The Cost of Courage 3

The Cost of Courage
(Part 3 of 4)

Author: Pixie

Rating: PG

Category: JAG Story

Spoilers: This story is part of the summer 2004 Virtual Season. As such, anything up to and including the season 9 finale (Hail and Farewell) and the first three VS episodes is fair game.

Disclaimers: Neither JAG nor its characters belong to me. I'm not making any money from this little escapade, so please don't sue me.

***** Part 3 *****

1834 Zulu (1334 Local)
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Harm and Mac sat in the familiar leather chairs in the admiral's office. Mac thought how strange it felt to be in here. Admiral Chegwidden's office had been taken over by a man who was still, in her heart if not her mind, an imposter. It was going to take some time to get used to the change. The admiral folded his arms and looked at them.

"So…when were you planning on telling me?"

"Telling you what, Sir?" asked Mac.

"About Colonel Martin."

"I'm sorry, Sir?"

The admiral stood and came around his desk, leaning against it and folding his arms while he stared down at the two officers.

"Don't mess with me, Colonel. You're way out of your league."

Mac exchanged a puzzled glance with Harm, then looked back at her new CO.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Sir."

Admiral Blankenship reached behind him and picked up a single sheet of paper from his desk blotter.

"I'm talking about this, Colonel."

He handed it to her, gave her a moment to realize what it was, and then passed it on to Harm. Harm looked at the document, then back up at the admiral.

"We weren't trying to hide anything from you, Sir," said Harm. "We didn't think the information was relevant yet."

"Yet?" Blankenship spared a glare for the wayward Commander. "And at what point do you believe it would have become relevant?"

"After we'd discussed it with Colonel Martin, Sir."

The admiral considered that for a moment, his face registering mild disbelief.

"Let me see if I've got this right. We're four days away from Independence Day – the perfect time to deal with this. Four days for me to make the arrangements. Four days for me to track down Martin's former CO and get him up here. Four days for me to arrange press coverage. And you didn't think this piece of information was relevant yet?"

He allowed his incredulity to show on his face for just a moment before he went on.

"Commander, it's becoming more and more obvious that the way I operate is significantly different from what you're used to."

Mac resisted looking at Harm, certain that her expression would give her thoughts away. Instead, she spoke up.

"It was never our intent to inconvenience you or this office, Sir."

The admiral looked over at her.

"It obviously wasn't your intent to make my life any easier either, Colonel."

There was no answer to that, and after a few tense moments, the admiral moved back to his seat.

"I'm arranging the ceremony, people. I expect you to make sure Colonel Martin is on board."

"Sir…" Mac trailed off.

"What is it, Colonel?"

"Sir, I'm not sure Colonel Martin will agree to this."

Admiral Blankenship leaned forward in his chair.

"I don't think you understand," he said. "This ceremony will go a long way toward improving public support for the military. Right now, especially in light of the mess at Abu Ghraib, we need every positive press release we can cobble together. I don't intend for the colonel's…reluctance, to get in the way of that. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Mac clamped down firmly on her frustration. This wasn't the time or the place to let her feelings show.

"Dismissed."

**********

Harm followed Mac into her office, careful to close the door behind him. He watched her glance about the room, searching for a way to vent her frustration. She finally grabbed a pencil at random and flung it across the room with a muffled curse.

"That son of a…"

"Mac."

"Stupid, self-satisfied, egotistical….."

"Mac…" He said her name more firmly, hoping to get her attention. She just glared at him.

"Narcissist!"

He sighed. Obviously, she needed to vent. He settled down in the chair across from her desk, and waited while she ran through every derogatory nickname in the dictionary, raising his eyebrows when she invented a few especially colorful monikers that he'd never heard before. She finally ran out of steam and collapsed into her chair, the vehemence of her motion sending it rolling and forcing her to grab for the edge of the desk in an undignified attempt to keep from getting dumped on the floor.

She glared at him, daring him to say a word. Wisely, he stayed silent.

"Now what?" she asked him, once she'd finally let off enough steam to allow her to think rationally.

"Now we go talk to Colonel Martin."

"Mr. Martin, you mean. Remember? He retired."

Harm shrugged. "After reading his service record…he'll always be Colonel Martin in my book – uniform or no uniform."

Mac looked at him. "He isn't going to like this."

"Mac, from what little I know of Calvin Martin, not only is he not going to like it, he's liable to run again."

She sighed. "How do we keep that from happening?"

"I don't know. We'll just have to wing it, I guess. Do you know if his wife's here yet?"

"I haven't heard. I was going to go by the hospital this afternoon, anyway. I figured I'd find out then."

"Well, this is as good a time as any." He stood up. "Shall we go beard the lion in its den?"

She grinned at that.

"I'd rather beard this lion than the one down the hall any time. At least I respect this one."

"You'd better be careful, Mac. If that attitude ever makes it out of this office, your career's sunk."

She sighed. "I know. And I will be careful. I'm not going to change my mind about him, though."

Harm laughed. "I wouldn't expect any less, Marine."

He opened the door, then followed her out, heading for the hospital and a challenge that rivaled any military operation in which he'd ever participated.

****************************** News Flash *****************************

We interrupt your program to bring you this special bulletin.

The hostage situation at Paramount Studios continues, but negotiations between The Shippers and Bellisarius are ongoing.

An agreement has been reached on one issue.

The character of Harm will appear shirtless every other episode, a compromise from the original demand of every week.

However, a settlement on the status and progress of the Harm/Mac relationship has not been reached, though The Shippers are confident their demands will be met.

Further details as events unfold.

**********************************************************************

"Good afternoon!"

Calvin pulled his eyes away from the window, spared a quick glance at the annoyingly cheerful nurse, and then turned back to the view.

"You have a delivery."

He looked back at her, his eyes taking in the tasteful potted plant with little interest.

"I think you've made a mistake."

"Nope." She smiled at him as she set the plant down on the bedside table. She pulled an envelope out of its clip and handed it to him.

"Whoever sent it has a quirky sense of humor. Look here."

She waited until she had his attention, then carefully lifted a few of the glossy leaves. Tucked underneath was a tiny yellow duck. She grinned at him, obviously thinking he would be as amused as she was. He wasn't. He merely grunted at her and tugged open the envelope. A quick glance at the card told him it was from Rabb and Mackenzie. Vaguely annoyed, he tucked it back into its envelope and dropped the envelope on his untouched lunch tray.

"Would you like me to water it for you?"

"No. Just…" He almost told her to get rid of it, but he knew the two officers would be disappointed if he did that. He wasn't so stupid as to think he hadn't needed their help. He supposed the least he could do would be to accept the plant. "Just leave it."

The nurse noticed his untouched meal tray.

"You need to eat something, Mr. Martin. The doctor isn't likely to release you anytime soon if you don't."

He scowled at the tray of unappetizing food. "That stuff's worse than the rations we used to get on the front lines."

She shrugged at him. "That may be so, Sir, but the longer you avoid eating it, the longer you're going to be stuck here with me."

He had to admire her spirit. She knew exactly which buttons to push to get him motivated. Halfheartedly, he picked up his fork and poked at the congealing mess.

"There. That's better." She tugged a non-existent wrinkle out of his covers, and gave him a cheerful smile.

He felt like a two year old and, like a two year old would have, he scowled at her.

She replied with a laugh, then filled his water jug, checked his vital signs, and left the room.

He breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the tray away.

"You know…you really should try to eat something."

He froze at the familiar voice, all his senses on high alert; his heartbeat accelerating to a speed that would have alarmed the nurse. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her. She was still beautiful. Thirteen years had passed, but though the time had added lines to her face and gray touches to her glossy black hair, she still had the ability to take his breath away. He forced his feelings down, locked them up, and threw away the key. He didn't deserve her. The sooner they both accepted that, the better off they'd both be.

"You came."

She walked over to him then, looking down at him with an expression in her dark eyes that he couldn't read.

"Of course I came. You're my husband."

He shrugged. “I'd have thought you'd have long since divorced me and married somebody else."

"There's never been anybody but you, Cal. You know that."

He sighed heavily and turned his head away. "You deserve better than me, Rashimi."

"Maybe." Her voice was noncommittal.

There was a knock on the door, and a Navy officer in summer whites poked his head in.

"I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"

Calvin stifled his sigh of relief. "Come in, Commander."

Harm stepped inside, directing a curious look at Rashimi.

"Commander Rabb, this is my wife, Rashimi."

The two shook hands. "I owe you a debt of gratitude, Commander," she said.

"For?"

"For giving me back my husband."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I can't take credit for that. It was my partner who convinced him to let us contact you."

"Well, then I hope I get to meet him so that I can thank him personally."

"It's a her, Ma'am. Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. She should be along in a few minutes."

Calvin interrupted, "Now that the introductions are out of the way, what can I do for you, Commander?"

"My partner and I need to talk to you about something, Colonel."

There was a light tap on the door, and Mac entered, her eyes sweeping over the assembled group before settling on Rashimi.

"You must be Mrs. Martin," she said, extending her hand.

"That'd be me. I understand you're the one I have to thank for talking my husband into seeing me."

Mac shrugged lightly. "I didn't really talk him into it."

Calvin snorted at that. "Browbeat me, is more like it."

Rashimi stared at her husband, and the uncomfortable moment stretched until Harm cleared his throat and changed the subject.

"There's something we need to ask you about."

Calvin sighed. "What is it now?"

"I'm afraid the cat's out of the bag, Colonel," said Harm, a note of apology in his voice.

At first, Calvin was puzzled, then it hit him. The medal. They'd found out about the medal. His stomach clenched at the thought.

"No."

"Colonel."

"I told you! I'm not a colonel anymore! And I don't want their damn medal!"

He heard Rashimi gasp, saw her face pale. He'd never told her about the medal. He cursed inwardly. He should never have stayed here, should never have allowed himself to relax his guard – not even for a moment. He glared at the two officers, but they merely stared calmly back at him. Obviously, raised voices and curses didn't intimidate them. He sighed, wishing again that nobody had noticed him lying in that alley – least of all a pair of Dudley Do-Right JAG officers.

"Cal? What is he talking about?"

It was Rashimi, her voice so soft he only barely caught the words. He sighed heavily, then decided that, after thirteen years, she might as well know.

"The Bronze Star." His voice, low and full of pain, thickened the air in the room.

Rashimi turned to Mac, recognizing the Marine insignia on her uniform.

"Colonel? What…exactly, is the Bronze Star?"

Mac looked over at Colonel Martin, sensing undercurrents in the air that she didn't pretend to understand. He nodded slightly, and she looked at Rashimi.

"The Bronze Star is awarded to any active military person who distinguishes himself by an act of heroism while fighting an enemy of the United States. "

Rashimi's hand flew to her mouth, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Oh my God," she said, turning to her husband. "That's it, isn't it. That's why you left!"

He didn't answer her, but he didn't look away, either. Time stood still as husband and wife held a silent, and obviously painful, conversation. When Rashimi finally spoke again, her low voice was tense.

"You can't run away from it for the rest of your life, Cal. It isn't fair – not to you, not to me – and not to them."

Harm and Mac exchanged a glance. Harm was the first to speak.

"Excuse me…Is there some way we can help?"

Rashimi turned to him. "I don't know, Commander. I doubt anybody can make this right but Cal." She looked back at her husband. "And after all these years…" She dropped her head, her voice sad. "After all these years, I don't know if making it right is even an option anymore."

Calvin finally spoke up. "Rashi…"

"No, Cal." She started to back away from the bed. "I tried to talk to you about this when it first happened. You shut me out. You never even told me about the medal. I could've helped, but instead of letting me in, you ran away."

She brushed angrily at her eyes before going on. "You ran away from me, from our children…."

"Rashi, the kids were already grown and out of the house when it happened."

"It doesn't matter, Cal. They still needed you. Children never stop needing their parents." She gave him a long look, ignoring the hand he'd raised toward her. "I have to go. I can't do this right now." She turned and fled the room.

Mac followed Rashimi, leaving Harm alone with Calvin.

**************

Mac finally caught up to her in the hospital's Memorial Garden. The older but still beautiful woman sat, shoulders hunched, staring at nothing.

"Mrs. Martin?"

The woman turned tear filled eyes to Mac. She brushed ineffectually at her damp cheeks, then offered Mac an embarrassed smile.

"Under the circumstances, I think it makes more sense for you to call me Rashimi, don't you?"

"Only if you call me Mac," said Mac, sitting down beside her.

She was rewarded with another teary smile, then both women lapsed into silence.

Several minutes passed while Mac waited patiently for the storm of emotion to begin to wind down. Finally, Rashimi spoke, her voice rough from crying.

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked, then went on before Mac could answer. "I mean…have you ever been so deeply in love that five minutes without him seemed like a lifetime?"

Mac considered that for a moment, then decided to be honest. "Just once."

"Then maybe you can imagine the agonizing pain you'd feel if you woke up one day and he was just gone. No note. No phone call. Nothing. Just…gone."

Mac remembered the months of silence when Harm had disappeared into the black hole that was the CIA.

"I think I have a little bit of an idea…"

"The pain, and the worry…they're agonizing. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep…I barely functioned for months. After all these years, I'm finally starting to put my life back together and he turns up out of nowhere. I just…I don't know what to think," she turned tear filled eyes to Mac. "I don't know what to feel."

"What can I do to help?" asked Mac.

"You mean beyond knocking some sense into that idiot husband of mine?" asked Rashimi, with a watery smile.

Mac smiled. "Somehow, I suspect Commander Rabb's taking care of that already."

"That might depend on whether or not the commander can get the rest of the story out of Cal without a can opener."

"I gather your husband's the quiet type?"

Rashimi laughed softly. "You have a talent for understatement, you know that?"

The question didn't require an answer, and Mac didn't offer one.

"What happened to him?" she asked, knowing she was being nosy, but hoping Rashimi would forgive her.

"Didn't you read his service record?"

"Enough to know he saved a little girl's life."

"There was…more to it then that."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Rashimi sighed. "Cal will probably be angry with me for telling you this, but if I don't talk to someone I think I might just explode. Besides," She looked at Mac appraisingly. "I don't know why, but for some reason I feel I can trust you."

"You can."

"Cal and I met in high school. There was a group of us who did everything together." She smiled a little wistfully. "High school seems like such a long time ago now."

She shifted, making herself more comfortable on the wooden bench.

"Cal was, still is, a gorgeous man. Tall, lean-limbed, blond, and with those piercing blue eyes that followed you everywhere. He was a basketball player, of course, and all the girls adored him."

She laughed a little ruefully. "I was painfully shy at that age. If he so much as looked at me, I turned a dozen shades of red. He told me once that it was one of the things that made him fall in love with me.

"Cal was an only child, but his best friend Logan came from a big, noisy family. Logan's parents welcomed all comers to their home. They were two of the kindest people I've ever known. I think Cal and I spent more of our teen years at their house than we did at our own."

Rashimi bent down to pick up a fallen leaf, twirling it idly in her fingers as she continued to talk.

"We graduated in '70, and Calvin and Logan went down to the Marine recruiting office the next day. Our group of friends was surprised about that. Vietnam wasn't exactly supported by the American public, you'll recall. We tried to talk the guys out of it, but they wouldn't hear of it. They said that they were American citizens and that, like it or not, they had a duty to support their president."

Mac noticed that Rashimi was systematically shredding the leaf as she talked, but she didn't say anything, not wanting to disturb the flow of words.

"Cal and I were so deeply in love by that time, and I was so frightened for his safety, that we decided to get married before he shipped out." She grinned. "Our families were furious. I still remember that. I didn't care, though. I knew that Cal was the only man I would ever love."

Her voice grew wistful. "He's still the only man I'll ever love."

She took a deep breath. "I was pregnant by the time Cal shipped out. Our son, Calvin Junior, was born while he was in 'Nam." She smiled at Mac. "I remember how sad I was that Cal couldn't be there for the birth, but C.J. was such a beautiful baby. I used to send pictures every week.

"Cal came home for six months at the end of '71. We had Christmas together, and then he shipped out for a second tour of duty. The war changed him – as it does anybody, I suppose. When he was home, he was quieter than ever, and he'd spend hours just playing with C.J. or watching him sleep. I remember being grateful that Logan was out there with him. I knew the two men could lean on each other, help each other make it through.

"After Vietnam, Logan came home. He'd had enough of the military, he said. He wanted out. Somehow, Calvin convinced him to stay in the Reserves, but I'm still not sure how that happened. Meanwhile, Calvin managed to finish his degree and get selected for Officer Candidate School."

She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder what our life would've been like if Calvin hadn't been offered OCS."

"We had two kids by then. Devika was born during Cal's second tour of duty in Vietnam. After Calvin finished officer training, we moved all over the world. I stayed stateside with the kids some of the time, but we were able to follow him to some interesting places - Europe, Asia, The Philippines…The constant moves were hard on us, but somehow the difficulties only brought us closer together."

She shifted slightly before continuing. "I guess we were lucky that way. A lot of the couples we've known over the years couldn't handle the stress. I've seen more friends through divorce than I care to think about."

Mac nodded. The military life had that effect on a lot service families. It wasn't a life to choose if you weren't comfortable with change.

"Through it all, our family and Logan's stayed close. I have a stack of post cards at home that Calvin saved from those years. Logan used to collect them from all over. He'd even have friends send him blank ones just so he could send something new."

She laughed a little at the memory.

"Logan lived the bachelor life for a long time. I remember teasing him about being set in his ways when he finally married Patrice in 1980. He'd stayed in the Reserves and was called to active duty a few times, but he was always glad to come home again. He didn't have the military in his blood the way Cal did.

"Logan's unit was activated again for Desert Storm in 1990. By that time, he and Patrice had three kids and a thriving auto repair business. Calvin and I are godparents to their children - Doug, Fiona, and Rory. They're good kids, all of them."

Rashimi looked ruefully at Mac. "I'm sorry. That got a bit long-winded, but I needed you to understand. You see, Cal's service record only tells about the life he saved. It doesn't talk about the life that was lost – the life he blames himself for."

Mac caught her breath. "Logan?"

Rashimi nodded. "I know my husband. When he heard that child cry, the rest of the world ceased to matter. I doubt he was really even aware that Logan followed him inside."

Sadness settled on her face again, "Then, when he realized what had happened…it was like his world came to an end. He couldn't see beyond his conviction that he'd deprived those kids of their father, deprived Patrice of a wonderful husband, and deprived us of a dear friend."

She shook her head. "When he came home from Desert Storm, he was a broken man. His physical injuries healed readily enough, but his soul never recovered. It was about six months after that that he disappeared."

By the time she finished speaking, Rashimi was emotionally drained. But her tears had stopped, and she seemed calmer.

Mac said, "I can't imagine any of this has been easy on you or your families."

"It hasn't. But I can get past that. I can understand his pain and his grief. I understand that he blames himself for Logan's death even if nobody else blames him. Logan made choices that day, just like Calvin did. He could have played it safe and waited outside, but that wasn't the kind of man he was. The only person who ever blamed Calvin for any of it is Calvin himself."

"Can you forgive him for running?" Mac asked the difficult question in a low voice, knowing that Rashimi had to figure out an answer before she went back into that hospital room.

Rashimi was quiet for a long time. Finally, her expression cleared, and she nodded.

"Yes," she said. "I can forgive him for running. The fact is, I love him so much, even after this, that I could probably forgive him for just about anything.

She sighed, then looked at Mac. "But he needs to forgive himself, too."

Mac nodded. "I think maybe you're the one who has the best shot at helping him do that," she said. "Are you ready to go back inside?"

Rashimi took a deep breath, then stood up. "Yes. It's time."

*************

Mac followed Rashimi into the hospital room, her eyes immediately seeking Harm's for a few seconds of silent communication. He looked as drained as she felt, and she hoped that he'd been able to help the colonel find his way again. By mutual silent agreement, they stepped outside the room to give the husband and wife a few minutes alone.

Mac leaned tiredly against the closest available wall.

"Wow," she said.

"Yeah. It's quite a mess."

"Did he tell you what happened?"

"Parts of it. Enough to know that he blames himself for his best friend's death."

"Do you think he's going to be able to find peace with this?"

Harm shrugged. "I don't know, Mac. I think we've done all we can do." He glanced at the closed door. "It's up to them, now."

Mac rolled her shoulders, trying in vain to work out a knot. Wooden park benches weren't exactly ergonomically correct.

"Here. Let me help."

Harm moved behind her, and she dropped her head, relaxing into the feel of his hands as they soothed the tight muscles across her shoulders.

"Better?" he said a few minutes later.

"Much." She smiled at him. "Thanks."

"Anytime." He gestured at the vending machine at the end of the hall. "Coffee?"

She laughed. "You must be desperate if you're willing to drink vending machine coffee."

"I am."

"I could use a shot of caffeine myself." They walked down to the vending machine together, taking their time, aware that Calvin and Rashimi would need time to work things out.

Harm was throwing their empty cups in a nearby trashcan when the door to the hospital room opened again and Rashimi waved them inside. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks tear stained, but there was a peacefulness to her expression that had been missing earlier.

"Please. Come back inside. Cal wants to talk to you."

They followed her over to the bed, and Mac noticed that she took her husband's hand and squeezed it in her own. The two of them shared a gentle smile, then Calvin looked at Mac and Harm.

"It seems I owe the two of you an apology." He looked up at his wife, who nodded at him encouragingly. "I guess you two deserve the credit for…what did you call it?" He glanced at Rashimi again, then remembered. "Oh yeah…saving me from myself."

"You're welcome," said Harm. "I'm glad we were able to help."

"Well, it isn't going to be easy. There's…still an awful lot to deal with, and I have a lot of apologizing to do," Calvin said. "But my wife assures me that she'll stick with me through whatever comes."

Rashimi smiled wryly. "I think that probably has something to do with the 'as long as we both shall live' part of the vows we took all those years ago."

"Whatever the reason, I'm glad you're not giving up on me."

For a moment, the two had eyes only for each other, and Harm and Mac tried their best to become invisible. Then Harm cleared his throat softly, and Calvin dragged his gaze away from his wife with an abashed grin.

"You can tell the admiral that I'll be there on the Fourth. Just let me know where and when to show up." He shifted a bit on the pillows, then remembered something. "Oh, and I'll need a uniform. My old one was the first thing to go when I retired after Desert Storm."

"Not to worry, Colonel. We'll take care of it."

Harm and Mac said their goodbyes, and then eased out of the room leaving husband and wife to begin to rebuild thirteen lost years.

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