task, latching onto any excuse to keep him from dwelling on the dreams. Much to his disgusted relief, he doesn't have long to wait. An irritated Banes arrives not long after he wakes to take him back to the room where the files await.
xxxx
Harm tackles things head-on. He'll jump right into the middle of the situation, seemingly without a plan, and look for the way out when he's gotten as far as he can go—which is usually farther than he should have—hence the numerous reprimands in his file. His impulsiveness has gotten him into trouble many times, but has also allowed him to win what some might consider more than his fair share of cases.
Mac likes to take an overall look at the situation before plunging in. She usually has a plan that aids her in avoiding the pitfalls her partner tends to fall prey to. Where Harm leads with his heart in his cases, Mac leads with her head. Mac's planning has enabled her to mislead Harm on several occasions and pull out a victory in court. Separately, they are two of the best lawyers he's ever seen. Together they make an unbeatable team.
As he's watched them over the years, AJ has seen their partnership grow into friendship and beyond. What he doesn't understand is that why, with everything that has happened with them, they haven't taken the next step. He'd hate to lose one of his best officers, and break up his best team, but he believes the two are meant for more than just friendship.
He looks down at the notice he was reading when Mac found him earlier. It is from the captain of the Seahawk. Harm is being considered for the Silver Star and a special promotion for his actions to save the Seahawk. He contemplates that if the second item comes through, he will indeed lose the man he will always feel is the Navy's top litigator and break up his best team anyway. The note the SecNav added suggests having Rabb replace Arams at the Pentagon. Maybe he'd still be able to help out at JAG on occasion…
AJ's thoughts turn to the last of his senior officers. Sturgis Turner has been under his command for a year now and has yet to be called on the carpet for anything. His approach is by the book, all his moves carefully planned, double checked and executed precisely as planned. AJ has never seen him in a crisis situation and wonders how he will perform when one comes up. He briefly ponders the sense of humor he's noticed in the otherwise straight-laced officer fits in with the careful planner. 'He was so earnest when he declared he was Alec Baldwin,' AJ laughs to himself. 'If the situation hadn't been so tense, I believe everyone present would have had a good laugh at that. But he did come through and locate the Vasilev and sink her.' AJ doubts he will have problems with Sturgis bending the rules, although he has heard there are some tales of Sturgis and Harm at the Academy he might not believe.
One of the things it's hard for him to believe is what has happened to Lt. Roberts. He's watched Bud grow from an insecure young man into an accomplished lawyer and dedicated family man. Bud learned from the best—having years to observe Harm and Mac both as a team and opposing one another. Having a family has helped mature him just as having Harm and Mac as friends as well as mentors has given him a strong beginning to what could be a great career as a lawyer—if he can overcome his injuries.
Guilt floods AJ as he recalls how he pushed for Bud to take an assignment away from HQ—away from his family and those who have helped him along his path. He still believes it was the right career choice, but he is wondering what it will do to the man and his family. Granted, he had no idea Bud would be injured, but duty—especially duty on a carrier—can be hazardous even for a JAG. AJ contemplates the rumors he's heard about Harm having a run-in with a land mine while he and Mac were in country. He recalls the convoluted explanation offered the morning after they were thought lost, and his abrupt dismissal of the chain of events that lead to them being stranded—and nearly killed in a bombing run—overnight in the Afghan desert. How would things be different if it were Harm, not Bud, who didn't walk away unharmed? He is sure the Roberts are strong, but how much can one family endure?
He is startled out of his thoughts by a knock on the still open door. He looks up and is surprised to see Clayton Webb regarding him strangely. "What?" he barks, not wanting the agent to know he was startled.
"I've been standing here 5 minutes AJ. We're ready to start, I just need the key to Rabb's office," he says, unsuccessfully hiding a smirk.
AJ takes the requested item from his desk and holds it out. "Did you find anything at his apartment?" he asks, holding on to the key when Webb attempts to take it.
"Let me get this key to my team and I'll come back and fill you in." AJ nods and lets Webb take the key. He's back a minute later and settles into one of the chairs in front of AJ's desk.
"We didn't find much at the apartment. There are a number of fingerprints that we'll check out. Nothing obvious was left behind—I would have expected Mac and the Commander to have found it if there were—but there were a couple spots of something on the floor. The lab has samples of those now, but I won't have results for at least 24 hours." He pauses a beat. "What exactly are you hoping to find?"
"Corroboration that Rabb didn't leave the apartment willingly. Eyewitnesses reporting that he looked unhappy won't cut it. I need a definite. I'm not sure how the SecNav is going to take it all, and I want something solid to give him to prove my top officer didn't just go off with knowledge that could destroy the country."
"If I recall, they jumped on it pretty quickly when it looked like Rabb wrote that op ed piece, didn't they?"
"Yes. And now that the SecNav's role in Afghanistan—and subsequently this office's involvement—is under review, I don't want anyone to come to the mistaken conclusion that Rabb simply chose to go UA with that information."
"Are you sure he didn't?" asks Webb.
AJ nearly explodes over his desk at Webb, stopping himself with difficulty. "What the hell kind of question is that?" he thunders. "You know as well as I do that he wouldn't so such a thing."
Webb forces himself not to flinch as the full fury of the ex-SEAL washes over him. "It's a fair question AJ," he says mildly. "What do you really feel about this situation?"
The mild tone stops AJ's anger cold, so quickly Webb can see it dissipating from his body; his shoulders slump, his eyes close and he sighs a defeated sigh. "Until someone proves it to me otherwise, I will not even entertain the idea that Harm went willingly with Palmer, Hodge and Sturtevant, no matter what was at stake—he had to have been forced in some way. I just don't know how to convince anyone else of this without proof—proof that I need ASAP."
Webb nods. "For the record, I can't imagine Rabb doing it either. And I will push for the results just as much as I can, without compromising the results."
Webb exits the office to check on his team. AJ returns to his contemplations—this time the man who just walked out the door is the subject. Although he has been fed up with Webb for getting his people—namely Harm and Mac—involved in things a couple of lawyers shouldn't be involved in, he can see the dedication he gives to his country and his job is just as strong as what he and his top officers give to theirs. But while he is not sure if Webb is loyal more to a company than to a country, he is certain his officers have enough respect for their 'company' to put their country first. His officers—with the exception maybe of Singer—would give their lives, not only for their country, but also to save one another. Rabb has shown such selflessness on several occasions—the most recent being the incident with the dirty nuke. Had Harm not been able to divert the nuke, he would have lost two—possibly three—of the people he's come to think of as his family.
That thought stops him for a moment. Just when did they go from being officers under his command to family? It had to have been a feeling that began early in their acquaintance because, looking back he realizes he's gone farther for Harm, Mac and Bud than any other's he's had in his command before. Add Tiner, Harriet, Sturgis and even Gunny Galindez and he feels as though his family is complete. Oh, sure, he'd never hesitate to ream one of them out when they deserve it, but he sometimes feels that is the last thing he wants to do—just like a father wanting to teach his children a lesson, or punish them for doing wrong, but not wanting to break their spirit by becoming too harsh. Why isn't it easy to find the middle ground and still maintain the discipline necessary to keep things functioning properly?
He snaps himself out of his revere. 'This isn't getting any of these files completed,' he berates himself. No sooner does he turn his attention to the files on his desk does Webb return; finishing up a conversation on his cell. "Thank you. I'd appreciate it if you would keep me informed," he says into the handset before ending the conversation.
AJ actually completes the first file, affixing his signature and setting it aside before asking Webb about what his crew might have found—or not found.
"There are a lot of fingerprints; other than that, nothing. Now this may sound a little farfetched, but I'd like to have a check done on the inside of his safe. Do you have access?"
"I have a way to get in," AJ answers somewhat cryptically. "What exactly are you looking for?"
"I'm hoping proof that Rabb had to allow Palmer in his safe. That's the only place that hasn't already been searched. My thought is that if Palmer brought Rabb here for something—most likely the Arams papers—he may have had him open the safe, but he wouldn't have allowed him to reach inside. We got two sets off the handle, but only one off the dial itself. If that second set turns out to be Palmers, and if we also find his prints inside, it could be the proof we're both looking for."
AJ considers the implications of what Webb is saying. "I believe most of what is in the safe is not highly classified, but I'd rather not take any chances. I would prefer if you would have a single technician who is cleared for sensitive materials perform the tests."
Webb doesn't even hesitate, "I have someone who fits that description. He had to give up field work when he got caught in the middle of a firefight a few years ago. He opted to move to research instead of retiring, and insisted on being trained to do forensics because he still wanted to get out in the field occasionally. He handles our most sensitive documents and has been called in to brief the President on several occasions. Is that satisfactory?" he asks almost, but not quite, sarcastically.
"Better than I thought you could produce," AJ admits. "Let's get it done." He opens his safe, removes a small black book from the corner and heads to Harm's office with Webb trailing behind.
In anticipation of AJ's request, Webb has already cleared out the majority of his crew; only one man remains. "Would you excuse us for a moment, Bob?" Webb asks. Without comment the man exits the office and closes the door behind him. Webb pointedly turns his back as AJ consults the little black book and opens Harm's safe.