General Cresswell Takes a Licking and Stops Ticking

by Paul Decker

Cresswell wants to turn JAG into a Marine green staff starting with the Navy staff's leader, Harm. To do this the General devises a survival exercise that will allow his henchman, Bull Wilson, to capture Harm, beat him, and use his subsequent accusations as the excuse to transfer him out

General Cresswell sat in his office with a furled brow reviewing the rifle and pistol scores on the report from the Range Master at Quantico showing his performance as well as that of his senior lawyers. He had decided that since all three of his senior staff were frequently getting assignments that took them into both the Iraq and Afghanistan combat zones, it was important that they knew how to shoot. In addition, both Rabb and MacKenzie had already be been in active combat situations. He reflected back to the two ambushes Rabb had experienced and the one attack on a base camp that MacKenzie was involved in. Seems like Rabb is a magnet for trouble, he thought with a chuckle. He had expected the report to show that his two squids couldn't shoot for beans and that as Marines, both he and MacKenzie would no doubt have far better scores. His expectations proved to be only partially true. As expected, Turner had scored poorly. Just what would you expect from a submariner? Probably lucky to do that well, he thought. However, Rabb's scores were a different story. His scores far and away exceeded MacKenzie's scores as well as his own. According to the report, Rabb scored 290 with a rifle and 295 with a pistol as compared to his rifle and pistol scores of 245 and 265 and MacKenzie's scores of 255 and 270 respectively.

Late that same day, he called all three into his office to brief them on their marksmanship scores. "Here are your scores from Quantico. Overall, they were quite good with the exception of Turner's. Sturgis, you will be given an intense marksman training course at Quantico after the next phase of your training to improve your shooting. I have arranged to have all three of you attend the Marine Ambush Course at Quantico. I chose this course because studies indicate that the most common encounter you are likely to have with the enemy is in a convoy ambush. This course will show you the techniques to avoid an ambush whenever possible and also show you techniques to survive an ambush when avoidance fails. Rabb, I know you have been caught in two ambushes, but there is always more to learn. MacKenzie, I am sure you have had at least some ambush training as part of your regular Marine training, but a refresher is in order," said the General.

"As a part of this course will there be any survival skills training, sir?" asked Harm. He continued, "A couple of the Marines I was with when we were ambushed mentioned that they were forced to go to ground after previous ambushes for a couple of days to avoid capture until rescue units either fought their way into the ambush site and found them or after a search."

"No, this course covers only ambush techniques. Down the way, time permitting, we will try to squeeze the three of you into a survival skills school." said Cresswell.

Just a Harm was putting away his files for the evening, Cresswell appeared at his door. "Commander, your marksmanship scores could practically earn you a spot in the Marine Sniper School or even its National Marksmanship Team. How did you get to be such a good shot?"

"Well sir, believe it or not my grandmother taught me to shoot a .22 on her farm. Jasper the cat was in charge of killing mice and rats in the hen house and farm house while I was responsible for dealing with the rats and mice in the barn and outbuildings. I should point out the my Jack Russell terrier, Kip, was unusually good at ferreting out the vermin and set up many a shot for me. After three years of living on the farm, I was getting to be quite good. I consistently won shooting competitions both at the town and county fairs in my age bracket. When I was 16, I spent my summer vacation in Vietnam searching for my MIA dad. As it turned out, I was looking in the wrong place, but that is a story for another day. When I arrived, I tied up with Colonel Francis Stryker and his team of veterans who were searching for MIAs as well. In addition to learning how to handle myself in the jungle, I also got an up close and personal introduction to the M16 and AK47. I learned how to strip 'em, clean 'em, and more importantly, how to shoot 'em. The occasional firefights we got into further honed my shooting skills. So now aiming a pistol or rifle and hitting the target is just second nature to me." explained Rabb.

"Let me get this straight, YOU went to Vietnam as a teenager and successfully operated with one of the legends of the Marine Corps for a whole summer! That is just incredible. So you actually have at least some survival skills already." asked Cresswell.

"Yea, and as a result, the Naval Aviator's Survival Training School was pretty easy for me. Humping the jungle in the Philippines was no sweat although the bill of fare left much to be desired. In addition to the bugs, snakes, and being constantly wet, we were harassed by hostile force teams trying to capture us. Me and my partner, Big B Hasbury, were forced to turn the tables on some of the Marines assigned to these teams. These guys had a reputation for beating and caging anyone they captured so we wanted to give them a wide berth. When that became unavoidable, we turned the tables on them, tied their unconscious bodies to a telephone pole, took their uniforms, their jeep and went into Manila to spend time until the exercise was up." described Harm.

Two aviators taking two Marines! How is that possible? That is very hard for me to believe! Explain the circumstances." said the General.

"Actually four Marines, sir." said Rabb. "Well, lets just say that perhaps these Marines had been on shore duty a little too long and maybe were enjoying their assignment way too much. They were careless, constantly presented opportunities to attack them. They were much more interested in beating us and hurling insults than actually capturing and restraining us. My partner was a former running back for Arkansas and let me tell you, he was all muscle. When they starting using racial slurs, that got B's dander up. Faster than the eye can follow, he spun around, grabbed the first two by their necks and slammed their heads together so hard I swear their helmets rang like a bell. The second two stupidly came at us with their night sticks raised to strike us. I grabbed the one Marine's arm while B grabbed the other Marine's hand and squeezed it so hard the guy started to scream and dropped his stick. A quick round house to both of them ended the struggle. Probably in less than a minute. We decided that since we were simulating war conditions, and we were tired of getting soaked in the jungle eating bugs we had had enough and were leaving for more favorable places. Under the rules, we were entitled to defend ourselves and deal harshly with guys that seemed to get off on hurting aviators they caught. When this got around, maybe these guys would act more restrained in dealing with people they caught. So we stripped off the Marines' uniforms, tied them up so they were all hugging a telephone pole, threw away what uniform parts we didn't use, and took off in their jeep for Manila. The whole incident could have been much worse. B was so mad he wanted to climb the telephone pole and hang them all off the cross piece, but I persuaded him to cool it. I told him that we needed to be out of there before the next patrol came along. So off we went to Manila. Long story short, maxed out my credit card but had a great time. When we reported back to base, we were taken under guard to the head of survival school's office where he chewed us out for how we treated our tormenters. The defense we used to justify our actions was that in this exercise we were simulating wartime conditions and we were entitled to do whatever we wanted with captured enemy personnel except kill them. Our meeting ended by being admonished to refrain from doing it again. We later heard that we had scared the daylights out to the Marines and that aviators that were subsequently caught were treated much more humanely." said Harm with a broad smile.

For a squid to sit there and relive a story of beating up Marines, humiliating the Corps, and smiling while he told the tale really burned up Cresswell even though he did not show it outwardly. First, I will verify the story and secondly, I will devise a test to see just how good the Commander's survival skills really are. Actually a test would fit in well with some other things I plan to do, thought the JAG. Since the hour was growing late, the General bid Rabb good night and headed home.

The very next morning, the General was burning up the wires to all of his contacts in the Corps to either refute or verify Rabb's story. After a frustrating half day, he finally found a friend who vaguely remembered the incident and referred him to the retired officer, James Tuttle, who had commanded the company that acted as the enemy force during that time. It was obvious to Cresswell that the incident still angered Tuttle as he verified Rabb's account almost word for word.

"These two squids put two of my best men in the hospital with concussions and one of them broke another man's wrist while the other squid broke the fourth member of the patrol's jaw. Then they stripped off their uniforms, tied them up, left them bare assed naked, and stole their jeep. Just because my men got a little rough with them. What did they think survival training was, A PICNIC? The NVA would have been a lot rougher on them! The hell of it was they were not even punished! When we met with the JAG to prefer charges, the JAG said we had no case because the underlying instructions were that this was a wartime simulation and the aviators were therefore free to operate under wartime operating orders which included assaulting my Marines! After that, none of my men were nearly as aggressive as they should have been. Worse, the incident prompted a general review of the survival program that then required us to simply capture and detain those aviators we caught and get this, they introduced referees to make sure everyone played by the rules. REFEREES, can you believe it! Those review meetings got so bad, I thought we were going to wind up having to serve these squids coffee and donuts when we caught them!" stormed Tuttle.

After hanging up with the enraged, retired major, Cresswell was genuinely shaken. He remembered that when he first took command he had reviewed Rabb's file and found that he had successfully participated in some rugged assignments including an undercover assignment with Marine Force Recon company at Camp Pendleton commanded by one of the most decorated recon officers in the Corps, Captain Koonan, no less as well as a Seal Team 2 mission deep in Columbia that had entailed a Hi Lo parachute jump. In addition, he had participated in a number of CIA missions that were classified. Rabb is obviously a lot tougher than I originally thought. As he was driving home that night, a plan started to form in his head to see just how good Rabb really was. By the time he had finished his third Bourbon, he had developed it. We are going to have teams to play a form of capture the flag and I am going to use the results to transfer his ass out of headquarters. I need to get the ball rolling with a call, he thought.

At the officer's call the next morning, the General announced that as part of his JAG Survival Plan, he had reconsidered the need for survival skills and as a result, they were going to be evaluated on how much survival training they already had so they could be placed in the proper Survival Skills School when the opportunity arose. "The evaluation would take place at Quantico in the forested exercise areas. The evaluation would be in the form of a game of capture the flag. Teams of two would operate in the practice areas and attempt to penetrate the camp of the opposing team and steal their JAG flag. Each exercise would last 24 hours. No use of firearms would be allowed although naturally hand to hand combat would be allowed along with the use of training pyrotechnics, both for defense and offense. Both teams will square off against an opposing team. Turner and Roberts will be one team and Rabb and someone of his choice will comprise the second team. MacKenzie and I will be the first opposing team" said the General.

"Sir, the exercise is fine, but I am uncomfortable with the idea that I may have to actually fight a Major General. Frankly, I fear that I will be held liable for assaulting a superior officer and that would likely end my career. Especially if you were injured." said Rabb.

"Yes, I see your point. After a moment of reflection, he said, "The solution is to draw up a hold harmless agreement absolving you of any violation of military law for fighting during this training exercise. I will have one drawn up and sign it." replied the General.

After the meeting, Rabb returned to his office and immediately consulted his little black book. On the second page, he found the name and number he needed and proceeded to call to an old friend, Sergeant Ray Crockett, USMCR. "After three rings, the sergeant pick up. "Sergeant Crockett, this is a voice from the past, Commander Harmon Rabb. I need your help. I am currently serving under General Gordon Cresswell at JAG headquarters. Admiral Chedwidden has retired. As part of the General's survival program, he wants to basically play a game of capture the flag. Allegedly to determine skill levels so everyone can be placed in the proper Marine Survival Skills School. Since I am first up, I have to face off with someone of my choice against the General and Colonel MacKenzie. I know I am being paranoid, but something about this whole thing does not smell right. I really could use you and your special skills to help me deal with this exercise. Will you help me out?"

"Well, Commander I have only been retired three months so I am still in shape to hump the training area. When is this exercise? asked Crockett.

"Two weeks starting on the 21st," said Rabb.

"Yea, I'll do it. I served in Beirut with Cresswell and I wouldn't mind going up against him. Lousy duty Beirut. Can you come down on the 20th and bring all your briefing materials with you so we can layout our campaign? You can stay over with me. Let me give you my address," replied the sergeant.

Harm was more than relieved that Crockett was available. Something about the way Cresswell briefed the exercise had triggered his little inner voice that said, something stinks here. I am going to need the best person I can get to survive this operation. And now I have got him, thought Harm as he settled into his daily work flow.

The next two weeks passed normally for Rabb. The only difference was the elevated number of meetings Cresswell had with Mac. Gently probing Mac was for naught as the tight lipped chief of staff deflected each attempt with a smile and sealed lips. Finally the 20th came and Harm was on his way to Quantico to meet with Crockett. Getting the day off was surprisingly easy and was granted immediately without the usual twenty questions. A good omen for this exercise? Perhaps, but he wouldn't bank on it.

Rabb found Crockett's house in Dale City with no trouble. As he pulled up, the sergeant came out on the porch to greet him. "Morning Commander. I see you brought enough gear for three exercises," he said with a laugh.

"Better too much than too little, Gunny. Its about time for chow. Why don't we go somewhere and eat while I brief you on what I know," said the aviator.

Crockett climbed in the SUV and they headed for a small place that served great lunches and dinners at a cheap price. Over lunch Harm laid out everything he knew, which wasn't much. Tomorrow morning they would report to the base helicopter pad and would be taken to a remote location somewhere in the hilly back country of the Quantico exercise area. From there, they were expected to create a camp and patrol the area until they found Cresswell's camp. At that point they were expected to make an attack and see if they could successfully capture the JAG's flag. Cresswell would be allegedly doing the same to them.

"Frankly Gunny, I don't see Cresswell patrolling anything past the latrine. He still has unspecified back and leg issues from a helicopter crash in Afghanistan about a year ago, although that said, he is still boxing. True, he has MacKenzie, but she has been in specialty assignments, not line assignments, so I doubt she would have the stamina to hump the hills and she certainly wouldn't do it alone. Also, rather than remain formal, addressing each other as Commander and Gunnery Sergeant, for the duration of this exercise let's just go by Harm and Ray," suggested Rabb.

"Works for me, Harm," replied Ray with a chuckle.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation concerning Harm's briefing, Crockett started to lay out his suggestion for their campaign. "First of all, we don't set up a camp since based on what you have told me, no one is coming to look for it. So why bother? Worse that happens is that we sleep under the stars. Secondly, we go for the high ground and try to spot his camp from there. Cresswell likes to travel first class and he will for sure start a fire. Fires generate smoke and that is how we will find him. Third, we use Guile suits on our attack. I have a couple of good ones, including one that will fit you. With the suits on, he couldn't spot us if he was five feet away. Finally, we attack at night to create maximum confusion. We are in, snatch the flag, and back out again almost unseen in our Guile suits. Since no guns are allowed only fists, he can't really hurt us. Before we head for the field, I want you to know up front that I am helping you because Cresswell tried to unjustly screw me over in Beirut. I was sniping even though I was officially assigned to the security detail for that Beirut Marine Barracks at the airport complex that was attacked by the rebels and blown up. We lost 241 Marines killed. The worst single loss since the Iwo Jima landings. Even though I was dealing with a Lebanese sniper at the time, the fact that I was formally assigned to the security detail tarred me with the same brush. With the politicians back home screaming their lungs out, someone had to pay and since Cresswell was the Force JAG in Beirut, he tried to bring charges against me along with the rest of the security company. Only the intervention of the battalion commander I was sniping for that night established that I was on other duty and thus not there saved my ass. The man acted like a rabid dog going after anyone he could. Many a Marine was unjustly punished even though command would not allow us to have any weapons above an M16 and the rifles were not to have a round in the chamber unless an officer so ordered. Try stopping a heavy truck full of explosives with an empty M16. Hell, it can't even be done WITH a loaded M16," said the Gunny bitterly.

The next morning the duo reported to the base helicopter pad for transportation to the area of operations. Rabb and Crockett were dropped off their helicopter in the hilly back country of Quantico. At Crockett's suggestion, they were traveling light: two Guile suits, maps, K Bar knives, a dual purpose night and day set of binoculars, flashlights, MREs and water. The pair headed for high ground to see of they could spot Cresswell's base camp. After a long, hot slog constantly under attack from mosquitoes, they reached the summit of the highest ridge and started to scan for signs of Cresswell along with having some rations and a drink. While they waited, they entertained each other reminiscing about Crockett's brush with prison for shooting out the mirror on his CO's Humvee to get his attention concerning his deal to remain at Quantico until retirement. Harm shared his story of being undercover with Captain Koonan's company of Recon Marines. Suddenly, about a mile and a half away, Harm spotted a plume of smoke. Since Cresswell had arranged for the area to be completely devoid of all other ongoing operations because, as he put it, he wanted this exercise to be one on one so it had to be Cresswell's camp. Crockett quickly unfolded his map and after some study, concluded that the opposition must be camping in a clearing near a small stream. Traversing this clearing out in the open to attack would be difficult without being spotted. While Harm was concerned, the camp's location didn't seem to bother Crockett one bit.

"If this map is accurate, the banks of that creek are fairly deep and should provide good cover to get right up to the camp. That clump of brush behind the camp will cover our approach after we leave the creek. There is also a nice hill just to the West that should provide good concealment. That will allow us to study their layout and ascertain just how diligent their security is. We had better get moving if we want to get our plan together before it gets dark," said Crockett.

After a two hour hike, the pair was in a concealed area of the hill above the camp. The camp was indeed Cresswell's. He and MacKenzie had erected field tents and now sat around the campfire obviously enjoying a three course hot meal that smelled like barbequed beef. Observation found that the creek banks were indeed quite high and should provide good concealment. Wearing their Guile suits at night should render them near invisible and allow them to get as close as they wanted to the camp undetected. Further, it appeared that security was lax trending towards non existent. It appeared to both of them that Cresswell's strategy was merely to 'come and get me' with no offensive patrolling in the mix. Having scoped out the enemy camp, the pair withdrew about a half mile to discuss the plan that was now formulating in each of their minds.

As they were getting their gear ready, Crockett suddenly stiffened and motioned for Harm to be quiet and not move. After another minute of this, he motioned to Rabb that they had visitors and to go right to flank them. Not knowing what he was up against, Harm picked up a heavy piece of fallen tree branch to use, if needed. Quietly, they moved into the brush until they spotted a heavy set, armed Marine obviously trying to spot them. This Marine was concentrating on trying to spot the duo and not paying attention to his surroundings. A fatal mistake in combat especially when going up against Rabb and Crockett. A quick hand signal from Ray Crockett and they moved simultaneously to attack and subdue this man from the rear. The unknown Marine heard their movement and started to spin around to face his attackers when Harm's well swung fallen tree branch dropped him like a stone. Quickly they tied him up with some nylon ties that the man conveniently carried. No doubt to use on them. Then they stuffed his handkerchief in his mouth to keep him quiet and propped him up against a tree. With the mystery Marine still unconscious, the duo busied themselves going through the man's pockets and gear to see who he was and to ascertain what his mission was. His military ID card identified him as Gunnery Sergeant Clarence Wilson. His ruck sack contained more nylon ties, rations, maps, a length of rope, a field communications radio, and two hypodermic syringes containing an unknown fluid. All this was in addition to his sniper rifle. As Harm was going through the man's Ruck, Crockett stared at the unconscious form as if trying to place him. When Rabb was done with his task, he looked up at Crockett's contorted face.

"What is wrong Ray?" asked Harm.

"I just remembered who this guy is. He is known in the Corps as "Bull" Wilson. While it's never been proven, everyone above Corporal knows he has acted as Cresswell's clean up man since the General was a shave tail lieutenant. Rumor has it that the deal is Cresswell gets him his promotions and gets him out of scrapes in exchange for doing his dirty work. He almost killed a Marine buddy of mine a few years ago and never was punished because of 'intervention from higher up'. Looks to me like Cresswell put him on our trail as insurance to make sure he won by capturing us or given the sniper rifle, shooting us. Well, that ain't going to happen today and any day," said Ray Crockett with a look of disgust on his face.

"How did you spot him?" asked Rabb.

"Like I've told you many times, I know things and while I wasn't sure at the time, I saw a momentary flash of the sun off either a rifle scope or binoculars. Then I saw some unnatural movement behind us and as the wind was at our backs, started to pick up on the smell of his cologne right after we finished our recon of Cresswell's camp," replied the sniper.

"Well, its a good thing you did otherwise the outcome of this exercise could have been completely different. Now, what are we going to do with him is the next question? We don't really have a lot of time to mess with him," said Rabb.

"Lets drag him into that gully yonder, and tie him to that tall Oak standing in the middle. It is isolated so even if he works off the gag no one will be anywhere near enough to hear him, there is plenty of brush to conceal him from any casual passersby, and I will personally tie him up so he will have no chance of working through the ropes. That will keep him until the search party finds him, although I am sure he will have endured plenty of mosquito and ant bites in the meantime. I'll deactivate his sniper rife for him and leave it next to him. I am sure it is stolen and he will have a mighty hard time explaining his possession of it to the MPs. Stealing a weapon, especially a sniper rifle, is so serious a charge that I doubt even Cresswell could get him off. A spin off benefit is that we clobbered him so fast, I am sure he didn't get a good look at either of us, so he wouldn't know for sure who attacked him. Could have been that we had our own insurance policy roaming the woods!" said the retired Marine with a laugh.

The duo grabbed the still unconscious form of Sergeant Wilson, one under each arm, and dragged him not very gently down into the gully and positioned him at the tree. Rabb went back to their hide and tidied up, consolidating Wilsons's stuff with their own while Crockett tied up Wilson and made sure his gag was still secure. The only things left to do now was to eat their rations and prepare for their night time incursion. After about thirty minutes, Crockett returned carrying a burlap sack that was full of something that buzzed. It was a large hornet's nest that he had obtained by using his 'special skills'. What Harm did not know was that Crockett had not only tied up the unconscious Marine, but also exacted some revenge on Wilson for his old friend. He also had discharged the sniper rifle so it look like Wilson had taken a shot at them. While they were eating, they once again studied their map and saw that about a mile due east of Cresswell's camp site was an access road. Based on this, they decided to forego coming back to their current hide and instead set up a new hide in a swale half way between the road and the camp. This allowed them to make their attack, have an easy egress route, and pick up their gear on their way out. Crockett said the road was well traveled and that it should be no sweat to catch a ride back to the main base from there. All was now ready.

As the sun was setting, the duo climbed into their Guile suits, checked each other's camo face paint, shouldered their gear and headed for their new hide. At Rabb's insistence, Crockett carried the wasp bag. The last rays of the sun found the them busily working at their new hide. Their gear was concealed, they checked over their suits, reviewed the map one more time, and then set out for Cresswell's camp.

After a forty minute march, they arrived at the camp. Once again they surveyed the camp to make sure that nothing had changed. In addition, they used the infra red mode of their binoculars to make sure that only the General and MacKenzie were present and that there were no additional 'surprises' lurking about. After thoroughly scanning the camp and surrounding terrain, they concluded that nothing had changed. The Marines had a large campfire going over which they appeared to be roasting something on a spit. A coffee pot appeared to be buried in the coals and 80's rock music was blaring from a portable radio. All the comforts of home. Well, that is going to cost, thought Harm. All they had to do now was wait for the opposition to finish dinner.

Harm and Ray pulled the hoods of their Guile suits up over their heads and headed for the creek that ran behind the camp. As they had thought, the banks of the creek were deep enough to totally conceal their movements and the running water in the stream concealed all the noise they were making as they moved. Quietly they worked their way up the creek until they were opposite the camp. The wind was in their faces and as a result carried what was being said as well as the smell Cresswell's cigar smoke. Most of the conversation pertained to the cooking of their dinner, but after that, the conversation got very interesting.

"Well, we haven't heard or seen hide nor hare of Rabb, so I guess that my plan worked. I didn't see the point of humping through this forest when I could have my man Bull waylay Rabb and his partner, take his flag, and leave him tied up hanging from a tree. We'll meet up with Bull tomorrow morning, get the flag, and then call for a chopper and head in."

"Harm's going to be really mad that we didn't play by the rules," said Mac.

"After he gets out of the hospital, he can be as mad as he wants. No one is going to listen to him because he has no proof. His accusations will just paint him as a sore looser and provide me with the basis for his transfer. JAG headquarters I believe has been and still is waaaay too lenient on punishments handed down and even though it is efficient and the staff does a good job, it is also waaaay too blue. I intend to green up the place by gradually shipping out most of the squids and replacing them with Marines who will get the kind of punishment levels that should be handed out to the guilty. You have been there for over 9 years and as the chief of staff you know the systems and how to keep the office running smoothly as we feed in Marine replacements. Keep the systems running smoothly and I am sure that a set of Eagles will soon find their way to you. Everyone in the office looks up to Rabb both for help and as a role model, so he had to be set up to go first. This whole exercise was designed to do just that. After this exercise is over, I will declare the exercises unproductive and discontinue them. There is no way he can possible win because our flag is in my ruck sack. Neat, eh," said the General with a big smile.

Mac just smiled and nodded but thought to herself, if he is willing to do that to headquarters' top performer, what will he do to me when he thinks I have outlived my usefulness? I think I will be really nice to him in the short term and quietly get in touch with my handler to get her to start looking for something else in the longer term. Anyway, Harm is a lot tougher than Creswell gives him credit for. I would not be surprised at all if Harm turned the tables on this guy Bull.

Down in the creek bed a soft click was heard. It was Harm turning off the recording feature on his cell phone. He had captured every word Cresswell had said. Not only that, but Rabb was now out for blood - Cresswell's blood. You want to play rough, well game on General. It is one thing to just ship me out. After all, I have been in Washington for over nine years. It is quite another to develop a scenario to injure me and use it as an excuse to ship me out with my tail between my legs, thought Harm. While it could not be seen in the darkness, Rabb'snormally bright blue eyes changed in color to an almost grey as he shook with anger. Ray Crockett immediately picked up on Rabb's contorted face and the abiding anger and his little inner voice said to be careful because Rabb is now out for real blood. Crockett didn't blame him one bit after what he had heard.

The remainder of the evening's conversation revolved around a discussion of each of their assignments over their careers, discussing mutual acquaintances, etc. About 2230, the conversation ended as each prepared to sleep. Off to their right was a boggy area with a slight rise guarded by a large fallen tree trunk. The perfect place to heed the call of nature in. Sure enough Mac used it followed by Cresswell before turning in. After about an hours wait the duo were about to break cover to attend to attack when suddenly, Harm signaled to Crockett that he wanted to redo their attack plan. With a nod, Crockett acknowledged the signal and they both slowly made their way back out of the creek and moved back to their hide.

"Ray, based on what I heard up there, I want to do something completely different. How about we hold off until tomorrow morning to make our attack. Let's let them get out of their sacks, do their business, and as they are eating their breakfast, we dump the wasp nest on them. The wasps go after them and they run off into the woods. We move in and take their rucks and maybe their tents since they are only held up with fiberglass poles and split. Make our way back here, grab the rest of our gear, head for the road, and grab a ride back to the base. When they come back, they find nothing and have no clue who did it - well I am sure they will know but can't prove it. We are long gone and they have a long way to go to get back to the base since we will have their radio so they have no means to call a chopper. What do you think?

Crockett thought about Harm's plan for several minutes. Harm could see that he was turning every facet of the proposed plan over in his mind looking for flaws. Finally, he got a small smile on his face and said, "I like it. Here's how I think we should implement it." The sergeant then proceeded to lay out his proposed implementation. "We stay here until an hour before sun up and then move back to our previous position in the creek. As they are setting down to breakfast, I move up behind the tents and toss the wasp nest over the top into their laps. I will give the wasps a good shaking before I do to get them good and riled up. Wasps hate to be bounced around, especially in their nest. I reckon that it will take them better than a mile of hard running to get away from the wasps. Should give us plenty of time to take care of business. Then we toss the nest in the fire so the wasps don't come back and turn on us. Finally, we take all their gear that we can easily carry with us back to the this hide, pick up our stuff and head for the road. That road should be fairly busy early in the morning. We hook a ride back to base, you take their gear, then we leave the base and go to a restaurant I know that serves a great breakfast - on you of course. After that we split up," explained Crockett. "What do you think?

"I love it. Let's do it!" replied Rabb enthusiastically. "I will take first watch. The way things have gone, I want to make sure Cresswell doesn't have any other friends crawling around in these woods."

An hour before sun up, the duo was up and ready to move out. Once again they entered the creek and moved silently down the bank to their old position just as the sun started to come up. It was going to be a hot, sticky day. Once again Mac and Cresswell answered the call of nature and then the duo heard them start to make preparations for breakfast. One thing stood out to Harm. Mac was now calling the General by his first name, Gordon. Mac had never before called or referred to the JAG by his first name, at least not that he had ever heard. Had something happened last night to affect this change in protocol? He did not have much time to think about the issue as Crockett motioned that he was about to fling the wasp nest. As the sergeant moved slowly and silently up out of the creek bed, he started to shake the wasp nest hard. Harm was afraid that the sudden loud buzzing from inside the bag would alert the targets. Cresswell started to say, "Bull is due to check in pretty ... " , just as the wasp nest came flying over the tents. Seconds later, a loud scream and howls of pain were heard as the angry wasps found their marks followed by the sound of Mac and Cresswell thundering down the trail in front of the camp frantically trying to swat the attacking wasps away from them.

Instantly, Harm sprang from the creek and started to collect Mac's gear. He was concentrating on this task so intently that he failed to see Crockett laughing heartily as he too started to police up Cresswell's gear. In less than five minutes they had collected all their gear and were headed back to their hide. Before they left, however, Harm made sure that he had the flag as well as their field radio and on a hunch, Cresswell's cigar stub. Now that stealth was no longer necessary, the duo made it back to their hide in record time. Quickly stowing their Guile suits, wiping off their camo makeup, and collecting their gear, they headed for the road, leaving no trace of their presence.

Once they reached the road, both of them looked at each other and burst into fits of laughter. They had done it. After about five minutes, a Marine 6X6 came rumbling down the road and stopped when they flagged him down. Since a lieutenant colonel was asking him for a ride back to base, the corporal driving was more than happy to give them a lift. Soon they were at the parking area where Harm had his SUV. They thanked the driver for his help and piled all the gear into the cavernous rear of the Lexus. Twenty minutes later they were at Lucy's Diner ordering breakfast.

Back in the gully, Bull Wilson was awake and nursing a major headache as well as itching all over from what seemed like hundreds of mosquito and ant bites. In addition, he had a throbbing pain from both knee caps, He had come to in the middle of the night tied to a tree in this gully. Whoever did this to me sure knew what they were doing. No one is going to find me in this gully unless they practically fall over me. I am in a deep depression surrounded by heavy brush which provides good concealment. The area is so remote that not many exercises are staged out here, so I don't think shouting will do much good, and I am tied tight with double knots. The way things are going, I might well die out here, he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Cresswell and MacKenzie were struggling to climbing out of a small pond about a mile and a half from their camp site. Jumping in the pond and staying underwater had been their sole defense against the wasp hoard. Both had numerous wasp stings that virtually covered their bodies including their private parts since the thin, summer weight fatigues they were wearing did little to protect their skin from the aggressive wasps. One of Mac's eyes was starting to swell shut in addition to feeling that her skin was on fire. Cresswell's lips looked like a small inflated inner tube and his face was an unnatural flaming red dotted with even redder spots. After a brief rest, the pair headed back to their campsite. Every step hurt but they pressed on. Both had tubes of lotion in their gear that should take at least some of the sting out until they could get back to base. At last they reached their campsite but found that nothing remained except the smoldering camp fire with their coffee pot perched in the middle. Everything else was gone! At first they were unsure that this was really their campsite, but a brief look around confirmed that it indeed was. Cresswell's eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he let out a scream that caused the startled birds in the surrounding trees to take flight.

Cresswell bellowed in his best command voice, "RAAB, you bastard, come out and bring our gear back! This has gone far enough!" he yelled. After waiting several minutes for a reply, he sat down heavily on a rock and just stared. MacKenzie was already sitting on the ground crying and wondering to herself, how could Harm do this to me! After half an hour, both Cresswell and MacKenzie were over their initial shock and starting to think about how they were going to get back to base. They had no radio and they were at the furthest end of the practice area, so it would be a very long walk thru rough terrain dealing with the pain of hundreds of wasp stings. It was decided to take a dip in the creek behind them. The cool water should sooth the stings at least somewhat and they could wash the mud off their fatigues so they looked like Marines again. The hot day would soon dry their clothing. Cresswell had been in this part of the practice area several times over the years and knew there was a ring road about a mile or so East of them. They had seen it from the helicopter on the trip in. Once they had finished their dip in the creek, they headed for the ring road. Along the way, Cresswell stepped on a rock the wrong way and twisted his ankle. After he tightened his boot as tight as he could and finding a small branch that would serve as a cane, the duo were off again heading to the road. After a two hour march, they were on the road looking to catch a ride back to base.

As Cresswell and Mac were standing on the road looking for a ride, Harm and Ray had finished an excellent breakfast at Lucy's diner and headed for Ray Crockett's house.

"Ray, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for partnering with me for this exercise. I would probably be in Bull Wilson's clutches not to mention probably severely injured if it wasn't for you. I am sure I am going to be paying big time for my victory, but I will still have the memory of this adventure to reflect back on for the rest of my days. Thanks again. As a token of my esteem, when you grab your gear out of the back, take along that case of Jim Beam sitting back there as well." said Harm.

"I enjoyed humping the bush once again Harm. Doubly so since I was able to get some measure of revenge on Bull Wilson for what he done to an old friend from Beirut days as well as Cresswell. I expect Wilson is in so deep a trouble with that stolen sniper rifle that even Cresswell wouldn't be able to get him out. Stop by anytime you are down here and we can sit on the porch and drink some of that Beam and reminisce about our adventures together. I'll even tell you how I got Chegwidden and his Seal team out of that nasty ambush years ago." said Crockett. With that, they shook hands and Crockett picked his gear and case of Jim Beam out of the rear and with a wave headed into his house. As Harm pulled onto the highway heading back to Washington, he decided that he needed to talk to someone about what had happened, Chegwidden.

Cresswell's luck was changing for the better when the next vehicle coming down the road was a base ambulance. It had been called out to deal with injuries sustained in a training accident. Seeing a Major General standing by the side of the road gesturing for them to stop was more than enough incentive to smash on the brakes. One look at all the wasp stings and they were on their way, lights and siren, heading to the base infirmary. Since the driver had radioed ahead, medical staff was waiting at the door to assist both officers into emergency room treatment rooms where the doctors and nurses descended on them in a swarm. Cresswell was having an allergic reaction to the wasp stings and was given shots to counteract his reaction. Once both patients had had the stingers removed one by one, the staff bathed their stings in soothing calamine lotion. An xray of the General's leg indicated only a sprain which was wrapped securely. After about an hour of observation in the emergency room, both had progressed satisfactorily enough to be discharged with instructions of what to do if their symptoms flared up and two large bottles of calamine lotion to apply for three days at which time both needed to report to Bethesda Hospital for a final clearance checkup. Upon discharge, they were driven to where their cars were parked. Only one last thing had to be attended to: getting a search party going to find Bull Wilson. Cresswell sent Mac straight home while he stopped by the brig to have a search party organized. Once that was done, he too headed home still seething that that squid Harmon Rabb had foiled his plan.

By the time the General was leaving the base, Harm was pulling into retired Chegwidden's driveway. A knock on the door brought the Admiral to the door clad in a pair of cut off fatigue pants, wearing no shirt and holding a beer. Harm had never seen his former CO in such attire and stood with his mouth open at the sight. Chegwidden stood in the doorway for a few moments surveying Harm standing there in dirty fatigues. Right away he knew something was seriously wrong. Looks like Rabb has stepped in it again. Better ask him in and see if I can help, he thought.

"Hi Harm. Come on in. Looks like you have some serious things on your mind," said the Admiral.

"Thank you Admiral. I do have some very serious things on my mind and I would be grateful if you could give me suggestions on how to resolve these issues. I have beaten Cresswell at his own game and I don't think he is going to take it laying down. Let me explain," said Rabb haltingly.

Taking the beer from the Admiral, Rabb sat down heavily in a chair in the front room and told him the full story. When he got to the part about the wasps, Chegwidden started laughing so hard that tears ran down his cheeks. At the end of the story, Harm pulled out his cell phone and played the recording of Cresswell's plan to 'turn the Headquarters green'. The Admiral abruptly sat bolt upright in his chair and asked Harm to play the sound bite again, which he did.

"This is precisely what Sec Nav was afraid of when Cresswell was appointed. Worse, the true aim is to use presumably hand picked Marines to do his bidding in imposing harsher sentences. Would you mind if I called Sec Nav and let him listen to your recording?" asked the former Seal.

"Not at all, Sir," was the reply.

Chegwidden excused himself to make the call and put on some better clothes. Rabb's bottle of beer was about half gone when the Admiral reappeared and answered the ring at the front door. It was Sec Nav. After coming to attention and being put at ease, Harm's former CO asked him to repeat his story and play the sound bite. As the cell phone was snapped off at the end of the sound bite, Sec Nav was clearly shaken and Harm thought he could detect a smoldering anger in his eyes.

" I was afraid this would happen. Cresswell didn't come into the nomination process with 'clean hands' either. He had been the Marine JAG in Beirut and after the bombing of the Marine Barracks there in '82 had apparently tried to railroad every Marine that was even remotely connected to security there. There were some other blemishes as well, but all that was glossed over because the President was impressed by him during a hospital visit when he was recovering from a helicopter crash as I recall. Now he has started to implement his plan by 'setting up' his staff for transfer. In this case after Rabb had been assaulted and functionally kidnapped. Commander, I thank you for having the courage to bring this to the Admiral's and my attention. The process to relieve a general officer is slow and politically charged. It may take months to achieve our goal. I have to start by making calls to key people to clear my skirts politically. When the plan is laid out then I will get back with you AJ to discuss options." said Sec Nav.

"Perhaps it would be better to sit now and discuss options so you are ready to not only present the problems to whomever you need to call. but also have solutions in hand to 'run up the flag pole'," replied Chegwidden.

"Excellent idea," said Sec Nav.

"Harm, thanks for coming over with this issue. You look like you could use a bath, some grub, and some rest. I assume you will be at home in the event I need you," said the former JAG.

"Yes sir." replied Harm as he excused himself and headed for his SUV.

"Gutsy thing to do. Rabb could have just chosen to stay silent, ride it out, take the transfer that was for sure coming, and move on," said the Admiral.

With that the Sec Nav and Chegwidden sat down to consider their options. In the end, after sifting through several scenarios, it appeared that the best option was to relieve Cresswell before things got out of hand. The issue then became who would replace him. No one obvious replacement appeared in their deliberations. Finally Sec Nav asked Chegwidden if he would consider coming out of retirement to once again be JAG at least until a more satisfactory replacement could be found. The Admiral agreed to come out of retirement and reassume his duties as JAG. With that, Sec Nav pulled out his cell phone and started to make some calls.

As Rabb parked in his reserved parking spot, he suddenly became very tired. All the stress, physical activity, and long hours awake all seemed to pile on him all at once. At least he was home. He unloaded his gear and carried it upstairs to his apartment. Once inside, he stripped off his filthy clothes and threw them in the washer. After finishing off some leftovers he headed for bed. Four hours later he woke up and started to unpack his kit. After he had finished, he call the Admiral explaining that he had another matter connected to this affair that he would like to discuss with him. A late afternoon meeting the following day was arranged.

While Rabb was unpacking, searchers at Quantico finally happened upon Bull Wilson after a half day's search still securely tied to a tree. The leader of the search team did not say anything at the time, but the presence of a loaded sniper rifle that had been fired raised questions that would need to be addressed by the MPs. While his team freed Wilson and helped him walk to a nearby meadow, the team leader arranged for a helicopter pick up and suggested that an MP investigator meet the chopper at the infirmary as well. The sergeant in charge of the search party recognized Wilson and knew of his reputation. I think old Bull in deep trouble this time and if that rifle is stolen, he'll be going to Leavenworth for a long time, he thought to himself.

After a good night's sleep, a hearty breakfast, and a 5 mile run, Harm was feeling like his old self again. He had unloaded both Cresswell's and Mac's ruck sacks from the back of his SUV and carried them up to his apartment. Cresswell's ruck held the usual change of clothes, toiletries, and his cell phone. Mac's ruck was much heavier than Cresswell's. The difference Harm found was that in addition to the usual clothes and toiletries, it held a large supply of power bars. It also had a plastic bag which contained soiled articles of clothing.

It was late afternoon when Harm once again pulled into Chegwidden's driveway and once again he was wearing a grim look. When the Admiral answered the door, he immediately picked up on the fact that this was about to be a serious meeting - again. Once inside, Harm went right to the heart of the matter. He explained the relationship difference between Mac and the General had changed dramatically literally overnight. Mac was now calling the General by his first name and they seemed to be interacting with a greater familiarity than the previous day. "I didn't have time to think about it at the time, but I have since and I don't like my conclusion, so I thought I would run it by you and see what you think," said Harm.

"Start from the beginning," said the admiral.

"We had originally planned to make a night attack on their camp. Our plan was to wear Guile suits for optimum concealment, create a diversion, rush the camp, steal their flag in the confusion, and melt back into the forest. We changed that to do a dawn attack with the wasp nest instead because we were not sure there were not more of Cresswell's 'friends' out there waiting to pounce. We actually changed our plan as we stood in the creek that ran behind their camp site for several hours while we listened to Cresswell's plan, which you have already heard, as well as their other conversations. That night they were pretty formal in their conversations, the next morning they are engaging in much more familiar banter and as I said before, Mac is calling him by his first name. Something had changed. I suspect that we may have a case of fraternization here Admiral. I found a set of soiled undergarments in Mac's ruck and I also have Cresswell's toothbrush and a cigar stub from the camp site to compare for DNA. Finally, I also have two syringes full of an unknown liquid I took off Bull Wilson that I think should be analyzed. Given that this is Mac we are talking about, how do you suggest we proceed?

Chegwidden was obviously shocked by what he just heard. He sat contemplating everything that Harm had told him for some time. "The first thing we need to do is to have the pieces of evidence examined by the NCIS lab as well as the contents of the two syringes. I will call Leon Vance and get him over to pick up the samples and do an analysis on the QT. Once we see what we have, we will know how to proceed. In the meantime, not a word to anyone, understand." said the Admiral.

"I have both their rucks and tents in the car. I thought I would drop by headquarters and leave them in their respective offices this afternoon rather than raising a spectacle tomorrow morning. Is that OK?" asked Rabb.

"We have everything we need out of them, so go ahead and drop them off. Tomorrow morning is apt to be rough on you. Cresswell and probably Mac are no doubt pissed. Just roll with the punches. Remember, this process will likely move slowly since it is politically charged, but rest assured that a plan is in place," said Chegwidden.

"Thank you Admiral for all your help in this mess," said Harm. With that he took his leave and drove straight over to JAG headquarters to drop off Cresswell and Mac's stuff. With a little help from the security detachment, he got all of the items upstairs and put in each office in record time and headed to the Robert's to see if he could take his two Godsons to the neighborhood park. He didn't want to go home because he figured Mac might drop over to vent her spleen, and he was in no mood to listen. Robert's house seemed like the ideal solution.

AJ and Jimmy were excited to see their godfather and even more excited when they got permission to go to the neighborhood park with him. Off the trio went, each holding hands with Harm. Rabb pushed them on the swings, played on the teeter-totter, then acted as the spotter as the boys climbed on the monkey bars, and finally ended up helping build a sand castle. At last, it was evident that the boys were getting tired and so they headed back home with a quick stop at the ice cream shop for cones. By the time they reached the Robert's home all were covered in ice cream drips. Accepting an invitation to stay for dinner, Harm gave a brief description of the capture the flag exercise to both Bud and Harriet, avoiding the details. It was just getting dark when Harm opened the door to his apartment and threw the weekend's accumulation of mail on his desk. After throwing his ice cream stained clothes in the washer and laying out his uniform for tomorrow, Harm made his weekly call his grandmother and after a pleasant chat, climbed into bed. He was asleep in seconds.

The next morning arrived much too early for Harm's taste, but he was up extra early anyway. He wanted to make sure he looked extra sharp and he needed to be to work early to avoid any problems. When he arrived, Mac was in her office but didn't even look up when he bid her good morning. Cresswell was obviously in but did not appear at his office door like he generally did. After signing on to his computer, it was time for the morning officer's call. As he walked past Coate's desk, she gave him a sign that said, 'Watch yourself.'

Harm took his usual seat at the library's table and waited for the rest of the officers to arrive. The Roberts were first followed by Sturgis. After a couple of minutes Mac arrived. At a distance, her makeup appeared normal, but as she got closer it looked like she had applied it with a trowel. Worse yet, some of what ever she was using for an foundation was starting to dry and crack. Finally, the General arrived with a stack of files. After the usual pleasantries, the files were distributed, other matters were discussed including the need to clean out the refrigerator and the fact that orders for stationary supplies would be cut because they were over budget. Following dismissal, everyone returned to their offices except Sturgis and Harm, who headed to court. It was noon before court wound up and the duo headed for the cafeteria for a quick lunch. Harm noticed that Mac and Cresswell were eating together so he made sure to find a table at the opposite side of the room. As he returned to his office, Coates was standing waiting for him. "The General wants to see you in his office, sir," said this yeoman.

With a sigh, Rabb headed for the JAG's office. Here it comes, he thought. The he remembered the Admiral's directions, to just hang in there. "Reporting as Ordered," he said as he came to attention before Cresswell. One look at the general told him that this was really going to be a rough conversation. Cresswell did not put Harm at ease so he assumed his Academy rigid posture and stared at the junction of the wall and ceiling.

"First, thanks for returning my ruck and tent to me. The contents appear to be in good order. Second, based on your performance in the field, it appears that your survival skills are developed enough that no further schooling is required. Third, it absolutely galls me NO END that a naval officer has bested a pair of Marines in a combat field exercise. That just does not happen! Have you ever boxed Rabb?" he asked.

"NO sir, never even put on a pair of boxing gloves, sir," said Rabb.

"That is too bad since a little sparing would be a better assessment of combat ability," said Cresswell.

"Respectfully sir, I don't think that would be a good idea, sir," said the lawyer.

With that Cresswell's face turned bright red, he came around his desk like a shot, and got right into Harm's face. "And why is that COMMANDER?" he shouted.

"Well, while I have never boxed as I said, I have friends who do. They tell me that with my long arms and body strength, I would be a tough opponent in the ring. Respectfully sir, I think my strength level is at least on a par with yours. Since my reach is a good five inches longer that yours, it would appear that I could hold you at arm's length and pound the living hell out of you all day, ... sir," said Rabb in a low, even voice that conveyed a sense of danger to the JAG.

His plan to get Rabb in the ring and give him a through beating in the name of sparing just vaporized before his eyes. He was right. He probably could hold him at bay and from the size of his arms, he probably had at least the same strength levels and quite possibly more. A thorough beating looked like a real possibility and the low, even tone with which Rabb delivered his observations caused his small inner voice to say, Biff, we don't want to go there.

"Dismissed!' was all the general said.

After Rabb had left his office, his yeoman buzzed to say that, Major Buffo, the commander of the Quantico military police barracks was on line one. Major Buffo said, "General, I wanted to let you know that we have located Gunny Wilson. We found him tied to a tree in a hollow with some serious injuries. We treated his injuries as best we could in the field and then rushed him back to the base infirmary where he is currently under guard. The doctors are telling me that given the extent of his injuries, it appears likely that he will need a couple of more days of recovery to make sure he is stable enough to be transferred to Bethesda. Also, General, you should be aware that NCIS has been called in on the case"

"What sorts of injuries has Wilson sustained and why is NCIS involved?" asked Creswell.

"Well sir, the doctors here tell me that Wilson has sustained a serious concussion, two broken knee caps, severe facial injuries, and numerous mosquito and ant bites all over his body, some of which are infected. When we found the Gunny, he had in his possession a Marine issue sniper rifle that has subsequently been identified as stolen from the base armory. Further, our armorers examined it and concluded that it had been fired very recently. A standard search pattern of the area where he was found yielded nothing, but the scene where he took a shot at whomever may well have taken place somewhere else. Because of the seriousness of the gun theft charge as well as the likelihood that a charge of attempted or even murder would be added to the charges, we called in NCIS to do a through investigation, sir. We will continue to keep you in the loop, General," said the major

As Cresswell was hanging up his phone after the MP's call, AJ Chegwidden was picking up his to answer a call from NCIS Director Vance. He said, "Admiral, the lab results have just come back on the two syringes as well as the DNA assessment of the under garment. The barbiturates in the syringes was a powerful anesthetic favored by the Mexican cartels for kidnapping their victims. Dr. Mallard tells me that if someone were to be injected with the full amount contained in either syringe, it would probably have killed them. We matched the finger prints on the syringes to Gunnery Sergeant Clarence Wilson. In addition, the DNA found on the under garment matched the DNA found on both the cigar stub and the toothbrush. A 100 percent match to General Gordon Cresswell. You should know that we have been called in to investigate Sergeant Wilson on another matter. He was found tied to a tree in the Quantico exercise area suffering from severe injuries with a recently fired, stolen Marine sniper rifle, again with his prints all over the weapon. Wilson is currently at the Quantico infirmary waiting recovery enough to be moved to Bethesda. He probably will not be available to us for questioning for at least a week."

"Thank you director for the update. Given that we are dealing an extremely sensitive matter here involving not only a general officer, but also the Navy's JAG, I suggest that you relay this information to the Sec Nav personally and obtain his guidance on who should be allowed to have access to this and subsequent developments in the case," suggested the Admiral.

Chegwidden was just returning from his daily run when he met the Sec Nav walking up his front walk. "Good afternoon Mr. Secretary. I assume you had a nice talk with Director Vance. Come on in and let's discuss things over a drink." As they finished their first glass of single malt, Chegwidden broached the subject that was weighing heavily on both their minds, "Based on Vance's call, how do you want to proceed? We have him on fraternization, and we can probably tie him to this Sergeant Wilson who will be charged with attempted kidnapping and an attempted murder charge, not to mention theft of a sniper rifle."

"I have just come from the White House where I briefed the Secretary of Defense and the President on the situation. Both men were deeply shocked by this turn of events and stressed that whatever we do, it must be done in absolute secrecy. If it were to get out that the Navy's chief law man was involved in fraternization, kidnapping, and attempted murder, it would make Tail Hook look like a Sunday school picnic and would scandalize the administration from now until the end of the President's term in office. How do you suggest moving forward?" asked the secretary.

"I suggest we lay back and wait until the investigation of Wilson's activities has been concluded and then see what we have, make sure all the facts are rock solid, and then decide on a course of action. I believe all communication must go through you to ensure the lid stays tightly on. Rabb knows how to keep his mouth shut, but to be absolutely sure, I suggest that he be sent TAD to one of the carriers until this whole thing is resolved. I will talk to him and emphasize the need for absolute security." said the retired JAG.

"The Abraham Lincoln is in the Arabian Sea supporting operations in both Iraq and Afghanistan and they need a CAG temporarily. I'll arrange for the orders to be cut for Rabb first thing tomorrow. Speaking of Rabb, just how does he always seem to get involved in all these sensitive situations anyway?" asked Sec Nav as he headed for the door.

"That is a question for the ages Mr. Secretary." chuckled the Admiral.

After the secretary had left, Chegwidden picked up the phone and called Rabb to say, "Harm I need to see you at my place at 1900. It's important."

At 1900 on the dot, Rabb was standing at the Admiral's front door waiting admission. Once he was admitted he had a seat on the couch and waited for the Admiral to speak. "Harm, things are heating up fast and you need to leave town for a while. Tomorrow you will receive orders sending you TAD to the Lincoln as acting CAG for a short period of time. Sergeant Wilson has been found in serious condition tied to a tree with a fired stolen sniper rifle and two syringes of a powerful barbiturate used almost exclusively for kidnapping. You must have really clobbered him since he has a concussion, two broken knee caps, infected mosquito and ant bites, and is dehydrated. Remind me never to go camping with you." said the Admiral.

"Sir, I will admit that I did hit him with a broken tree branch which I used as a club after he spotted us sneaking up on him and began to draw a bead on us with his rifle, forcing me to move to disable him before he could get a shot off. However, I had no hand in breaking his knee caps and actually did not know he had sustained those injuries until you just told me. I left my partner to tie him up while I continued to keep watch to make sure there were no other Cresswell 'friends' on the loose out there. My partner had a grudge against Wilson, who it seems acts as Cresswell's henchman doing the General's dirty work in exchange for getting him out of scrapes and securing his promotions." said Rabb.

"By the way, who was your partner?" asked the Admiral.

"Sir, I promised that individual that I would never reveal his identity, but you know him. I don't feel I can say anymore, sir. As I said, I was responsible for the concussion, but my partner tied him up super securely and unbeknownst to me, apparently broke this guy's knee caps." said Rabb.

"Crockett? asked the Admiral. Harm's reply was a smile.

After Harm left the Admiral's, he headed back to his apartment to start packing and cleaning up the place. As he was running a load of wash, he decided that he needed to call his grandmother and his parents to let them both know he was being assigned out of the country. After the calls, he headed for bed.

The next morning, he was summoned to Cresswell's office and handed his orders sending him TAD to the Abraham Lincoln as CAG. A quick read of his orders indicated that he was to report to Andrews immediately for a flight to the Middle East, Other than a look that Harm read as 'good riddance', the General made no comment nor did he wish his lawyer good luck. Harm said his goodbyes to his colleagues except for Mac who was still avoiding him - which was more that OK by him. Two hours later, he was on a C17 heading to the Middle East. Fortune was smiling on Rabb that day since the Lincoln's COD was just landing as he finished processing into the theatre. Two hours later, he was standing before the Lincoln's captain, William Bligh.

"Rabb, welcome to the Lincoln. You are temporarily taking over Squadron VF 21, the Raiders, from Captain Harold Pugsley. Pugsley has come down with a severe case of shingles and is unable to continue his duties until the rash is cured. Because he needs specialized treatment, he has been sent to Bethesda. You come to us highly recommended by Captain Johnson on the Sea Hawk and your reputation is well known. I am looking to you to continue to build this squadron into a top rated unit. They are a young group with a few veterans mixed in, but they have not yet gelled into the fighting force we expect and need. Our mission remains to support the Marines and other NATO troops in Iraq and Afghanistan."

"I will do my best, skipper," replied Harm.

The next morning, Rabb assembled the squadron in the Ready Room and laid out his expectations. Each aircrew would fly a series of missions with him so he could assess their skill level and he expected everyone to perform at peak performance.

At the end of his talk, a freckled faced young RIO stood up and asked, "Sir, is it true that you destroyed a Taliban headquarters buried in a mountain by flying a Tomcat on the deck down a valley just slightly wider than the plane and firing two missiles into a Taliban headquarters at near point blank range?"

"Yes, replied the aviator. But enough with the chit chat, lets get to work. Nestor and Rhodes, you are first up."

For the balance of the week, the CAG was in the air practically from dawn to dusk answering call after call from ground troops for support and watching how well his young charges performed. By the end of that first week, he had a pretty good idea of all of his aircrew's strengths and weaknesses. Now he had to set about fixing the weaknesses. However, there was one pilot, now on his second cruise, who thought he was already the top gun in the squadron and no old geezer was going to tell him how to fly. A quiet word to the captain and that young man disappeared overnight. Once the squadron saw that there was now a shape up or ship out policy firmly in place, any and all potential resistance to suggestions for improvement melted away.

A month went by with no word from the Admiral although he had been so busy working with his aviators on upgrading their skills and meeting the numerous calls for air support, that he barely had time to remember. Rabb was beginning to wonder if the entire case against Cresswell had either fallen apart or was embroiled in politics. Captain Pugsley would be returning soon and Harm was starting to worry that his next assignment would be commanding the corrosion control staff in Naples, Italy when he was summoned to the bridge. First, the captain wanted to tell Rabb how impressed he was with the way the Raiders were improving and to appraise him of the Admiral's request.

"Commander, I can't get over how much The Raiders have improved. When you came aboard, landing approaches were shaky and none of them could hit the third wire consistently. Now they come straight in and consistently catch the third wire. Ground commanders are filing my communications log with compliments on how well your aviators are performing in support. Bombs and rockets are on target and strafing runs are yielding great results. Keep up the good work. One other thing. I have received a request from Admiral Chegwidden to give you a secure line tomorrow morning. Come up to my away cabin at 0900 and everything will be set up for you," said Bleigh.

"Thank you for your comments, captain. It has been a lot of hard work, but that work is starting to pay off big time. A little more work and I would gladly stack The Raiders against any fighter squadron in the Navy. I will be here at 0900 for Admiral Chegwidden's call," said the CAG.

The next morning after the squadron briefing and assignments, Harm reported to the captain's away cabin. Promptly at 0900, Admiral Chegwidden and the Sec Nav came on the secure line. The Admiral asked, "Are you alone Rabb?

"Yes sir." replied the CAG.

"I am hearing nothing but good reports on your performance out there. According to Bligh, you have taken a mediocre squadron and made it a first line squadron and the various field commanders that you support are praising your squadron's ability to deliver ordinance quickly and always on target. Pretty impressive. But that's not why I called. I wanted to bring you up to speed on the Cresswell project. As you know, NCIS' lab found that the chemical in the syringes was a powerful barbiturate favored by the Mexican cartels for kidnapping their victims. If Wilson had been able to use it on you, he would probably have killed you. His prints were all over the syringes. That is the basis for an attempted kidnapping charge and we are also charging him with attempted murder on the basis of the afore mentioned lethal barbiturates and the stolen sniper rifle. Additional charges of breaking and entering and theft of a sniper rife are icing on the cake. We have Cresswell on fraternization charges based on the fact that DNA found on Mac's under garment was a 100 percent match to Cresswell's DNA found on both his cigar stub and his toothbrush. So we have him on fraternization, conspiracy to kidnap, and conspiracy to commit murder. In addition his henchman, Bull Wilson, has talked. When it became obvious the Cresswell was abandoning him, and confronted with the list of charges including attempted murder, he couldn't wait to tell us about his participation. Suffice to say that old Bull is going to get an all expense paid trip to Leavenworth for a veeery long time. What we are going to do about Mac is still being discussed. I really hate to loose her but, I guess we will just have to see. Most of the political hurdles have been cleared. I would guess that we will be ready to pull the trigger on this whole thing in a couple of weeks. Firing and possibly arresting a Major General is not an easy thing to do. In the mean time, just hang in there and keep up the stellar work."

"Thank you for the briefing. I have plenty to do to keep things rolling out here, but I would like to leave you with a thought for your consideration. It sounds like you have more than enough to take care of Cresswell. What if we drop the fraternization charge? Mac thinks her deed has gone undetected and would no doubt never do something like that again or a simple Admiral's Mast may be adequate. Just a thought, sir," said Rabb.

"We'll take those thoughts under advisement, Commander. Goodbye for now," said the Admiral.

Gibbs had deliberately left Sergeant Wilson sitting in a wheelchair to stew in a conference room at Bethesda for a couple of hours before entering the room. A moment of staring at each other and then Gibbs slammed a thick file on the table. One look at Gibb's face and the thickness of the file convinced Wilson that he was in serious trouble. I'm not worried, I have a Major General as my guardian angel. He'll get me out same as the many times before, thought Bull.

"Your file is filled with assaults of fellow marines, scrapes with civilians, and disrespectful incidents with superiors. Why you are still a Gunnery Sergeant in the Marines is beyond me. Do you want to tell me what you were doing in a restricted exercise area with a stolen sniper rife that had been recently discharged, in possession of nylon restrains, two syringes of a highly toxic barbiturate, and stalking two members of a field exercise?" asked Gibbs.

With a sneer on his face Wilson replied, "I wasn't following nobody. It was such a nice day I thought a walk in the training area would be beneficial to my health. Just as I was sitting down to have a snack, two gorillas jumped me, hit me with a stick, tied me to a tree, and stole all my gear. As for the syringes and the rifle, I don't know how they got there. I think those two guys planted them and were trying to frame me for some crime they had committed."

Gibb's got up and came around the table and then got into Wilson's face and said, "That is the best story I have heard all week, but unfortunately it is all a lie. We have your prints all over the rifle, the cartridges, the syringes, and the plastic restraints. You are charged with theft of a sniper rifle, breaking and entering, attempted kidnapping, and attempted murder. Talk now and we can work with your sentencing but if not then you are looking at a minimum of twenty years at hard labor at Leavenworth, more if our search efforts find a dead body. This is your one and only chance to help yourself by telling me the full story."

"You got nothing on me. That rifle was planted as well as the syringes and restraints. Sounds to me like your case is circumstantial," snarled Wilson.

"Have it your way. The offer is on the table now. When I walk out of this room it goes away forever and you will be paying full freight." replied Gibbs as he got up and started to walk out of the room.

"I got nothing to say except I want a lawyer!" shouted Wilson as the door closed. The General will get me out of this, just like always. All I have to do is keep my mouth shut, Wilson thought with a smile. Minutes later, three Marines, two armed, came and wheeled him back to his room where he remained under guard.

As Wilson was being helped back into bed, Cresswell sat in his office reviewing the charge sheet on Bull. His worst fears had been realized, the hunter had became the hunted and paid the price for it. Based on the injuries sustained by Wilson listed in the charge sheet, the General had to concede that Rabb was not only capable of defending himself, he was also was more than capable of causing great bodily harm. He assumed that it was Harm that had given Wilson his concussion, facial injuries, and broken his knee caps. Most impressive since Bull was as strong as an ox. As Cresswell sat at his desk, he figured that he might be able to get him off on the breaking and entering and maybe even the stealing a sniper rifle charges with probation or a small sentence, but the kidnapping and attempted murder charges were simply not possible based on the evidence. His cold, hard, professional appraisal was that old Bull was looking at 20 to 30 years at hard labor. The issue now was would Bull talk? Especially when it was apparent that he was going away for a long time and there was little that Cresswell could do about it.

The break came at Sergeant Wilson's Article 32 hearing. As the charges were read, Cresswell entered the courtroom and sat down. All right! The fix is in, thought Bull but as he made eye contact with the General looking for the high sign that everything was going to be OK, he was greeted with the kind of cold stare given to your worst enemy. With that, Cresswell got up and walked out.

That bastard is leaving me high and dry! thought Wilson. After all the messes I've cleaned up for him in the past. That's real gratitude. I bet he expects me to keep my mouth shut and take the hard time. Well that ain't going to happen! If I am going down, so is he. As he leaned over to his lawyer, Commander Coleman, he whispered, "I want to do a deal. I'll tell you a story that will blow the lid off this place!" With his lawyer present, later in the afternoon he met again with Jethro Gibbs who saw the anger in Wilson's eyes and knew immediately that he was ready to the blow the whistle. All he wanted now was a deal and Gibbs was prepared to give him one, although not as good as the deal at their first meeting. Once the terms were agreed to, Wilson said, I hope you have a thick pad of paper and a couple of pens 'cause I got a lot to tell you." While Gibbs did not show any emotion outwardly, internally he was smiling as he lived for this stage of the investigation when criminals confessed to their crimes.

After a long, hard day in the air, Rabb was mystified by the sudden request to report to the bridge. Something was up. "Reporting as ordered, sir," said the CAG.

"Commander, we have a problem that needs to be resolved. We run specially equipped electronics surveillance aircraft around Iran two to three times a week to keep tabs on the neighborhood, especially their nuclear enrichment program, and a new base the Russians are building in Syria. We always make sure we are in international airspace and avoid encounters with generally Soviet aircraft, not Syrian, attempting to harass us. Lately this harassment by Soviet fighters has become more intense. With your expertise in International Law, you are the perfect aviator to work up a strategy that will both know when violations of International Law are occurring and how to deter this harassment without creating a diplomatic firestorm. That is all," said the captain.

How the hell am I going to perform this miracle? Guess the first stop is a visit with the carrier's G2 to get as much information as possible on the timing of these visits as well as anything else we know, thought Harm. As it turned out, the carrier's intelligence section had a surprisingly large body of information on the Russian fighters including photos of the MIG 29s, their origination point, flight patterns, and even the frequencies they were actively using. As the CAG studied the data, a plan started to form. First, he had to make a call. The call was to his Annapolis roommate, Jack Keeter, who was now XO at Top Gun to get some performance figures on MIG 29s. After the usual swapping of gossip about their friends and acquaintances, Harm got down to business. "Keeter, I need the latest performance data on the MIG 29. The Sovs are harassing our elint aircraft in the Arabian Sea. While previously they just did flybys, now they are actively harassing our planes. I have been assigned to create a plan within International Law to stop this harassment. I have a plan that I think might work to warn the MIGs off, but I need its performance data and I would like to run the plan by you to see if you can spot any holes," said Rabb.

"Sure buddy, give me a few minutes to pull up the latest classified data on the 29 and I will be back to ya," said Keeter. After receiving the performance data, Harm outlined his plan. After a couple of minutes of contemplation, Keeter started to discuss his thoughts on the plan. "The idea of putting a Tomcat into that giant blind spot beneath the engines of the MIG is good. There are reports of USAF pilots cruising back there for as long as 30 minutes with the MIG jocks none the wiser. I might suggest that you douse all electronics output while you are down there to make sure they do not pick up a stray signal. I have no data on airflow for the MIG so you probably should be careful how close you get to the aft fuselage to avoid a possible mid air collision. Other than that, sounds like a good plan," said Keeter.

His plan formulated, the last stop was the captain's away cabin to explain his proposal. Bligh was taken aback by the boldness of the plan, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. "It is a pretty gutsy move to fly directly under the MIG's engines when you have no idea of its airflow characteristics," said Bligh. Assured that it could be done, the captain was convinced but because of the diplomatic sensitivity and the powder keg nature of the area, he decided to refer it up to the CNO's office where it would no doubt be shared with the Sec Nav.

In the meantime, Harm went looking up James "Irish" Flynn to fill him in on his plan. Flynn was the best pilot in the squadron and had been an aviator for five years. "Irish, I have a special mission that I need your help for. We are going to shadow the MIG 29s that have been harassing our elint aircraft. Intelligence has found that they fly in formation out until they sight our aircraft. MIG 29s have a blind spot beneath their engines that will allow us to come up from below and nestle in while our photo plane records the whole thing. When we reach the intercept area we will pop up, line them up, and let them know that we can shoot them down anytime we want. I have presented the plan to the captain and he has endorsed it and forwarded it to Washington for their approval," said the CAG.

"How do we sneak up on them undetected, sir? What happens if they decide to fight?" asked Flynn.

"As we approach from beneath them, climbing vertically and then we snuggle in close. At this point we become invisible to them both visually and electronically since all of our electronics that have emissions will be turned off. That means no radar, no fire control system, and no radio. We will communicate with hand signals. If things deteriorate when they realize we have them by the ass, we already have the drop on them and since our fire control and radar are instant on devices that will allow us to instantly engage the Russians. Your RIO can handle getting everything on line while you are lining up the shot. I figure if things fall apart, we should be ready to fire in one second flat.

The next morning, the CAG was again summoned to the bridge. Captain Bligh informed Rabb that, " Washington liked the idea of shadowing the MIGs and popping up to let them see that we have the drop on them. They are naturally concerned that the MIGs may be stupid enough to fight. If that is the case, then we are to implement our standard aerial combat protocols. They want evidence that the Russians started any fight so how do we do that?"

"Photos are worth a thousand words, sir. I suggest installing long range cameras on two trailing Tomcats. Initially they would be following on the deck but just before we unmask our little surprise, they would climb to altitude and commence capturing images. One on each side of the formation to capture any action in a sort of stereo. Let the world see that we did not start the fight, only finished it. As added insurance, we could load the ship's photographer into the rear seat of one of the trailing Tomcats and let him capture additional action with another video camera as well," said the CAG.

"Excellent ideas, Commander. I will run these changes by Washington and see what they think. Dismissed," said Bligh.

The next day, Harm was once again summoned to the bridge. "Rabb, Washington has approved your plan. We are to implement it on the next recon flight which will be in two days time. We will receive full flight planning for the recon plane's mission twelve hours before the actual flight, so we can in turn plan our mission," said the Captain. Dismissed."

The day dawned clear, perfect for aerial recon work. Even though the actual mission would not launch for three hours, the CAG briefed the mission early to make sure everyone knew exactly what their job was, and what they had to do to achieve it. He and Irish would be the pop ups. Justice and Speed would fly the photo ships. Even thought their job was photo, both planes would be armed and should be ready to engage if needed. A successful unobserved intercept required a very precise set of aerial maneuvers to approach the MIGs unobserved. All four planes had practiced these maneuvers for hours and through trial and error made adjustments to the plan until everything was perfect.

The hour finally came for launch. As the Tomcats formed up for the flight to intercept the MIGs, they received positional updates from the Lincoln's Hawkeye. Within a few minutes of their take off, the Hawkeye reported that two MIGs, which it identified as MIG 29s, had just taken off from a base in Syria on an intercept course with the U.S. Air Force aerial intelligence gathering ship. In ten minutes they would know if their plan was successful or not.

"Badman One to all badmen we have confirmation that the bait has been taken. Move now to your combat positions and good luck," said the CAG. As they reached their IP, Hammer and Irish implemented their vertical climb with virtually everything that emitted electronic radiation turned off. Electronically, they were invisible. Slowly they approached the two MIGs until they were nestled in to the underside of the MIGs between the engines. So far, so good, thought Harm. As the American spy plane came into visual range, Harm gave the signal to pop up and activate their weapons systems while the Hawkeye gave the order for the photo ships to climb and activate their cameras.

Major Romanoff was just radioing instructions to his wing man on how they were going to harass the Yankee spy plane. "We will buzz them so close they will be wetting their pants and calling for their mothers," he said with a laugh. Unfortunately, at that movement his aft radar sent an alert that another plane was on his six followed by the shadow of an American Tomcat fighter darkening his cockpit. How could this be! We have taken every precaution! Do the Americans have some sort of cloaking device? No! thought the Major.

"Comrade major, I have a U.S. Navy Tomcat on my tail. Will we fight or break off and return to base?" asked his wing man, Lieutenant Gregeroff. "If we try to engage them, they are in a perfect position to blow us out of the sky in an instant!" he continued.

"You fool, you were supposed to be watching my six from hostiles! Orders call for us to just break off and return to base, so the smart play is to do just that. But I have a score to settle with the Americans for shooting down my closest friend, Major Ivanovich Putin. He was advising the Yugoslavian Air Force and got into a dogfight with an American Tomcat and lost. I am going to shoot down both these Tomcats for revenge and then I am going to harass the hell out of that spy plane! yelled Ivanovich. "Das Vidania, Yankees! You can follow orders and break off or you can achieve glory by joining me in my attack." With that he performed a split S which momentarily got him out of the line of fire.

Putin is crazy with revenge and has friends in the Politburo, so he can probably get away with disobeying orders. I have no influence anywhere and no desire to wreck my career by not following orders and following him, thought Gregeroff. With that, he broke off and headed back to Syria to report that Putin had disobeyed orders and started a dog fight with the Tomcats. As he did so, he shook his head and thought to himself, Das Vidania, Valentin. You are truly a brave and soon dead fool. Maybe if I hurry I can still catch dinner. I hear we are having horse meat.

"Badman Two, you follow the MIG breaking off to keep him honest while I deal with his buddy. Badman Three and Four continue the photo portion of the mission and be ready to jump in, if necessary," the CAG ordered. Then he called the Lincoln, "City Desk, Badman One, one MIG has broken off and heading for home, the second MIG has shown hostile intent. Request permission to fire."

"Badman One, permission granted. Good hunting," replied the carrier.

After issuing his orders, Rabb went into a sweeping turn to get a fix on just where Romanoff's MIG was. Challenger, his RIO, reported that he was two o'clock low about two miles out and climbing to intercept them. No problem, thought Harm as he cranked the Tomcat into a diving turn to make a head on pass at the MIG. In seconds the MIG and the Tomcat were on the same heading and altitude and had closed to cannon range as the Russian opened fire. Romanoff held his aircraft straight and level as he fired while Rabb dipped the Tomcat slightly below the MIG so that Russian's gunfire whizzed over the Tomcat. As the two fighters were just about to pass each other, the CAG raised the plane's nose slightly and peppered the MIG with a mix of incendiary, armor piercing, and explosive head rounds. Romanoff watched as his heads up gunnery projection display suddenly went dark and his instrument panel exploded, sending shards of glass and metal flying around the cockpit and into his face and upper torso. The wounds were bloody and painful, but the plane was still performing and the wounds only served to heighten his anger and desire to kill the Tomcat. As he started to look around for the American aircraft, he was surprised to find it slightly astern and off to the left side. Even though I am wounded and fire control is out the plane is still functioning, I still have the moves to get this guy. I will get him in a rolling scissors! he thought as he started his plane rolling towards the Tomcat.

Looks like he wants to transcend into a rolling scissors. One hell of a risky move. I'll say this, that pilot has guts, thought Rabb as he too initiated a continuous roll into the MIG.

A rolling scissors involves two adversaries and consists of a series of rolls towards each other, usually slowing with each turn, in the hopes of forcing the attacker to overshoot. Performed properly, it can cause the attacking aircraft to move far enough in front to allow the aircraft being attacked to turn the tables. It is a risky maneuver because any turning, rolling, or slow-speed disadvantage the pilot's aircraft might have compared to the enemy aircraft will quickly become evident in the scissors, and lead to defeat in short order. The winner in this type of engagement is almost always due to his opponent either slowing down too much or speeded up too much in relation to the other aircraft. This in turn allowed the one plane to position itself behind its opponent for the shoot down.

The Tomcat and the MIG continued their deadly dance until the Romanoff made the mistake of carrying a little too much power into the last roll sequence, allowing Harm to roll in behind him. This guy is very good but I am better, thought the MIG pilot. Unfortunately, his thought process was interrupted by the sound of the aircraft's locked on warning system beeping in his helmet. Romanoff immediately attempt to escape by going vertical, but his escape maneuver was cut short by a Sparrow missile exploding in his tailpipe. Romanoff's thirst for revenge and his life both ended in a blinding flash.

As Harm watched the flaming parts of the MIG tumble towards earth, he radioed the carrier. "City Desk, Badman One. One bandit has been destroyed and the second one is returning to his base under escort. Returning home." Then he radioed, Badmen Two break off escort and form up. Three, and Four close up on me, our work here is done and its time to head home," ordered Rabb.

Once over the carrier, Harm allowed his companions to land first while he requested permission for a low level pass down the port side. With a chuckle, Captain Bligh gave permission for the flyby. Rabb cranked his Tomcat into a tight turn to port and lined up for his run. At 250 knots the Tomcat streaked down the port side 300 feet above the waves as he performed a victory roll. Upon landing, his plane was mobbed by the deck crew. By the time he reached to island's hatch, he had shook so many hands and was clapped on the back so many times that his hand ached and his back was sore. Entering the island he was directed to the bridge to receive the captain's congratulations and to be notified that the press briefing was to be held at 1900 in the Ward Room.

At the briefing, Harm read a prepared statement outlining the battle and played selected portions of the video tape that Badman Three and Four shot of the intercept and subsequent hostile acts of the MIG. The video tape ended with a shot of the flaming MIG wreckage falling to earth. After viewing the tapes, previously skeptical reporters had to admit that the tape clearly showed that the Russian MIG was the aggressor. Following the usual question and answer period, the briefing ended and Rabb headed for the bridge. On the bridge, Bligh said, "Rabb you have done an outstanding job whipping the Raiders into shape. Even better, we have given the world clear evidence that the Russians were harassing our aircraft flying in international airspace. I doubt they will try that again for a long time. The video tape your team shot of the intercept was so good that Washington has informed me that the Russians have not uttered a peep about the incident. Apparently the Russian Ambassador left the meeting with the Secretary of State with a copy of the tape almost running and with a red face. But now, with regret, I have to let you go. Pugsley will be back tomorrow to resume command, so here are your new orders. You are going home, but your departure will be followed by a commendation." A quick read of the orders indicated that he was returning to JAG.

As Harm climbed off the C5 that had carried he and 200 other personnel home, he was met by Admiral Chegwidden. After a quick greeting, they headed for the parking lot with Rabb struggling to keep up while carrying his two suitcases and a B bag slung over his shoulder. Rabb expected the Admiral to take him to his house or perhaps even drop him at his apartment. He was wrong on both counts. They were headed to the Pentagon. Even though it was 2300 hours, the halls of the office complex still hummed with activity. After passing through security, they took an elevator to the third floor, the Secretary of the Navy's offices. They were met at the door by a Marine who ushered them into Sec Nav's private conference room adjacent to his office. Ten minutes later Sec Nav entered and got right down to business.

"Admiral, Commander, I called you both here tonight to update you on the Cresswell situation. All the pieces are in place. After reviewing the evidence, and his confederate's confession, the President has approved the plan to remove Cresswell and replace him with Admiral Chegwidden who, I am happy to say, has agreed to come out of retirement and once again lead JAG for the determinate future. Cresswell is reporting to me tomorrow morning where he will be given the choice of taking retirement or being tried on attempted kidnapping, and attempted murder charges. I feel confident that he will op to go quietly. We think we have enough with out adding the fraternization charge. MacKenzie will have a choice of courts marshal or standing an Admiral's Mast for her part in this. On another matter. Commander, I am told that under your leadership of an average squadron has been transformed into a first line squadron that has performed exceptionally well in supporting our ground troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. In addition, I read with great satisfaction the reports of your intercept of Russian MIGs harassing our intelligence gathering planes and the subsequent destruction of the fighter that initiated combat. The video tapes of that intercept and subsequent combat were fantastic in their clarity and the story they told. State was very pleased with them and credited their clarity with avoiding a diplomatic crisis with the Russians. Very well done. Looking forward, I will be relying on you to back stop the Admiral as he gets JAG straightened back out and running smoothly.

"Thank you Mr. Secretary. I will do my utmost to support Admiral Chegwidden's efforts," said Rabb.

The following morning General Cresswell reported to the Sec Nav's office thinking this was just a routine meeting on a mundane matter or perhaps to discuss his written proposal for the reorganization of JAG. With Rabb out of the way, Cresswell thought enough time had elapsed so that it was safe to put forward his vision for changes. Even though Rabb's TAD assignment was just about over, he would have him reassigned to some convenient duty wasteland where he would be out of the way until the reorg was complete and he could deal with him at his leisure. He had not forgotten the whipping he got at Quantico and by God, Rabb was going to PAY. With any luck, the office should be Marine green in under a year. As he was ushered into the Sec Nav's office by his smiling assistant Wendy, he was surprised to see not only Sec Nav, but also the Commandant of the Marine Corps, Chesty Puller, and retired Admiral Chegwidden in full uniform. None of them where smiling. Cresswell suddenly developed a knot in the pit of his stomach. Whatever the issue was, it wasn't good. Had his proposed reorganization gone too far? Had Wilson talked? Motioning for him to have a seat, Sec Nav got right down to business.

"General, I have invited you here this morning to give you a choice. You may retire effective immediately or you will be arrested and will stand trial on attempted kidnapping, and attempted murder charges. Your confederate in that little exercise you put on at Quantico to allegedly test Commander Rabb's survival skills was in fact a plot to kidnap him, beat him, and transfer him out of JAG has as they say in the movies, 'Sung like a bird'. Between the physical evidence and his testimony, it is very likely you would be convicted and sent to Leavenworth for at least 10 years. You have 10 minutes to think about which choice you want to make and an additional five minutes to write your request for retirement letter, if that is what you choose to do. Which ever choice you make, in twenty minutes you will either walk out of this office a retired general or be taken out in handcuffs to await trial. Your choice. Never in my life did I ever think that I would see such shameful behavior from a general officer! It is only because of your past exemplary career that I am giving you any choice at all." said Sec Nav with a look disgust.

The General's immediate inclination was to go to trial. I am a good lawyer, I am sure that I can get the physical evidence tossed out of court and make a monkey out of Wilson to boot. I am going to fight this!, thought the JAG. A glance at Admiral Chegwidden and then at the Commandant instantly changed his mind. He was through. Even if he won his case, the Marine Corps is a closely knit organization and it was apparent from the look on the Commandant's face that he would never be accepted back into the officer corps. Time to retire. With that he asked for a sheet of paper and a pen. Five minutes later, he was a civilian heading home to start a new life. How could this simple exercise have deteriorated to the point where he was forced to resign, he wondered as he left, Damn that guy Rabb. What am I going to tell Dora?

As Creswell was heading for the door, Harm was just getting off the elevator at headquarters. Everyone in the bullpen greeted him as well as the officers. Even Mac said, "Welcome back". As he started to enter his office, he was greeted by a contemptuous look from a Marine First Lieutenant who was using his office. Putting on his most stern command face and using his command voice he said, "Lieutenant, this is my office. Gather up your stuff and be out of here by the time I return with a cup of coffee!" With that he headed to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, hoping that his mug was still in the rack. It was. As he approached his office, he met the Marine double timing out of his office clutching his coat and the papers he was working on.

"Where should I go, sir," inquired the Marine officer.

"You can set up shop in the head or you may want to inquire with our chief of staff, Colonel MacKenzie," said the Commander again in his command voice.

With that, the young officer again double timed into the Colonel's office where he was greeted with a surprised look. After she seated the young lieutenant, she turned and gave Harm a disapproving look. Harm returned her look with his patented 'I could care less' look. Just as he set his coffee cup down, Admiral Chegwidden strolled past his door wearing a big smile and calling everyone to assemble. When everyone was in the bullpen and everyone had quieted down, the Admiral announced that General Cresswell had retired, effective that morning and that he was now resuming command of JAG. Rabb glanced over at Mac to take in her look of horror. Instructing everyone to return to work, he strolled into his outer office and relieved the Marine sergeant that had replaced Coates. Five minutes later, Coates was in the Admiral's office cleaning out all of Cresswell's personal items and boxing them up. As he sat down in his old office chair, Chegwidden reflected on how much he had missed this job. It was going to be a good day.

It was early afternoon before Admiral Chegwidden had finished going through all the matters that required his immediate attention. He put down his pen and called his yeoman on the intercom. "Coats, tell Colonel MacKenzie that I would like to see her." Ten minutes later the Colonel was standing at attention in front of the Admiral. One look at her face told the JAG that she knew she was in serious trouble.

"Colonel, I am surprised and disappointed by your behavior since I retired. An NCIS investigation triggered by the attempted kidnapping of Commander Rabb and your involvement in that survival exercise at Quantico has uncovered evidence that you engaged in fraternization with General Cresswell. Specifically, you had sex with him in contravention of regulations. I don't have any idea why you would do such a thing that has such serious consequences, but right about now, I don't care. So here's the deal. You can accept an Admiral's Mast or you can opt for an Article 32 and be charged with fraternization and proceed to court marshal. Take the day to think over my proposal and then return when you have made a decision. Dismissed," said the Admiral.

As soon as Mac left the Admiral's office she thought, this is all Rabb's fault. In the nine years we have been partners, every bad thing that has happened to me has been because of him. His turning me down in Sydney Harbor drove me into the arms of Mic Brumby with ultimately disastrous results. When I turned to him for help when Mic and I broke up, he dumped me out the door into a downpour so I could watch him console the Video Princess while I got soaked. That was so traumatic that it forced me to go TAD to the Guadalcanal for months. He gets himself charged with Singer's death and is mad at me for not coming to see him in jail - against Chegwidden's orders I might add, Yea, he saved my life in Paraguay and then drives me right into Webb's arms. Look how that turned out! He still looks down on me for my taking in MI6 agent, Simon Tanvir! How was I to know that he was now working for terrorists? Against my better judgment I stand up for him as a witness in court to recommend his guardianship of Mattie Johnson and then I talked her father out of objecting to the guardianship. How much thanks did I get for that? Bubkus! He is still holding my turndown of his marriage proposal against me. And now he is probably the one who blew the whistle on me for a little recreational sex with Cresswell. Given the General's future plans for JAG, l thought that would give me some pretty strong leverage that would insulate me from any issues that may come up. The more she thought about the perceived source of all her problems as she walked across the bullpen, the angrier she got. I am going to give Rabb a piece of my mind! First he sets a swarm of angry wasps on me and then he blows the whistle on me!, she thought.

With that she stormed into Harm's office without even knocking and slammed his door shut. Startled, Rabb spun around in his chair to see a livid marine staring at him.

"Chegwidden has just given me the choice of an Admiral's mast or a courts marshal because of supposed evidence turned up by the NCIS investigation that I had sex with Cresswell! You were out there, tell me what evidence do they think they have! Did you see me doing anything?" she shouted.

"We were hole up half a mile from your camp from when you two turned in until just before day break. So, no I didn't see a thing. I have not seen the evidence they have but since obviously no one witnessed the alleged act, it has to be physical. You have the right of discovery, so I suggest that you go and find out! Now, I have a case I need to get out for the Admiral by five so I will bid you a GOOD DAY COLONEL! Oh, and by the way, naturally there is NO WAY I could defend you if you decide to go to courts marshal. If you do decide to go in that direction, I would suggest that you hire a private firm. Perhaps Juanita Wexler would take the case," snarled the Commander.

With that, the Colonel was up and out the office door in one fluid movement. She thundered back to her office, slamming the door so hard it rattled the glass in offices three doors down, closed her blinds, and locked her door in preparation for sorting out her future. What a mess, she thought. With that, Mac swung into action to prepare a defense strategy just like she had done for others so many times over the years. She was able to obtain a copy of the NCIS findings in the case including Wilson's confession. While it made for interesting reading, the portion she was interested in was the DNA match analysis of the semen stains found on her under garment compared to Cresswell's cigar butt and his toothbrush. There was no getting around it. This was the damning evidence that would make the prosecution's case. After reading the report, she realized that she really had no option. She had to opt for the Admiral's Mast and hope that her career would be able to recover from the punishment. Her course of action set, she called Coates and set up a 1600 appointment with the Admiral.

Promptly at 1600, she presented herself at the Admiral's door and was told to enter immediately. A bad sign, she thought coming to attention before the Admiral's desk. As she remained at attention, Chegwidden came around his desk and snarled into to her ear, "Colonel, once again your behavior has disappointed me. Engaging in fraternization with a superior officer, especially a married officer was about the quickest way I know to kill a career. I thought you had learned this lesson years ago when you had that affair with Lieutenant Colonel Farrow and now here you are repeating that mistake all over again with equally poor results. What in heaven's name got into you? Don't you learn from past failures? If you had elected an Article 32, I am sure you know that the evidence is just so overwhelming that you would have been at the least found guilty and discharged from the Marine Corps with loss of all pay and benefits. I think that Creswell's operating style poisoned the atmosphere here and that the old Mac is still in there somewhere waiting to return. Therefore, you have six months to demonstrate that you can still perform at the level I expect my officers to achieve, otherwise you will be transferred to a much less desirable duty station to finish out your career. As far a promotions go, I will look at your performance in a year and decide whether or not I will recommend you for further promotion. Do you have any questions? No? Dismissed!"

With a parade ground about face, Mackenzie walked out of the Admiral's office with her head up and back straight back and across the Bullpen to her own office where she closed the door and burst into tears. How could I have been so stupid! The Admiral was right. I went down the same road I did with Farrow and got caught again. Now the Admiral will be looking over my shoulder at everything I do and Harm is done with me and will not raise a hand to help me out. It will be tough but I am a Marine and I can still cut it! I'll show both of them!, she thought.

On a Monday two months later, the former General Cresswell was loading the last of his belongings into his car as his wife Dora stood in the doorway of her home arms crossed and wearing a facial expression that said "Good Riddance". Also at that precise moment, Private Clarence Wilson was starting in processing for his 15 year stay at Leavenworth. Finally, at that same precise moment, retired Gunnery Sergeant RayCrockett was sitting in the local barber shop waiting his turn for a haircut. He busied himself by reading an old Navy Times. On the fourth page was a short paragraph on General Gordon Cresswell's sudden retirement as the Judge Advocate General and the return of retired Admiral A.J. Chegwidden to fill the post of JAG on an interim basis. Three pages further in was a short paragraph on the trial and conviction of Gunnery Sergeant Clearance Wilson for attempted kidnapping and attempted murder of an officer as well as the theft of a sniper rifle. The article indicated that he was sentenced to 15 years at hard labor in Leavenworth. Getting a big smile on his face, Ray thought to himself, Helping Rabb out in the bush was certainly worth the effort. In addition to a little sweet revenge, it was nice to see that those two bastards have finally gotten their just deserts.