Title: "Concurrence"
Author: Haruo Chikamori
E-mail:
Rating: M
Classification:
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: (A part of the Rising Flames – Timeline) After separation, fate brings old friends back together in Pearl.
DISCLAIMER: The characters Harm Rabb, Jr., Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, Meg Austin, AJ Chegwidden, Bud Roberts, Harriet Sims-Roberts et al. belong (in concept if not name) to CBS/Bellisarius. Animal and all OC characters are the property of Heather and Haruo Chikamori. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended.
Author's Note: This story is the first in a series of stories that will revamp my entire Animal /Harm series. When my laptop which held my carefully crafted timelines for my characters bit the dust, I had to create a new one thus creating some confusion and unfortunate timeline and story conflicts. In an attempt to clear them all up, I'm going to have to revamp my entire story-line and in the process, if my muse ever decides to cooperate, I will write my story from the very beginning of Harm going to the Naval Academy all the way through to their retirement (provided my lifespan gives me that much time).
Author's Note: Admiral Amanda Tucker is a character that was created by the late byrhthelm and in his memory, I am going to use her as one of the characters in this story. It's just a way to keep the memory of a friend alive.
Dramatis Personae
Hal "Breaker" Breckinridge – Admiral, CNO, former naval aviator
Dale "Rattler" Kinnick – Admiral, CINCNAVEUR, later CINCPAC
Toshio "Animal" Nakamura – former Rear Admiral (upper half), now Vice-AdmiralCOMBATGRP 2, pro-tem CINCPAC and will become DCINCPAC under Kinnick
Amanda Tucker – Vice-Admiral, Judge Advocate General of the United States Navy (character created by Byrhthelm)
Jeff Nakauchi – Captain, CO, RLSO Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
Meg Nakamura – Captain, XO, RLSO Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
Tracy Manetti – Captain, Judge Advocate General Corps,
Harmon Rabb Jr. – Commander, Staff N-3
Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie – Lieutenant Colonel, Staff, N-3
Beth "Skates" Hawkes – Commander, Naval Aviator, CO VFA-41 Black Aces
Jennifer Coates – Master Chief Petty Officer, Admiral's Enlisted Chief of Staff
Bud J. Roberts – Commander, JAGC
Harriet Sims-Roberts – Commander, Dept. Public Affairs.
Naval Station Pearl Harbor, Joint Base Hickman, Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, March 18, 2009. 0700hrs
The frangipani blossoms permeated the air with a scent that whispered of romantic vacations. The warm breeze off the ocean brought yet another aroma of salt to the mixture. The sun, just past its median, radiated a warmth that was welcome yet not oppressively hot. This was March and Hawaii was a place where most would consider a holiday destination.
However the tall, dark-haired naval officer, dressed in the uniform of the day was here for one thing and one thing only – his first duty station after pleading and begging his duty officer to get back into the United States Navy. It meant that everything he had done up to this point counted for nothing. He was down at the bottom of the promotion pile and he rued the day that he had turned down his assignment to Fleet Force JAG. That was a misstep according to the Navy brass back at the five-sided edifice; the pinnacle of Naval Command structure.
Since he had not completed the requirements to retain an O-6 rank, he was now back at the rank that he had last held successfully and served the time for: O-5, the rank of commander in the United States Navy. He would have to work his way back up. Considering how long he'd been out of the Navy, he was lucky if he would see another promotion ever in his life. According to the Pentagon, he was persona non grata as far as the promotion boards were concerned.
He had his orders: Report to the Battlegroup Commander, CVN 71 at the offices in Pearl and COMBATGRP2 would determine if the wayward commander had a place within the Navy structure to get back into the good graces of the Navy high command. He would plead and beg if he had to. The COMBATGRP2 had a reputation for being a hard-ass and Harm knew that he had blown his chances of ever seeing flag-rank with how badly he'd stepped wrong. This was going to take some convincing for the Navy command structure to ever see promise in him again. He would have to practically be more obsequious than everyone else and kiss more ass than he ever wanted to in order to even have his jacket looked at with any sort of deliberation as to his merit. To the promotion boards' opinion Commander Harmon Rabb Jr.'s career stunk worse than five year old limburger left out in the sun to ferment. It was actually turning into Casu Marzu liberally sprinkled with maggots.
You never, ever turn down a command...had been drummed into him in the Naval Academy. Why the hell did he take leave of his senses and commit the most sacreligious decision to any promotion board that could ever be done? And his detailer, still absolutely pissed at him for reserving his commission, certainly didn't make it easy on him to repair his mistake. He had assigned him to the toughest commanding officer of flag rank that he could ever devise as a test of penance. Harmon Rabb would be going through the Nine Rings of Hell. Time to bell the tiger. Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. thought as he opened the main door to the offices of the Commander, Battle Group 2. He stepped through and strode up to the Command Master Chief Petty Officer who was at the front desk announcing his presence.
"Good afternoon, Commander Rabb. Have a seat and the Admiral will call you in at his convenience."
Rabb thanked him and found a seat to sit down on.
Office of the COMBATGRP 2, Joint Base Hickam, Honolulu, Hawaii
"Admiral, Commander Rabb is here to see you."
The rear admiral upper half ran his hand through his jet black hair which was liberally dotted with gray, a grim look playing across his face, as he ran through the officer's jacket. Turned his last assignment down back in 2002. He's lucky he's even getting a chance to get back into uniform.
"Call the XO for JAG Pearl into my office. Tell her to come through the back door." the admiral said to his yeoman, "I'll see Rabb at my convenience. I don't care if he has to sit for an hour."
The XO of RLSO Pearl's office was across the base from the offices of COMBATGRP2 thus it would take at least fifteen minutes for her to appear in front of his desk. But when she did, her countenance was one of wry amusement.
"Sir, are you saying that Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. is trying to get back into the Navy?"
"That I am." the COMBATGRP2 stated, grimacing. "He pissed off the promotion boards quite well and what they expect me to do is to punish him thoroughly so that he is well aware of the fact that he has no more chances. He might get his eagles if he sticks his nose to the grindstone and works himself half to death. But the likelihood of the promotion board considering his file for promotion is slim to none. Captain, I need you to sit in on this conversation and determine if he's serious about making an attempt to turn his career around. I'm not going to stymie a good officer's career just because the promotion board doesn't like the way it went nor am I going to block another upwardly mobile officer to hand a position to an officer who isn't serious about rectifying his mistake."
"Yes, sir."
"I want him thrown off balance. He's going to come in cock-sure of himself and wanting things to go his way. I intend to make certain that he's kept behind the power-curve at least in this interview."
The XO of RLSO Pearl looked at her fourth finger of her left hand. "I'm sure he will be thrown off by my presence, not to mention…I'm sure he's well aware that we're married, but that's always been a sore spot with him." she trailed off with a grin aiming a look at COMBATGRP2's ring finger on his hand that was splayed across the top of Rabb's file. It wore a matching ring. COMBATGRP2 gave the XO, RLSO Pearl Harbor a that's exactly what I want grin. Rabb knew of his marriage to Meg Austin and frankly, his discomfort about the marriage stemmed from the fact that he had once had designs on Meg since they had worked together as investigators at JAG in the Navy Yard in DC. Meg and the COMBATGRP2 had been married since 1997, however Rabb and he had not been stationed near each other for quite some time now and as communications between the two were sparse since his departure from JAG and his subsequent reserving of his commission, Rabb wasn't in the know as to how Meg and the COMBATGRP2 were doing lately.
"Yeoman," the COMBATGRP2 ordered his CMCYN, "Send Commander Rabb in."
The two stars on the collars of the COMBATGRP2 definitively threw Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. off right from the get-go. "Sir!" then spotting the other occupant of the room stammered, "Me-" nearly saying her first name, realizing that she outranked him. Had he already forgotten the promotion in the JAG bullpen, back in 2005? Berating himself, Good job, Hammer, nearly put both feet in your mouth this time, Harm clamped his mouth shut, corrected course then continued with a "uh...Ma'am." as he entered the room noticing the blonde Navy captain, with JAG mill-rinde on her hard shoulderboards just above her rank, sitting just right of the COMBATGRP2's desk. He recognized her but he was thrown off by the shorter hairstyle...just enough to nearly commit a gaffe that could have been disastrous if she had chosen to be a hard-ass about it – it had been a while since the two had laid eyes on each other – not since Meg had been promoted to Captain and had gone to successfully command Fleet Force JAG in London. She acknowledged his gaffe with a raised eyebrow and a decorous nod, "Commander Harmon Rabb reporting as ordered." Bracing to attention as a reminder to himself of military discipline he finally got his tongue untied enough to report in properly.
The COMBATGRP2 grunted a reply not even noting Harm's disconcertment, "Rabb. Take a seat."
"Aye, sir." Rabb sat down quietly in the chair.
"I've been going over your file." Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. startled as the rear admiral shot him a grim look, "Why did you turn down the assignment to Fleet Force JAG? I would have thought that would have fast-tracked you admiral's stars." When the commander sheepishly told him what had transpired the admiral shot a look at him as if Rabb was a complete and utter brainless moron.
Harm had to restrain himself to not cast glances at the XO of RLSO Pearl: his brain now having regained its footing meant that he realized that Meg had come back from Fleet Force JAG and after several years working in the JAG office in the Navy Yard as Chief of Staff to Cresswell, she had been assigned to the Region Legal Services Office at Pearl Harbor. His mind turned cartwheels as he pondered the whereabouts and wherefores of one Meg Austin and how she had changed so much from the eager lieutenant junior grade he had once known into the eagles-wearing O-6 that was sitting beside the COMBATGRP2.
She came back to JAG as a Lieutenant who had just come back from Weapons Development and newly married (the news of her nuptials in Naples had then leveled him about as flat as the proverbial pancake), then had quickly been deep-selected to Lieutenant Commander. He'd remembered her pregnancy when she and Animal had had pre-parental jitters and then the second pregnancy and her growth as an lawyer and a top-notch investigator in her own right. Harm had been there when she was promoted from Lieutenant Commander to Commander. He'd been sad when she had spousal co-located to Lemoore to be with her husband when he'd taken over the VF-126 Cylons an aggressor squadron that made up the Topgun adversary squadron that beat up on unwary naval aviators who thought they were the hottest thing to fly the top-line fighter of the United States Navy. Harm was ecstatic when she had returned to Falls Church when her husband had been promoted to Captain and became CAG of CVW-12.
He had known the happily married Meg Austin newly promoted from Commander to Captain, but she had now had time to mature for several years into the Captaincy and she looked every bit the part of a senior officer now – calm and collected and secure in her position. She was dressed in service whites, with shoulderboards, unlike the admiral who was in summer khakis. The crisp white service uniform highlighted the shoulder-boards that featured four gold stripes on both right and left shoulders. Rear Admiral Toshio "Animal" Nakamura sat in front of him behind his desk of his post, Commander, Battlegroup 2, flagship, the USS Theodore Roosevelt, CVN-71; two brightly shined collar-rank-sized stars on each of his khaki collars, in a neatly ironed and pressed set of USN certified navy twill khakis, gold naval aviator wings above his expansive ribbon rack; his uniform presumably ironed with love by Meg. Spousal co-location hits again? It looked as though Meg was giving Harm a look of pity insofar as the fact that he had stepped on a BuPers landmine as far as promotion was concerned and it had blown up in his face. Meanwhile, the officers in front of him were upwardly mobile. Meg could potentially top out at three stars if she chose to stay in the Judge Advocate General track versus going to a four-star staff billet; Animal would top out at four since the office of the Chief of Naval Operations was looking more and more likely as the years went by. At least they hadn't tried to place their hopes and dreams at the altar of one Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie.
Was he bitter? He had every right to be. He had thrown away his career twice now and both times, the reason was the brunette Marine that he had inexplicably fallen head-over-heels for.
Once before, when he cast his commission off defying RADM AJ Chegwidden to run down to Paraguay to try and rescue Mac. Of course when he got there, he found out that Clayton Webb and Mac's so-called charade of married couple seemed to be more than just a front to get Clay closer to Sadik Fahd. He found out that Mac and Clay were involved. If he had been smart, he should have walked away then. It was only the magnanimous gesture of reconciliation by RADM AJ Chegwidden and the intercession by SECNAV Edward Sheffield that had managed to get him back into uniform back then.
But then he had to get roped into Mac's woe is me machinations and he had been reeled in one more time to once again be cast off. Now...he was completely and utterly screwed if his former RAG mentor didn't give him a chance. It did look as though Animal was considering it but he was going to damned well make sure that Rabb would be put through the wringer.
Harm and Mac had truly given it a try to manage to get their relationship back on track, but the fact was that every time they had set a date, something had come up or Mac had gotten cold feet about the whole date and wanted it rescheduled. After multiple times of setting a date and having to back out of it, Harm got tired of the runaround and started looking at getting back in the Navy. That didn't go over well with Mac who saw it as a betrayal of his promise to always be by her side and play Mr. Mackenzie while she still had a Marine Corps career. Harm saw it as insurance just in case she bailed as prior conduct spoke to the fact. In the end after numerous arguments, they had decided to have separate lives. He had not heard once from Mac after they had parted. And frankly his life had gone much smoother since then even if it was lonelier.
He'd had his share of dates since Mac left, however nothing came of them. He'd been present at the JAG office when Meg had been promoted to Captain by MGEN Gordon Cresswell – had even helped to pin one of the four ringed hardboards on her shoulders, however the fact that she still had her four rings, had successfully completed her post as Fleet Force JAG in London and was now in a position to take a serious run at being confirmed a one-star. The realization that she was now in a position that assured her of achieving her first star within the next three years; that his former legal partner with whom he'd professionally spent most of his first year at JAG and a lot of years since 1997 when she had returned was now in a position to have her career go stratospheric shocked him. That epiphany deeply hurt even though he knew that he had stepped on a career landmine through his own making when he'd made the Faustian bet to Sarah Mackenzie to let fate decide. Captain Meg Austin-Nakamura, United States Navy, Executive Officer, Navy Region Legal Services Offices – Pearl Harbor, was definitely upwardly mobile, first on the promotion lists and had a personnel jacket with presumably no reprimands and no missteps for any boards to tsk-tsk about. And it hurt Harm that she was looking at her former legal partner without a shred of interest other than pity for the misstep that Harm had taken in his career especially since they had teased each other shamelessly almost bordering on flirtation throughout their first year as investigation partners.
In fact, his best friend in JAG, to qualify just how much Harm was out of step, Lieutenant Commander Bud Roberts was now Commander Bud Roberts equalling him in rank and had two years in grade. If things went well, Bud would be promoted to Captain and outrank him unless Harm had the opportunity to gain the good graces of COMBATGRP2, didn't step wrong again...ever...and did whatever the COMBATGRP2 ordered him to do promptly without fail.
All because of a cursed coin flip...basking in the afterglow of rashly promising each other forever without taking into account their past nine years of history which should have warned Harmon Rabb Jr. off from ever thinking about getting into a relationship with one Sarah Mackenzie if his brain was even functional at the time. Obviously he was thinking with the other proverbial male brain.
"So...do you think that you deserve a second chance?" Animal countered. "I have a stack of personnel records I'm going through for recommendation to the promotion boards. What makes you think that you deserve to slide in to a position that I could use for someone who has promotion prospects?" Woah...that was a heater of a question. In fact it would have sizzled right past him if he had been in the batter's box. Strike one!
"Sir, I know I stepped wrong when I refused the position at Fleet Forces JAG. I'm willing to do whatever scutwork is needed to free up a potential promotion-eligible officer. I will gladly accept any position you offer me. I know I'm not going to see the inside of a promotion board unless I'm really lucky." Harm stated. Let's see if that works...this was probably a straight pitch in the seventh inning to throw off the hitter, but who knows if it'll work.
"You'll accept any position offered?" Oh damn! And Animal had wound up and smacked that sucker out of the ballpark. The COMBATGRP2 asked, raising an eyebrow. Harm wilted visibly as he saw Animal had an evil glint in his eyes. "Even if that means being the corrosion control duty officer on board the USS Theodore Roosevelt and any other ship in Sixth Fleet that needs such maintenance?" Harm was damned sure that Animal was taking unholy glee to a new level.
Harm's heart fell into his shoes. "Aye-aye, sir."
Animal let him swing on that rope for a long while allowing that thought to percolate and deepen Harm's despair. "I need to retain that position vacant for my wayward officers…" Animal decided. "What you will be is a secondary staff officer to my aide-de-camp. As a commander, you will be second-in-command of my admiral's staff. You will be reporting to Captain Alan Fry. You will obey his orders as if they were my own. Understood, Commander?" A sense of relief washed through Harm. Once again, Animal was bailing his ass out, just like his big brother from another mother always had when they were flying together in the Black Aces and with the Howlers.
"Aye-aye, sir!" Harm responded eagerly.
"I would also suggest that you get current on type. I'll give you the time to stay current." Animal noted Harm's aviator wings with a nod. "If you plan to get back into the saddle...you are going to have to make use of that designator if you're going to be on my staff." Animal grinned evilly as Harm's eyes widened. "Don't look so surprised, Rabb, I plan to make use of you and you are going to work for me...till your fingers turn into little bloody nubs." Meg was trying her best not to laugh as Harm's anxiety levels ramped up to new heights. Her husband just loved torturing Harm especially after he'd done the never-do faux pas of turning down an assigned duty station.
All this and flying too? Harm was exulting inside even while trying to maintain a truly penitent gaze at the COMBATGRP2. Was this actually a punishment or did he just fall into heaven's lap?
"Understand that if you get wayward feet again, I will cut the floor out from under you. Am I clear, Mr. Rabb?" Animal growled. "Make sure that you realize clearly that this is your very last chance the Navy will ever give you. And that you had better make it count this time."
"Aye-aye, sir!"
"Now...go report to Captain Fry and get your bearings straight 'cause I'm going to be putting your ass to work."
Three weeks later
Harm was just starting to realize just how much shit he'd stepped in. Captain Alan Fry was a ball-buster, he had certain ways of making reports for the admiral and Harm had to come up to speed on those tasks. Nothing could be missing. Everything had to be collated just so. And a verification checklist was also in the morning information folder for the rear admiral. Harm had never seen this much paperwork, even at JAG headquarters. On top of that, he was scheduled to go to VF-124 for RAG training to get back in type on the F/A-18C and the F/A-18E and F. When Animal stated that he was going to grind Harm through the wringer-washer, he meant it. No detail was too small to ignore and Captain Fry made absolutely certain to make sure that what Harm was producing was up to evaluation with a microscope.
Each detail was earmarked for easy dissemination and briefing of the admiral so that the necessary information was relayed through the command. It took Harm a while to go through the information and determine what was necessary to include in the morning briefing and what was extraneous crap that could be circular filed. Animal liked his briefing short and to the point. The main adversaries in the Pacific were the Chinese and the Russians. Of course the Russians focused their main naval might in the Black Sea, which was an Atlantic Fleet problem. But there was still the fleet based out of Sakhalin. The RLSO XO was often at those meetings as she was the one that basically laid down the rules of engagement for the fleet on how to go about maintaining Pacific superiority without pissing off the Chinese...and by extension: the Russians. The last thing they wanted was a shooting war as opposed to the somewhat armed stand-off they currently had. The Chinese had their own fleet that was quite capable despite the disparaging comments from the peanut gallery. Animal was not going to take the Chinese lightly. To do so would be a costly mistake. The Chinese had nuclear capable anti-ship missiles, which Animal was quite certain that the Chinese would use if it came to it. The threats in the Pacific extended to India and the Philippines which had been in some upheaval, so Animal had a dossier on that. Minimizing potential foes was not a good tactic and Animal held to the belief that knowing your enemy before they became your enemy was the wisest course of action. This meant that Harm had to think like his commanding officer and make sure that the briefing dossier had that kind of information in it. Animal was a stickler for making sure that the briefing that he got covered the current threat picture for the battle-group as they prepared for deployment.
"Make sure that he gets the current four-one-one on the Philippine insurrection." Captain Fry said. "I heard that Aquino was ousted."
"Really?"
"The new guy isn't friendly towards the United States."
"Well...shit." Harm muttered.
"Admiral wants to know the current strength of the Philippine Marines, Navy and Air Force. That's if we have to tangle with them...he wants to know just what they can potentially do if they turn the other way." Captain Fry looked at him with a dour expression. "He's been talking about the Philippine election for quite some time now and it's like he's prescient."
"Well, I guess he always believes in being prepared for anything." Harm replied as he heaved an internal sigh. This was going to be insanely difficult to keep tabs on everybody in the Pacific. But that's what he was tasked to do. And then on top of that, whenever Animal stated so, Harm was going to Pacific Coast RAG on the mainland to train for three months to get back in the cockpit of a Hornet – legacy or Super. He didn't want to be behind the power curve when he got back to his staff duties. When Animal had stated that he was going to throw the book at him, he wasn't kidding. Harm had enough stuff on his plate for three officers, not just himself with staff duties...and then on top of that, when he went home at night, he had to stick his nose in the NATOPS and the flight training manuals for the F/A-18C Hornet as well as the F/A-18E and F Super Hornets. The poor guy was going to crash hard physically.
ONI Office, Pentagon
"Lieutenant Colonel, I've been told that you've been looking into an intelligence career with us?"
"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Colonel Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie stood ramrod straight, clad in Class B Service Greens. "I've been interested in the intelligence end of things for quite some time now. Of particular interest is threat-assessment."
"Very good." Vice Admiral Adrian Conway glanced at his file then up at the brunette who was standing in front of his desk at the position of attention. "At ease, Lieutenant Colonel." He noticed in the file that she had been a Lieutenant Colonel for quite some time – passed over a number of times. "up or out?"
"Elected to serve my time in uniform until mandatory retirement, sir." There would be no more promotions for Sarah Mackenzie – the guru she'd had protecting her had retired himself. There were too many black marks against her service file for her to ever see her eagles. "Just wanted to be in a position where I can be of some use to the Navy and Marine Corps."
"Well that can be done…Right now we have a position open at the Office of Naval Intelligence in Pearl Harbor. Would you be interested. Things are heating up in the Pacific and well, the COMBATGRP2 needs a good solid intelligence type briefing his N3s on the current state of affairs. I believe you're the right person for the job."
"Sir, yes, sir." Lieutenant Colonel Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie felt her spirit lift. At least she would be in a position where she could make the best of a bad situation. Her promotion prospects had been extinguished but at least she could do the best possible job to protect her country and that was the reason she was still in uniform.
"I'd like you to, as most of the operatives in Naval Intelligence, strive to do your position as much in civilian clothes. That way we are not pegged as military. Do you have a wardrobe of civilian attire?" Considering the fact that she had been in the military, most of her clothes were uniforms. The admiral inclined his head towards her as he stated, "I think you might have to get most of your clothes updated." She had maybe four or five pantsuits and skirts of civilian wear, mostly eighties cut; rarely ever worn – which meant that she would have to dip into her savings to modernize her wardrobe. Hopefully she would be given enough time to get her things together before she had to head to Pearl or she'd be paying out the nose for things. "The COMBATGRP2 is wanting an update of the threat assessment in the Pacific. You'll be given one week from today to be in Pearl ready to give your assessment of the current threats in the region. Of particular interest is the Philippines."
"The Philippines, sir?" Mac was surprised. "I thought they were our allies."
"They were…" VADM Conway said grimly, "But they've been making noises about approaching China and Russia for their military weapons ever since the election. We thought it was rhetoric, but we were mistaken. The COMBATGRP2 has been noisy about the fact that we needed to make sure that our threat assessment included allies for quite some time however we dropped the ball on this one – got to give him credit that he kept yelling like the boy who cried wolf."
Mac was even more surprised that COMBATGRP2 was that persistent. Most when shut down like that would have quietly done their own thing, but RADM Toshio "Animal" Nakamura was not one to go quietly into the night. He dogged the Pentagon's ass like a rabid Rottweiler going after a postie's leg until he got heard or got shot; one or the other. The other thing was that wherever RADM Nakamura was, most likely, his ever-present shadow, Harmon Rabb Jr., was going to be. And well, even if that was the case, she was there to do a job.
When the meeting was done, Mac hurried out of the Pentagon and headed straight to the mall. She would have to get herself some decent civilian attire for work and be ready to go through all the hoops that were necessary to get her from DC to Pearl Harbor expeditiously. It was about ten and a half hours later, when Mac had finally taped the last of her boxes from her apartment in Georgetown ready to be shipped off to Pearl Harbor. Dinner was plain ramen noodles. She was too tired to do anything else. Plus she had a flight to Hawaii tomorrow morning and she had to get some sleep before then.
The alarm clock went off way too early for her liking, but 0500 was her wake-up. Coordinating everything with the movers to get the shipment to Marine Corps Logistics command who would send all that stuff to Pearl Harbor upon her dropping off the key to their office...she would catch a flight out of the local airport cross country to Los Angeles where she would catch a connecting flight from there to Pearl where she would probably get in at three in the morning of the following day. Her car was being shipped across too, so frankly, that was going to be a headache and a half because she would have to catch a cab from Marine Logistics Command to the local airport and hopefully she wouldn't miss her connection.
From Georgetown to Marine Logistics Command was a drive of at least four hours and thankfully she was going the other way since the Beltway was clogged and getting out of the DC area was going to be a headache. Traffic was insane going into DC, but since she was heading out into Virginia, it wasn't going to be as bad a trip out. She did manage to make it to the Marine Logistics Command office and was able to hand them an inventory manifest that included her vehicle which would be carefully wrapped and sent on the next C-17 out of the base along with the rest of her belongings. Calling a cab, she waited out front. When the cab arrived, she stated the name of the local regional airport and was driven there.
It was about an hour and a half later that she was on the plane, seated and ready to feel the pushback, when her phone rang.
"Mackenzie!" she picked up the call and answered.
"Lieutenant Colonel?" the female voice, with a Texas accent, came over the phone line. "I'm your liaison with the Pearl Harbor JAG office. I'm Captain Meg Nakamura. United States Navy." Meg? She's in Hawaii? Mac thought, This is better if it is Meg Austin-Nakamura.
"Ma'am!"
"I hear you're on the plane to Pearl now. I'd like to meet you in our office to go over some of the things that we will be briefing RADM Nakamura on."
"Will that be before or after I check into ONI Pearl, Ma'am."
"After would be fine. I'll give you my phone number. Give me a call when you're done in-processing with the ONI office." Meg stated.
"Will do, ma'am."
"Have a nice flight, Colonel." Meg said and signed off. Rather brusque and formal, but well, if it's a reunion of former friends, I'll take what I can get.
Meg? But she had called herself Meg Nakamura not Meg Austin-Nakamura or had she over the years just taken to dropping the Austin and referring to herself as Meg Nakamura? COMBATGRP2 was RADM Toshio Nakamura. That was uncertain. Mac thought to herself. Could there be any Japanese-American Texans working out of JAG RLSO Pearl Harbor. Certainly there were quite a few Japanese Americans in Hawaii but they wouldn't have the Texas accent so readily apparent in that particular region of the United States. It had to be the Rear Admiral's Meg. And how many Japanese Americans were living in Texas, not really the hotbed of diversity. Well, I'll find out when I get there.
Finally Mac gave up trying to figure out the mental conundrum and just let the hissing noise of the equalization pressure of the airliner to Los Angeles lull her into sleep. Flying four hours west put the time at just after one in the afternoon Pacific Time with a total time of six hours in the air accounting for time differences. From there, there was a four hour wait to connect to an aircraft that would take her to Honolulu International Airport. From there, she would catch a flight to Joint Base Hickam.
Joint Base Hickam, Honolulu, Hawaii
Commander Beth "Skates" Hawkes smiled as she got out of her F/A-18F Super Hornet. After completing a backseat to front conversion, the former RIO and Weapons Systems Officer was now a naval aviator. Her vision unlike other naval radar intercept officers had never been in question. She was 20/20 in both eyes uncorrected. It was a change from climbing into and getting out of the rear cockpit. She was now climbing into and getting out of the front seat. After all, it had been a helluva process. Learning the flight controls was a new experience, yet it seemed natural after all the years of being in the back seat. Instead of the wings of a Naval Flight Officer she now wore the wings of a Naval Aviator. In fact her former driver was the first to congratulate her on her achievement.
She was also the Commanding Officer of VFA-41 Black Aces having been taken on strength a year earlier after a stint as XO of the squadron under Commander Kimber Benton, now Captain and Commander Air Wing 12.
She was a former Raptor but she now looked down at the renowned playing card and ace of spades patch on her flight suit with pride. So much history behind this squadron with the Su-22 shootdowns in the Gulf of Sidra, blooding the F-14 for the very first time with two kills, then the now COMBATGRP2 as a lieutenant commander ended up in 1990 shooting down an F-15J and an F-2A with the Black Aces bringing the squadron's tally to four as well as several other kills by other squadron members during that spat with Japan during a trade war that had resulted in a takeover by JASDF and JGSDF forces while a coup of the government was going on. That ultimately ended in failure when the might of the US Pacific fleet was launched against Japan to recover US forces who had been taken hostage in Japan. All in total, the F-14 thanks to that dispute now had a kill record of 24 with 21 of the kills coming from the VF-41 Black Aces at the time. It was still a toss-up as to whether the Black Aces would be the first to blood the Super Bug.
"Hey, Skates…we're in Paradise. What a gig we landed!"
"Not bad of a flight. Hopefully we won't get turned around and told to go back to Lemoore." She responded to her WSO's exuberance with a bit of wistfulness, "Would like to get some time on the beach for a change especially if we're visiting Hawaii.
"Subject to the needs of the Navy…" Lieutenant Commander David "DavyBoy" Smith grinned at her. He was called Davyboy due to the fact that he was constantly watching wrestling and his facial features matched the former WWE wrestler. He paused for a long moment giving her a thoughtful look, "You miss the Tomcat?"
"Yeah. It would have been nice to have transitioned to the front seat on those." The Tomcat had been retired and frankly, VF-41 had been one of the first squadrons to transition to the F/A-18F Super Hornet. Skates tried not to think of the fact that her eighteen month hitch as VFA-41 squadron commander was nearly up.
There were seven other F/A-18Fs that had taxied in and parked for this partial deployment to the Pacific Fleet Base. It was mainly for an exercise against the Japanese Air Self Defence Force F-15Js that were also flying in from Yasukuni Air Base in Japan to take part. Operation Ardent Spear. The Japanese called it something else. But at least they were going to be on the same page. These exercises were done with the intention of maintaining air superiority over the Far East. However, it put the Japanese at odds with the Chinese and Koreans (both North and South vintage). The South Koreans were longtime allies of the United States however, they had no love at all for the Japanese, owing as to the atrocities committed by the Japanese towards all Koreans in WWII.
It meant that there was no way to bring them together to cohesively develop a mutual defense pact either, which was why the South Koreans wouldn't be joining the exercises in conjunction with the Japanese. It was either one or the other. It was futile to get the South Koreans to join in on the exercises. Frankly, it would be easier to herd cats.
Considering the noises the Chinese were making in the Far East, it was certainly a situation that could blow into an out-of-control fire. But this was beyond Skates' paygrade. All she had to concern herself with was flying these exercises with the Japanese and perhaps later on this year with the South Koreans. Maybe once she made it to War College, she'd be able to understand the strategic part of the defense initiative a lot better than she currently did.
Office of the COMBATGRP2, Joint Base Hickam, Honolulu Hawaii, the same morning.
Admiral Hal Breckenridge III, Chief of Naval Operations had made War College a must for further promotion. All flag officers had to have a degree in Strategic Studies from War College. From the lowliest one-stars to the highest four-stars in the Navy, they all had advanced education at War College or were making plans to go. It was either that or get stomped on by up or out. The decision by Breckenridge had extended to all services in the United States Military. You had to have a degree from War College in order to get ahead in your military career.
Animal grunted a curt reply to Commander Harmon Rabb Jr., as the latter placed the morning briefing of strategic threats in the area in Animal's in-box, about-faced and headed back out the door. Animal, unlike most officers, wasn't a stickler for absolute military courtesy of wait until the superior officer acknowledges you until proceeding to the next action – that was just a waste of time. As far as he was concerned, there were more important things to bitch about. Information was one of them. If Animal wasn't happy, his N-1s weren't happy, if his N-1s weren't happy, his N-2s heard about it...and they weren't happy...and so forth down the line until everyone wasn't happy. It was the classic example of shit trickling downhill. And unlike most sticklers for military courtesy, Animal's unhappiness could bear fruit of devastating consequence – namely a World War.
Frankly it was that unhappiness that caused Captain Alan Fry and Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. to be standing at attention in front of Animal's desk not more than fifteen minutes later while Animal ripped them a new orifice for not being thorough.
"Why is it that I have to hear that Malaysia got new Su-27Ms...through the AVIATION WEEKLY!? That should have been one of the first things in the file. I don't give a flying fuck if it takes you till midnight poring through every bit of information that comes through. When I state that I want all information on strategic threats in the area, that is what I am looking for. Up until now, Malaysia was utilizing cast-off J-7s from from the Chinese, now they have a credible fourth-generation air threat. Do you understand the chess pieces at play? Captain!? Do you, Commander?!" Animal paced the room, while the tension grew higher. "Right now, the Malaysians are playing both sides of the fence. They're trying to make nice with us while playing the Russians – If their government flips to the Russian Federation, we have a new threat in the area. The Russians will have a strategic asset in the South Pacific from where they can additionally base long-range bombers. Do you understand? What keeps the Chinese from doing the same thing? Relations between the two have been frosty mainly because of the fact that Chinese keep building islands in the area. These are the little chess pieces you need to be thinking about when you're building my briefing for dissemination in the mornings. Do you understand the big picture now?" He growled as he tossed the folder on the table.
"Aye-aye, sir!"
"Captain, dismissed, Commander, a moment."
Harm had wanted to disappear quickly...and get to making sure that the admiral had a much more thorough briefing tomorrow. Animal chewing them out had a drastic shift in their thinking and now Harm was seeing just why the threat briefing was being put together. It wasn't just a briefing on who had the newest shiny new toys in the Pacific. This was a briefing on potential threats in the area; to keep abreast of rising tensions and that meant watching the news and seeing what little undercurrents in the politics of third-world countries could shift strategic interests, keeping ahead of shifts in those countries' military assets and prognosticating what potential threats could arise. This was how Animal stayed ahead of the ball-game. Half of this was paranoia and chess as Animal had stated. These shifting undercurrents were like chess pieces at play, seeking an advantage. But while these third-world countries dealt with on a regional basis, Animal, as a military commander of a section of first-world military units, was looking at the whole picture on a global threat basis even from his lowly COMBATGRP2 position. He would be poking the COMPACFLT (Commander, Pacific Fleet) a four-star with information about viable threats in the area and keeping his ear to the ground for more information and that was Harm's and Alan's job to provide.
"Commander, sit down." Animal stated in a much calmer voice. He paused for a long moment. "I'm getting in a new N-3 staff member who will be working out of the Office of Naval Intelligence, Pearl. Her job will be to keep me informed of strategic surface threats – both naval and army. Her name will probably be familiar to you." He tossed over the dossier. "She will be in tomorrow to discuss those threats in a briefing." He had a far-off look on his face, as if he was thinking about a picture that wasn't entirely clear yet. "I've seen a buildup of tanks on several of the islands that the Chinese are building. It's not clear what the Chinese are doing, but I get the feeling that they are moving to consolidate their position and that is the reason why I got Mackenzie in. I need her know-how in how ground-pounders conduct logistics and operations. In order to keep the peace, I'm sending you on a twelve week "back-in-the-saddle" to VFA-124 Gunfighters and having them bring you back up to speed on the F/A-18F."
Harm opened the dossier seeing a picture of Mac in her service class A's staring back out at him. "I...sir...uh…" He stammered. "It's not my place to judge…"
"No, shit." Animal's response was irritable. "I'm only informing you of that fact then getting you out of my hair for twelve weeks so that you two won't be at each other's throats. You pack your bags tonight...and I'll see you twelve weeks from now. Maybe by then she won't be so stressed and I won't have a cat fight on my hands while the two of you re-enact the Battle of Gettysburg in my bullpen!" Animal's dripping sarcasm was a smack alongside the back of the head as Harm winced. "And get that damned briefing finished before secure! Dismissed!"
"Aye-aye, sir!" Harm hopped to his feet, braced, and pivoted on his heel to exit the room.
Animal sighed as he wondered if AJ could give him some pointers on how to deal with Rabb. No, AJ was probably a little too busy being a country lawyer and even if he were the same rank as AJ was, it was his own job to deal with that overgrown flyboy.
It was at that point that his phone rang.
"Nakamura!" he snapped into the phone.
"I contacted Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie. She'll be headed to ONI first to report in and once she's finished, she'll head over to my office and we'll come over, sir." Meg added the sir in a tone that indicated that her CO had walked past the open door of her front office. Since Meg was the liaison officer from JAGC to Animal's command and the XO of RLSO Pearl, she didn't have to clear it with the CO first to talk to COMBATGRP2.
"OK...Any idea on ETA?"
"Not at the moment, she's currently in transit. Considering the fact that her flight left at 11:00AM EST, she'll probably get into LA around 1300 in the afternoon Pacific including the four hour transit time around six hours in the air. She'll land in Honolulu around 1500 or 1600hrs depending on how long her flight is. So she may not be able to make it in until tomorrow. She will have to in-process at ONI Pearl as it is her PCS."
"Understood." Animal grunted, "But make sure that she has a complete briefing."
"You realize that means dinner might be late tonight?" Meg stated.
"Well, that can't be helped." Animal mused as he contemplated the view outside his window. He could see the stark white edifice of the Pearl Harbor Memorial in the bay as he looked out his eighth storey window. He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. What would Admiral Kincaid say if he could see me now ensconced in the same offices that he was in when he was Commander, Pacific Fleet when the Japanese attacked. A Japanese-American Admiral keeping watch over the same types of threats in the area (though Kincaid never had to worry about a nuclear threat) that Kincaid had to worry about prior to the Pearl Harbor attacks.
"I have to pick Katie up from daycare too since you're going to be at the office perusing those reports, so I'm going to have to knock off early and get her. We may have to do Mackenzie's briefing in my home-office." Meg knew that it was going to be a late night with all this running around. Planning was proving to be completely insane. "It's either that or you don't get your briefing until day after tomorrow. Or I take Katie and Matthew back in to the office with me and you know that Matthew can't sit still."
"Whatever makes it easiest for you." Animal knew that Meg was going to have to run around like a chicken with her head cut off just to make things work. Well, at least she was having the same kind of day he had been having to deal with the past few hours. He grinned as he could practically see Meg's eyes narrow in irritation in his mind's eye. Unfortunately due to the nature of Animal's work, Matthew would just get underfoot if he went to pick his son up after school. Nine years old, he would still be full of energy and rambunctious and Animal's poor Yeoman wouldn't be able to get any work done at all. It was still a paradise of a posting and one of the hardest to get. Only those with upward-mobility in terms of rank got anywhere near Pearl.
"I'm just going to order pizza on the way back from briefing Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie."
"That works." Animal replied.
Meg's response was arch, "It'd better, because that's the only thing that's going to get Katie and Matthew to quiet down. You may have to reheat your pieces or you may go hungry…" she trailed off.
"That's fine…" Animal's reply was a laugh. Talking to Meg was one of the highlights of the day. It was damned lucky that they were able to get spousal co-location. There had been times when Animal had been half-way around the world from his wife and he got downright irascible.
"Our credit card is going to get a real workout this month." Meg informed him airily. Since this wasn't a secure line, they weren't going to talk about national security matters that even though they each had enough high security clearance they could discuss these matters.
"I had a feeling it would."
"I'll brief Colonel Mackenzie when she gets here on what you're looking for and see if we can get together the security briefing for tomorrow morning so that she doesn't get her head completely chewed off."
"OK...looking forward to it." Animal's answer was deliberately vague. Not only did it leave room for interpretation, it irritated the heck out of Meg. When he got off the phone with Meg, he dialed the number of his yeoman. "Get me a secure line to Admiral Breckenridge."
Command Master Chief Yeoman Diana Mitchum was sitting at her desk when the call came through, "Aye-aye, sir. Set up will take about five minutes."
"Understood, Diana. As long as I can get through to him."
When the admiral got on the line, Animal said, "Sir, this is a secure call, we need to discuss a few matters related to what is going on in this region."
"OK, Rear Admiral, what do you need?" Breckenridge's voice sounded tired.
"Sir, there's been major activity on these Chinese artificial islands that have been popping up. The last KH-12 satellite feed we got showed significant surface assets on the islands along with cargo ships docking and these aren't the same ones that we see every day. I'm seeing a progression. The Chinese want the South Pacific as their front yard."
"...and they're consolidating their forces to take a bite out of the region?"
"That's what I'm suspecting. If we don't have a response handy, our forces in Okinawa won't stand a chance if the Chinese make a move." Animal looked through his file. "Not only that, but it appears as though they're putting nuclear assets on those islands as well."
"Nuclear?"
"Exactly, sir. I'll be sending you the photos to confirm my findings but as of right now I'm seeing evidence of Bear bombers on the airfields located on those islands. I suspect that they're playing a game of who blinks first. If we deny them expansion by conventional means, they are going to use territory denial tactics."
"That's going to start a World War, Rear Admiral!" ADM Breckenridge sounded annoyed and alarmed, "What are the Russians doing?"
"Posturing at China...even though the Chinese buy arms from Russia and then copy their designs, lately, Russian-Sino relations have not been at their highest and the Chinese making moves to annex the entire South Pacific is causing them some consternation."
"So...other than those two, what are our concerns in the Pacific?"
"Well, sir, our main concern is the fact that each one of South Pacific nations, including the Philippines have been making overtures towards China and Russia. If the balance of power in the entire region shifts, South Korea and Japan could be surrounded by Chinese-friendly nations. That is our main concern, sir."
"You sure don't make my life comfortable, do you, Rear Admiral?" Breckenridge's voice was dripping with sarcasm as the Chief of Naval Operations considered everything Animal had stated.
"Unfortunately, sir, no, I'm not going to. My main concern is to make sure the region is stable."
"What's DCINCPAC saying about this?"
"Vice Admiral Bryce Holland, sir? He's the one that told me to give you a ring, after I briefed him Tuesday. He was going to send it up the line to Admiral Colin Fletcher"
Breckenridge snorted. "In other words, he decided to drop you into the breach and save his own skin. Well, I'm planning on taking a trip out that way...and you and I are going to have a discussion. I hear you have a few new people on your N-3 staff."
"Yes, sir, Had to pry them out of NAVAIR and ONI, Although Rabb is up for his Category II retraining and he'll be gone for twelve weeks."
"Isn't he getting a bit long in the tooth to be flying?"
"Well, sir, you try and keep Rabb out of the cockpit, he'll wheel n'deal his way back into one."
"Damn, he's a pain in the ass like Mitchell. Mitchell has been dodging the Pentagon desk for years, refuses his promotions. He's always been in zone, but he doesn't want to get promoted – says it'll take him out of the cockpit. With Rabb and Mitchell: evidently both of them missed their boards – the promotion board is tired of seeing Pete's name come up for promotion, and deep-sixed his file this year and I don't know what's going on with Rabb." The CNO grumbled audibly as Animal heard the clink of ice in a glass and pouring.
"Aye that, sir. And I don't think Rabb will be seeing the inside of one unless he excels over the course of the next year."
"You're saving Rabb's ass again, aren't you, Admiral?"
"Guilty as charged." That provoked a guffaw of laughter out of the CNO.
"OK...Rear Admiral, I'll see you next week…and get me the copies of the KH-12 photos so I can take a good look at them...and chew a few heads off. I didn't hear shit out of my staff on any of this. I feel like they're mushrooming me!"
JAG Region Legal Services Office, Pearl Harbor, Honolulu, Hawaii
"Meg, do you have a moment?" Captain Jeff Nakauchi asked.
"Of course, sir." Meg replied.
"I need to speak to you regarding the Rear Admiral's briefings...in my office."
When they stepped into Jeff's office, he closed the door and ushered Meg to take a seat. "What I need to know is how what is going on is going to affect the JAG office. Are we going to see a rash of AWOL cases?"
"That's hard to say, sir."
"You're an intelligence type who transferred back to JAG. What's going on?"
"A lot of that information is black, sir. I know the admiral and by extension of my intelligence background my clearance is high enough, but I'm not certain as to how much of it I can speak of. What I can tell you is that things are a lot tenser than they were earlier in the year." Meg said as vaguely as possible.
Jeff really wasn't happy with that answer, but he knew his clearance wasn't high enough to be able to be privy to what was said in those briefings.
JAG RLSO San Diego
"Master Chief, I hate to see you go."
"Sir, You have several Chiefs that are due for promotion, it was my time to depart here. I've enjoyed my time here, sir." Master Chief Petty Officer, Command Master Chief Yeoman Jennifer Coates smiled bracing to attention as she looked at the Captain in charge of the RLSO. "It has been a pleasure."
"As it has been mine. Master Chief. I hope Hawaii is as good a place as we were."
"I'm sure it will be, thank you."
That was over with. Jennifer thought as she stepped out of the office, One of the most painful parts of PCS. Leaving your coworkers that you've worked with for years. I will miss this place, but Hawaii, sandy beaches and hard tanned bodies await. Jen grinned to herself. But the only hard-body I'm interested in is one that I can't have.
Now she had quarters to pack up and a plane to catch to Paradise. She was going to be the Command Master Chief Yeoman to a Rear Admiral. Moving up in the world.
JAG Headquarters, Washington Navy Yard, Washington DC
"Commander Roberts? A moment if you please." the hailed officer looked up from his desk to see the form of RADM Moore, Alexis Moore, the DJAG who was second in command after the Judge Advocate General who had been in place now for two years, Vice Admiral Amanda Tucker, who had guided the Judge Advocate office with a firm hand at the control yoke. A brilliant legal mind and a nose for investigation, she had blazed a career to the Judge Advocate General's chair.
"Ma'am!"
"No need to hurry, I'll discuss the matter right here." The Rear-Admiral stepped into Bud's office, closing the door behind her and despite the incongruity of the situation, Bud paid her attention. "Commander, you need a staff tour in order to be in line for your O-6 review board. And you won't get that here. Your career is stagnating if you stay at HQ. 6th Fleet needs a JAG officer on its staff, where they place you will be up to Admiral Fletcher, but Pearl Harbor will be a good stepping stone for you if you want your eagles."
"Aye-aye, Ma'am. It's just that Harriet wants me to be close to medical help."
"Tripler has a good medical team if you need it, which I don't see." the Admiral looked at Bud firmly. "You seem to have made it through quite efficiently over the past few years without too much in the way of sick-calls."
"Other than the fever, ma'am." Bud recalled the fever that had come from ignoring abrasions to his leg and it had gotten infected with a staph infection. It was a fever of at least 103 degrees that had sent him to Bethesda for a round of heavy-duty antibiotics and an admonition by his physician to reduce his weight to relieve pressure on his prosthesis. From there, he had managed to get himself fitted through the VA for a much better athletic prosthesis that allowed him to jog thus helping him to reduce more weight. On top of that, he was now starting to lift weights and his body had hardened into an athlete's frame. Lately he'd been acing his PFT reviews making certain that he was never going to be cashiered for his injury that had earned him a Purple Heart.
"If you have complications, I'm certain Tripler has the staff to take care of you. What you need to start doing, Commander, is start to look ahead at your career."
"Yes, ma'am." RADM Moore was right. Bud's goal was eventually to reach flag rank and the admiral had cautioned him to think of his career. Staying here was comfortable, but it wasn't something that was going to further his career with points to tick off along his career path so that he could get promoted. And Harriet just needed to understand that if he stayed in the Navy Yard, he might as well just resign himself to the fact that he had topped out at O-5. And Bud wasn't satisfied with just silver oak leafs, he wanted eagles and more.
"Commander, your PCS to Pearl is cut and waiting on your travel orders. I'm sure your fitrep is going to be astounding this year. You are in zone in two years, are you not?"
"Yes, ma'am." He would be in zone for promotion to O-6 in two years. And that would protect him. Congressional appointment to Rear Admiral (lower half) would be from six to seven years after that. O-6 would be the last automatic promotion he would get pending good reviews from his promotion board. Flag rank depended on Congressional appointment to either one star or two-star. Anything beyond that was by vacancy and seniority. Of course, the JCS and the Congressional committee liked to place those who fitted the position into those vacancies.
"When you secure, you will out-process and make ready to in-process at your PCS in Pearl in one week's time. VADM Tucker has cut the orders and told me to let you know."
"Aye-aye, ma'am!"
That night
"But Bud…"
"No buts, Harriet, I've been in HQ now for over 12 years. RADM Moore is right, and the JAG, Vice-Admiral Tucker is behind those orders to Pearl. I'm stagnating in the office and if I refuse assignment to Pearl, I might as well hang my uniform up. And I want my eagles and more if it's possible." Bud put his foot down. He'd listened to Harriet. He saw what refusing a post did to Harm's promising career and he sure as hell wasn't going to go down the same road. Bud was now Harm's equal in rank. And Pearl was a dream destination. Yet Harriet was again trying to talk him out of it.
"What about your health? What about the kids."
"The kids will love it in Hawaii – to them, it'll be like a vacation every-day. And ever since I've started jogging every morning, I've aced my PFT reviews. The abrasions have never come back because of the VA paid-for athletic prosthesis. I'm in good physical health, Harriet. I'll be fine."
"Alright, Bud...but don't make me say I told you so."
Bud rolled his eyes, "Harriet, you know I need this for my career and I need you behind me one hundred percent. You know what they want for me to be promoted to O-6. They want to see a staff-tour on record. I've come this far in my Navy career, I'm not going to top out at O-5." He looked at Harriet with a look that said his mind was made up.
Harriet Beaumont Sims-Roberts wasn't happy with the decision but over the next two days, the house was packed up and the kids were ready to go. Even the youngest, now six years old, was all eager to go to Ha-waii. But the tension between the two parents in the household was frigid. Harriet did not want to leave their house, nor was she happy about the fact that Bud had unilaterally made the decision that he was accepting the post in Pearl.
And Bud, himself, had to realize that since the past seven years, Harriet was becoming a bit of a nag.
