January 30, 2004
Force Judge Advocate's Office – London
1303 Greenwich/ 0803 Eastern
Harm walked back into the office following his return from lunch, collecting the incoming messages from Simpkins as he passed his yeoman. Crossing over to his desk, Harm removed the current stack from the In box and put the new stack in, save for a few marked Urgent. The old ones went on top of that stack, face down. This way, Harm was dealing with the documents in the order that they had come in, only disturbing the flow for really important items.
Fortunately, today hadn't produced anything falling into that category, so he would be able to hopefully clear the contents of the basket before the end of the day. Many of the documents were informational, things that he needed to pass on to the personnel in the office. Others were case reviews that had finally been completed and were awaiting his endorsement before being filed away. And some were case updates from the various offices that fell under his jurisdiction.
Days like these bored the hell out of Harm, because of his dislike of paperwork. Still, he took the view that days like these also meant that nobody was getting into trouble sufficient to justify the attention of his office. So, there was that to take away from this, as new cases would almost always be marked as Urgent. The sound of the intercom buzzing ended that thought, as Harm reached for it.
"Yes, Simpkins?" Harm asked.
"General Creswell on line 2, Sir," Simpkins said.
Harm reached for the phone and pressed the correct button to pick it up.
"Captain Rabb, Sir."
"Well, good afternoon, Captain. I just finished reading through the reports submitted by Major McBurney and Admiral Morris regarding the Krennick court-martial," Creswell said. "Admiral Morris was especially impressed with how well both you and the staff there handled the situation."
"I'm happy to hear that, Sir, but I would hope that the staff of any office would have handled it in the same manner," Harm said.
"So would I, but I'm realistic enough to know that's not always going to be the case. Sexual harassment is always a good topic for scuttlebutt and then you add in the attempt on Commander Alexander's life and I'm surprised that tongues weren't wagging."
"Well, I like to think my instructions to the personnel here made it clear where I stood."
"Oh, and what were your instructions?" Creswell asked, curious as to what Harm might have said.
"That they were to let Admiral Morris, Colonel Coffman and Commander Alexander do their jobs, to answer any questions that they might have and unless asked specifically to assistance, to stay out of their way," Harm told him.
Creswell had to laugh at that. Those instructions could have been written by him. He did have to wonder, if the situation had been reversed, what would Krennick's orders to the office personnel have been. Even more importantly, would they have listened to her? How much of their obeying those orders had been due to the orders being clear and making sense and how much lay with the person delivering them.
"And what about having Lieutenant Walker assist NCIS after the attack on Commander Alexander, Captain? How did that fit in to those orders?"
"Given the circumstances, I wanted to make sure NCIS had any assistance they might need. Because of Lieutenant Walker being new to the office, she was a logical choice. No ties to either me or Captain Krennick that might prejudice her opinions in the case. Also, I made it clear that she was to assist NCIS, but that it was their case."
"Yes, Director Morrow apprised me of that fact. He also thanked me for your office staying out of the investigation and said that his Agent Weber was impressed with Lieutenant Walker," Creswell said. "I guess after everything that happened in the Singer investigation, he figured you'd have an ax to grind with his agency."
"No, Sir. In fact, if Agent Gibbs hadn't had his team keep digging, I'd likely be in a cell in Leavenworth right now instead of in London," Harm said. "If you think you need to, you can assure Director Morrow that I have nothing but respect for Agent Weber and his team."
"I doubt he needs it after this, but I'll be sure to pass it along. Now, the next thing I need to talk with you about is the projected movement of your office from London to Naples next year. The initial budget request sent by your office didn't factor that in, I believe."
"In what way, General?"
"How are you planning to get your personnel, their dependents and possessions there, for one? Second, the office itself needs to be packed up and shipped. Have you considered how you're planning on doing that?" Creswell asked, suppressing a desired laugh at the silence on the other end of the line. "Welcome to the wonderful world of command. Or did you think Admiral Kieso and his staff were going to handle that for you?"
"Actually, Sir, I did think that NAVFOREUR would be responsible for that," Harm said. "I mean, the entire staff is being moved, so I just assumed…."
"Ah, yes, the dreaded assumptions. You do know what happens when you assume, don't you?"
"I make an ass out of you and me?"
With that, both men couldn't help it and had to laugh.
"My suggestion is check with Admiral Kieso and his staff. Your office very well may be factored into their plans, but you need to know that. More importantly, I need to know, so that I can make certain the money is in JAG's budget if we're handling it ourselves," Creswell said.
"I'll see if I can get in and see him today, Sir, and let you know," Harm said.
"Good. Lastly, I've decided to have annual conferences for the various FJAs, SJAs and their deputies. Have a couple of guest speakers in to cover some hot topics and generally give everyone a chance to meet their colleagues in a somewhat informal environment."
"And when will this be, General? Or hasn't that been decided?"
"Actually, it will be in June out in San Diego. The memo is going out tomorrow, but I figured I'd tell you while I have you on the telephone," Creswell said.
"Understood, Sir," Harm responded.
"Get me that information ASAP, Captain."
With that, Creswell hung up, leaving Harm to stare at the telephone before replacing the receiver. No sooner had he done that than the telephone rang again.
"Force Judge Advocate's Office, Captain Rabb speaking."
"Ah, Captain, my name is Mary Hunt. I'm the nursing supervisor for the Intensive Care Unit at Guy's Hospital," came an older woman's voice over the telephone.
"How may I assist you, Ms. Hunt?" Harm asked, starting to stand, fearing what this call could mean as his thoughts instantly turned to Beth and Mattie.
"A member of your staff, a Miss Alexander, is a patient of mine. She's started to come out of her coma and there's a note on her file to have your office contacted when this occurred."
"Thank you very much, Ms. Hunt. I'll be there directly."
Hanging up the telephone, Harm raced from the office, pausing only long enough to grab his coat and cover and let Simpkins know where he would be. Simpkins watched him go before picking up the telephone and cancelling the Captain's schedule for the day.
Guy's Hospital – London, England
1526 Greenwich/ 1026 Eastern
Harm sat on a chair outside of the ICU, waiting while the doctors finished their examination of Commander Alexander. It was the best that he could have asked for, given that he wasn't immediate family. Those individuals, Harm was shocked to discover, had never come to London to be with her. But then, he didn't really know the Commander at all, so who knew what lay behind that. Certainly, if it had been him lying in that bed, his mother, Frank and grandmother would have been there as soon as they could have.
The doors opened, as Harm stood to face them. Both doctors came over to him, waving for him to sit down.
"As I understand things, you are Miss Alexander's commanding officer?" the older of the two said. "And she has no family present?"
"Yes, I am Commander Alexander's CO. As for her family, none have come over since this occurred," Harm said.
"Very well, Sir. As Ms. Hart informed you, Commander Alexander has begun to awaken. At present, she's back asleep, but she is no longer in the coma. When we examined her, she was responsive but also experiencing difficulties."
"Such as, Doctor?"
"Her memory, most importantly. Also, she is experiencing headaches and having some difficulty focusing her attention for more than a few minutes," the young doctor said.
"How bad is the memory loss?" Harm asked.
"She knows basic things. Man, woman, light, dark, hurt. When I asked for more detailed things is when she had difficulty, as well as finding the right words. She had some difficulty remembering her own name. We hope that this improves now that she's awake and her body appears ready to process stimulus."
"Can I see her?"
"Like I said, she's presently sleeping. I think it would be best for her to continue to do so, to allow her body to heal," the older doctor said, while the other doctor nodded in agreement.
"What she needs is time, Sir. Think of her brain as a computer that has crashed. The coma was the computer restarting itself. Right now is the time where her brain is talking to all the parts of the body, seeing what's there and if it works. Once it's done all of that, then it will start working on reestablishing all the old pathways in itself and making new ones for those that were damaged. But this all takes time, which is the rest periods when the body is healing itself," the younger doctor said.
"So, when should I stop back?" Harm asked, deferring to the experts.
"How about Monday? Give her tomorrow and Sunday to rest, then it should be alright for you to visit with her. However, keep the visit short and if you see her tiring, leave."
"Thank you, doctors."
The two men nodded at Harm before going back into the ICU. For his part, Harm collected his coat and cover and left the hospital. Going outside, he hailed a taxi to take him back to his office, where he intended to go through Commander Alexander's service record. He was curious about the fact that her family wasn't here. If she was suffering from memory loss, who better to help her through it than those closest to her.
Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England
1855 Greenwich/ 1355 Eastern
Harm stared at the computer screen, before picking up the telephone to make a call.
"JAG Ops, Petty Officer Dodd speaking, Sir."
"Petty Officer, my name is Captain Harmon Rabb. I need to speak with General Creswell, please," Harm said.
"One moment, Sir," the young woman's voice said.
"Creswell."
"General, Rabb here, Sir. I have an update on Commander Alexander's condition as well as a request, Sir."
"How is the Commander?" Creswell asked.
"She's out of the coma, Sir. However, she's having some troubles with her memory and when I went over to visit her, she was back asleep. The doctors I spoke with seem to view this as normal, considering her head injury and seem hopeful that she'll slowly put the various pieces back together," Harm reported.
"I see, Captain. Were you able to see her?"
"No, Sir. As I said, she was asleep when I got there. The doctors requested that I come back on Monday, to give her a couple of days to rest and let her mind heal."
"Very well. Now what was the request that you had, Captain?" Creswell asked.
"I pulled up Commander Alexander's personnel records, looking for next of kin. She has her parents on there, but no one has come over since the shooting occurred. Has her family been notified about her condition, Sir?" Harm asked.
"Yes, Captain. In fact, I called them after Admiral Morris informed me of what had happened and her father hung up as soon as I told him my name. Also, a notification team went to their house and nobody answered the door. The officer in charge told me they could hear people moving about inside, but repeated knocks and ringing of the doorbell were all ignored."
"That's a little strange, isn't it?"
"I thought so too, until I contacted the Commander's deputy out in San Diego. Turns out Commander Alexander's brother was a Marine Captain, serving in Afghanistan. He was killed last year in a firefight. Her family blamed the Commander for talking him into joining the military and when she came back from his funeral, the person I talked to described her as withdrawn, depressed and working to cover the pain," Creswell said.
"Still, I think that the Commander's recovery would be aided by having people around her who can help her rebuild her memories, Sir. I barely know her, she barely knows me," Harm said.
"I quite understand the situation, Captain. I can't make any promises, but I will try my best to get someone over there, even if it's just a friend."
"I appreciate that, Sir. And I think the Commander would too."
"I'll let you know, Captain," Creswell said before hanging up the telephone. Harm was left to look at his receiver for a moment before hanging up the telephone. With that done, he shut down the computer and decided to call it a day. There was little more he could accomplish regarding Commander Alexander, having put things in the General's hands. As for the paperwork still occupying his desk, he would just have to get to it on Monday.
Little did Harm know that the General was jumping full steam into the matter. As a Marine officer, he'd been trained that the welfare of his people was paramount. Now that he was the JAG, all Navy and Marine Corps JAG officers anywhere in the world were his people. One of those officers was lying in a hospital bed right now and he was going to move heaven and earth to get that person the support they needed.
His first step was to call out to San Diego and talk with the officer who had given him the scoop on Commander Alexander. He told him that orders were being cut for indefinite TDY and that another officer would be going to San Diego to help fill the breach until he returned. The officer would be going to London, to help Commander Alexander.
After he completed that call, he placed another down to Quantico. This one was to Major McBurney, sending him TDY to San Diego to fill in. McBurney didn't mind at all, since San Diego was likely to be warmer than Quantico right now. Besides, this was a chance to run an office and if he performed well, it would be an asset when the promotion board sat this year.
This was followed by Creswell having his yeoman get him a flight to Commander Alexander's hometown. He was going to go there and he didn't intend on leaving until he had spoken with her parents. Once they knew, it was their choice as to whether they wished to go to London or not, but he knew if that was his daughter in that bed, he'd be there no matter what.
February 2, 2004
Guy's Hospital – London, England
0803 Greenwich/ 0303 Eastern
Harm came down the hall leading to the ICU, his cover under his arm as he walked. He didn't have any idea as to the visiting hours for the unit and could only hope that he would be allowed in. He'd decided on stopping now, so that he could make another stop in the evening if necessary. Going to the door, he pressed the buzzer and waited. After a moment, the door was opened by a nurse who looked at him.
"How may I help you, Sir?" the nurse asked politely.
"I don't know if it is possible, but I would like to visit with a patient of yours. Lyn Alexander," Harm said.
"She actually has a visitor at the moment, but I can let you in as well as long as you promise to be quiet and leave if she starts to tire."
"Of course, Ma'am."
The nurse led Harm down a short hall and showed him to the room that Commander Alexander was in. Sitting next to her bed was a man a few years younger than Harm, wearing the uniform of a Navy Lieutenant Commander. He was holding Commander Alexander's hand in his, lightly rubbing the back of it with his thumb as he spoke quietly to her.
"What else do you remember?" he asked.
"You and I work together," Alexander answered.
"That's right. Do you remember where?"
"Dago."
"San Diego, that's right. San Diego, California," he told her.
"San Diego," Alexander parroted, trying to remember the word.
"Don't worry, Lyn. You'll get it. Now what else?"
"You make good food."
The man laughed at that, as did Harm, which caused the pair of them to notice that they were no longer alone. As soon as the man saw who it was, he dropped Alexander's hand like it was on fire and jumped to attention.
"At ease, Commander," Harm said as he came fully into the room. "As you were."
The Lieutenant Commander sat down but did not take Alexander's hand back into his own, earning a frown from the Commander.
"It's nice to see you're awake, Commander."
"Thank you," Alexander said. "Do I know you?"
"We've met, briefly. I'm Captain Harmon Rabb, I'm the FJA here in London. Do you remember coming to London?" Harm asked.
"No. Until David told me where I was, I thought I was home in Toledo."
"Do you remember what you do?"
"Not really. I think it has to do with the law, but…" Alexander said.
"That's fine, Commander. Things will come back with time," Harm said.
"Why do you call me Commander?"
"That's your rank. You're a Commander in the Navy."
"And you're a Captain?" Alexander asked. "Is that higher or lower?"
"It's one rank higher," Harm told her with a smile.
Commander Alexander closed her eyes at that, trying to process the information. Harm decided that was enough for right now, not wanting her to overtax herself on his account.
"I'll leave you for the moment, Commander. If you need anything, the nurses' station has my contact information."
"Thank you," came a tired reply.
"I'll walk you out, Sir," the man said as he got up. "I'll be back in a moment."
Both Harm and the man exited the room and went down the hall to the door to the unit. Once they were outside, Harm stopped and waited.
"Sir…."
"Don't say another word, Commander. I wasn't here, I didn't see anything and I don't want to know anything about what your relationship with Commander Alexander might be," Harm said as he took in the mill rind's on the man's cuffs. "You were in a situation that you believed was private and you were simply holding a hurt friend's hand, that is all, correct?"
"Sir, yes, Sir," the man said.
"Good man. Now, why don't you get back in there and keep Commander Alexander company?"
"Aye, aye, Sir."
With that, Harm left the Lieutenant Commander and made his way to the elevators. The Lieutenant Commander just stood there, slightly shocked that nothing more was going to be said about what the Captain had to have seen. Counting his blessings, he turned and made his way back to the ICU. Getting back to Lyn's room, he found her sound asleep, so he returned to his chair and settled back to watch her while his mind drifted. Part of him was scared at how close he'd come to losing her, while another part was furious at not having heard about the attack on her sooner, so he could have been here for her.
When the nurse stopped by to check on her patient, she smiled as she caught sight of the pair each sleeping. Getting a blanket from the closet, she put it over the man before turning and leaving.
JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, Virginia
1157 Greenwich/ 0657 Eastern
The few personnel in the office jumped to attention as General Creswell strode through the bullpen on the way to his office. His call of "At ease" was almost immediate. His only pause was at the desk of his yeoman, who wasn't yet in, where he picked up a stack of unorganized documents that had been placed there by the night staff. Flipping quickly through them, he took the few important ones with him while leaving the rest.
Going into his office, Creswell sat down behind the desk and read the papers, signing off on a few while placing others aside for further action. Still, he knew instinctively that he was delaying his phone call to London. Yet, he also didn't relish having to tell Rabb that he'd failed to make any headway with Commander Alexander's family.
He and his wife Dora had arrived in Toledo, Ohio on Friday evening and spent the night in a hotel before driving to the Alexander family home on Saturday morning. When they had arrived, they were instantly confronted by a man who told them to leave and not come back. Creswell had attempted to explain the situation, but the man had turned his back on them and walked from where he was shoveling the sidewalk on up to the house. Going inside, he'd slammed the door behind him. Creswell, however, wasn't about to be deterred. He had a duty to perform and was going to make another attempt to carry it out. So, he went up to the house and knocked on the door. And knocked and knocked.
What finally stopped Creswell was the sound of sirens approaching. Turning, he was shocked to see four Toledo police cars pulling up, surrounding the house and his rental car. While two sets of officers approached the vehicle and his wife, the other two pairs came up to him with hands on their weapons. It was only as one of the officers, a Sergeant, caught sight of the uniform that Creswell was wearing that he motioned for the rest of the officers to stand down.
"What seems to be the problem, Sergeant?" Creswell asked, having seen the stripes on the man's jacket and correctly deducing the officer's rank.
"We received a phone call reporting a man attempting to break into a house, Sir," the Sergeant said.
Creswell's eyebrows rose at that comment.
"May I ask what brings you here, Sir?" the Sergeant then asked.
"We've been attempting to notify Commander Lyn Alexander's parents that their daughter was shot two weeks ago in London. The first team that tried was not acknowledged, nor were repeated telephone calls. She's in my chain of command, so I decided to make a personal visit. When we arrived today, a man told us to leave and not come back, but I can't do that."
"I knew Lyn, went to high school with her. We weren't exactly friends, but I know her family. Let me try and talk to Mr. Alexander."
With that, the Sergeant went up to the house and knocked once. When the door was opened, the man who had confronted Creswell stood there pointing at him, clearly angry. Creswell watching, unable to hear the words that were being exchanged, but the message was clear. The man wasn't interested in hearing anything. Finally the Sergeant shook his head and walked away, while the man slammed the door once again.
"I'm sorry, General, but I got as far as Lyn's name and that was it. As far as Mr. Alexander is concerned, he doesn't have a daughter named Lyn. His only living child is his son Patrick, who's a science teacher somewhere in Michigan, last I heard," the Sergeant said. "When I said her name again is when he told me to leave."
"Do you know anything about the family that might help me?" Creswell asked.
"Not really, Sir. I'm sorry."
"I understand, Sergeant, thank you."
With nothing further to accomplish, Creswell got back in his car and drove off. His wife recognized the signs and elected to stay silent for the drive back to the hotel. There, the couple packed before driving to the airport in Detroit and catching a flight back to Washington.
Creswell had then spent his Sunday trying to figure out another approach, one that wouldn't make a bad situation even worse. By the time dinner was ready, he was still no closer to an answer. How do you get a family to talk to you when they don't want to? The answer was you can't.
Picking up the telephone, Creswell called London and filled Harm in on the situation as it stood.