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Flashpoint
Author: Pixie Rating: PG Classification: Jag Story. Romance/Angst Spoilers: Anything's possible… Disclaimers: JAG and its characters are the sole property of DPB Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.
****** Part 4 ******
1800 Zulu (0600 Local)
A faint glimmer of light through his window roused Harm from a light sleep. He’d worked hard the day before, but still hadn’t slept well. Just before falling asleep, he’d found time to call the hospital. He hadn’t been able to talk to Mac, but they’d told him her fever was down and that they planned to remove the shunt this morning. Hearing that she was showing signs of improvement had made it easier for Harm to fall asleep, but his rest had been plagued by dreams and flashbacks. Now, his muscles were cramped from a restless night on a bed that was far too short and much too hard to be comfortable. He pulled on his BDU's, grabbed a hot mug of coffee from the officer’s mess, and reported to base command. An impressive group was assembling for Operation George Washington. The actual work crew consisted of sixteen engineers from Second Battalion whose job it was to make sure the tree came down as quickly as possible. Accompanying them was a force of sixty, Harm included, armed with ax handles. It seemed odd to be heading into a potential battle with only an ax handle, but such is the weirdness of agreements written by politicians instead of generals. The security group would form a ring around the tree, insuring that the engineers were not prevented from finishing their work. This forward operational detail was heavily supported behind the scenes by infantry and artillery units, while two flights of F-16’s patrolled the length of the Military Demarcation Line, and half a dozen Apache helicopters stood ready to take to the air. If all went according to plan, the tree would be down within the hour and everybody would pull back to the JSA and Camp Liberty Bell. Then the waiting game would begin. Nobody ventured a guess as to how the North Koreans were going to respond to today’s actions. The PKA was just too unpredictable. Knowing this, many soldiers, Harm included, had taken time to write final letters to friends and loved ones, preparing for the worst. Within the hour, they could be at war, and although nobody questioned the necessity of what they were about to do, all were tense and edgy. At oh six forty five, General Singleton approached the assembled group. Silence descended as everybody stopped what they were doing and came to attention. The general addressed Lieutenant Mathers, who was in charge of the operation, but he spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I’ve just handed a note to the Joint Duty Officer. He will pass it on to my North Korean counterpart. In it, we have informed the North Koreans that at oh seven hundred hours, we will be entering the Joint Security Area to commence pruning the tree in the vicinity of Observation Post three. Should there be no interference, we will depart the JSA compound immediately upon the completion of our mission." He looked around, making absolutely certain he had the attention of every individual in the group. "You are authorized to take any action Lieutenant Mathers deems necessary in making sure that tree comes down. Am I understood?" "Yes, Sir!" Seventy-six voices answered at once, their tones firm and confident. "Move out!" The men piled into the trucks, and they rumbled off. The short trip passed in silence, each man’s thoughts focused on the task ahead and its possible repercussions. Harm had been mildly disappointed to note that there were no women in the group today. There would have been poetic justice in their presence. In the end, though, he just wanted this to be over so he could get back to Mac. He had written a letter to her, and to his mother and brother, and they were safely packed away in his sea bag. He hoped the letters would never be delivered, but he felt better for having written them. If something did go wrong today, at least he would have a chance to say goodbye. Within moments, the trucks rumbled to a stop, and soldiers piled out. Few words were spoken as they formed a tight double ring around the tree, under which the engineers were already setting up their ladders. The sun, still low in the early morning sky, cast a pale golden glow on what should have been a peaceful scene. The Poplar tree was both taller and fuller than any of its neighbors, its thick branches filled with birds calling out to each other as they began the day in piping voices that carried clearly on the light breeze. Not a single man spoke, and in the quiet, the Sachon River could be heard as it tumbled under the Bridge of No Return. Harm looked across to where a small group of heavily armed North Korean soldiers was gathering on the other side of the river. They looked puzzled at first, and then their faces darkened with anger as they realized what was happening. Harm recognized Lieutenant Kim in the group. He was heavily armed, like his peers, and he scowled darkly at the American soldiers who insisted upon challenging his authority. The loud buzz of chainsaws coming to life blared a sudden challenge, and dozens of small birds flew up in a noisily startled mass. The jarring mechanical sound brought an abrupt end to the tense standoff as Kim stepped threateningly onto the Bridge, followed by a handful of his men. On the other side, twenty grim and angry American soldiers stepped forward, their makeshift weapons raised in silent warning. Evidently recognizing the folly of provoking a fight, Kim stepped back, lowering his weapon only slightly, and turned back to watch the work crew. A loud crack split the air as one huge branch was severed from its trunk and fell to the ground. The first crash was soon followed by two more, and soon a nine foot tall stump was all that remained of the stately old tree. Homeless birds circled overhead for a few moments before perching in other trees along the river, their voices providing background music as the work crew packed up their gear and the trucks rumbled back to life. Harm settled himself in the back of a truck and watched the helpless frustration of the North Koreans as they pulled away, a small smile of satisfaction on his face. Back at the base, jubilant soldiers piled out of the trucks, slapping each other on the back and celebrating their success. Harm’s satisfaction was more subdued. The tree was down, and the North Koreans had been sent a message, but in a hospital room thirty miles away, Mac still lay in a coma. This thought hovered in the back of his mind throughout the debriefing and after action reports. When he’d finished the tedious work, Harm went back to his room at the VOQ. He had some telephone calls to make, and he wanted to be alone when he did it. The base was still locked down, and would likely stay that way for at least forty eight hours, so he couldn’t visit Mac, but he could at least call her and tell her what had happened. "Critical Care Unit." "Hello. This is Commander Rabb. I’m calling to check on Colonel Mackenzie." "One moment, please." Harm expected to hear the same clatter and rustle that he usually did as Mac’s file was pulled out, so he was surprised when the hospital’s on-hold music began playing in his ear. He barely had time to become concerned when Dr. Lee’s voice came over the line. "Commander Rabb?" "Yes. Colonel MacKenzie?" "Actually, she’s doing much better today. Her fever has broken and we were able to remove the shunt this morning without complications. We still have her on the respirator, but if her condition continues to improve we’d like to try turning it off later this afternoon. Can you be here for that?" Harm sighed his frustration. There was nothing he wanted more, but he knew it was impossible. "I’m sorry, doctor, we’re locked down here. It’ll probably be another couple of days before I can get off base." "I understand." The doctor’s voice gentled. He knew his next words would probably frighten the commander, but Harm was the only one qualified to make the decision that had to be made now. "Commander, I don’t expect any problems this afternoon, but I need to ask you this. What would you like us to do if the colonel fails to begin breathing on her own?" Harm’s heart slammed in his chest. First the doctor had told him that Mac was improving. Now he wanted to know what to do if she didn’t start breathing on her own? "I….thought you said she was doing better," he finally said. "She is. But there’s really no way to be certain how much brain damage she’s suffered as a result of her injury. Best case scenario, she’ll fully recover, but there’s just no way to know for sure until she wakes up." Harm was faced with an agonizing decision. He knew Mac wouldn’t want to spend the rest of her life hooked up to machines, but he didn’t know if he had the strength to say the words she would want him to say right now. He stalled for time. "When will you do it?" "Well, if her vital signs look good and her fever stays down, I’m aiming for sometime around seventeen hundred hours this afternoon." Harm looked at his watch. It was early yet, not quite noon. He took a deep breath, and gave an order he hoped would never be carried out. "If she doesn’t respond…let her go." The words, spoken slowly and softly, clearly communicated the agonizing pain Harm felt at the mere thought of losing Mac. Having said them, he sat down heavily on the bed, the weight of his decision dragging his shoulders down as he dropped his head into his free hand. "I’ll note your orders in her chart," said Dr. Lee. "Commander?" "Yes?" "The colonel’s a strong, healthy, woman. It is my professional opinion that she’s going to come out of this." "Thank you, Doctor," said Harm, knowing the words to be completely inadequate to what he felt right now. "I appreciate all you’re doing for her." "You’re welcome. Would you like to speak to her for a few minutes?" "Yes, I would."
As had become their custom, Harm disconnected
the call, immediately hitting the speed dial for Dr. Lee’s cell phone. "Yes." "Just a moment." There was the usual faint rustle as the doctor put the telephone near Mac’s ear, and then Harm began to speak, longing desperately to be by her side, but forced to settle for talking to her. "Mac? It’s me again. How are you doing today?" He paused, wishing for all the world that she could answer him - tell him she was fine and that she was ready to start breathing on her own again. "It’s gone, you know, Mac. The tree, I mean. We cut it down this morning. Our friend Lieutenant Kim looked pretty mad about it. He and some of his men took a couple of steps across the bridge toward us, but they were outnumbered almost ten to one. Luckily for him, he changed his mind and settled for glaring at us across the river while we finished the job your group started." He shook his head. "I wish you could have been there, Mac. There was something so satisfying in hearing that last branch crash to the ground. I think our message got across loud and clear. You don’t mess with Americans and get away with it." Harm stood and began slowly pacing the room as he told Mac all about the morning’s activities. He knew that when she woke up he’d probably have to go through it all again, but he needed to let her know now that nobody had let the North Koreans get away with what they had done to Mac and the others a few short days ago. He even told her about the birds, describing their frantic whirling flight and the startled cries that had somehow sounded so plaintive in the early morning air. He finished the story and sat down on the edge of his bed again, thinking carefully about what he would say next. He didn’t know if he’d get another chance to talk with her before they turned off the respirator, didn’t know if he’d ever have another chance to tell her how he felt. He took a deep breath and plunged in. "Sarah, the doctor tells me that you’re doing better, and I’m thrilled to hear that. But he also tells me that he’s going to turn off your respirator this afternoon and see how you do. He says…never mind what he says. You don’t need to know that. But you do need to know that I love you. You need to understand that no matter how randomly dense I may be at times, you’ve become the most important person in my life, and I don’t think I can go on without you. I know, stupid of me, huh? To wait until you’re in a coma to finally work up the courage to tell you how I feel?" He shrugged his shoulders, even though he knew there was nobody around to see him. "You accused me once before of only showing interest in you when you have one foot out the door, and I guess this is one more example of that. I promise you this, though, Sarah. Come back to me this time, and you’ll never doubt my feelings again." He paused, hearing her voice in his mind. "I know, I should never make a promise I can’t keep." He smiled slightly as he remembered when she had said those words to him before. "I can keep this one, Mac, and believe me, I will. Just…work for this, Mac. Fight. I’m here, rooting for you, begging you to come back to me, but I can’t do this for you. God knows, I would if I could. But I can’t. All I can do is tell you how much I love you, and pray. I’m doing my part, Mac. The rest is up to you." "Commander?" Doctor Lee’s voice. "Yes." "I’m sorry, but I need to disconnect the line now. I have a meeting upstairs in two minutes. Would you like us to call this afternoon?" "Yes. Please. And doctor?" "Yes?" "Thanks again for all you’re doing." "You’re welcome." There was a click, and the line went dead. Harm sat for a minute, holding the silent phone in his hand and sending yet another fervent prayer heavenward. Please, God. Please let her come back to me. He sighed and glanced at his watch again, mentally calculating the time difference back home. It was late in the states, after twenty three hundred hours, but he hadn’t talked to Mattie in days, and he needed to see how she was doing. He punched in the number and leaned back against the pillows. "Jen and Mattie’s place." Harm grinned at that. "Mattie, it’s Harm." "Harm! I’ve been worried about you. You haven’t called in days!" "I know. I’m sorry. Forgive me?" "I’ll think about it," she teased, and then sobered. "How’s Mac?" "How much has Jen told you?" "Not much. Just that she was pretty banged up and nobody knew if she was going to make it. I think that’s all they told her at work. Everybody’s really worried." "I am too, Mattie. She’s had a tough time of it. She’s doing better now, but they’re taking her off the respirator this afternoon, and her doctor won’t predict whether or not Mac will be able to breathe on her own." "Wow. Harm, I’m really sorry. She’s a great lady." "Yes. She is." He decided to change the subject before they got maudlin. "How’s school going?" "Fine." Harm narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He hadn’t been a dad for long, but it hadn’t taken him long to learn how to tell when Mattie was hiding something. "Fine?" "Yup." "Uh huh…. Why don’t I believe you?" "Gee… I don’t know." Her voice was too innocent. Too bright. "What’s going on, Mattie?" "Umm…. It’s nothing, really. I can handle it." "Tell me. It’ll give me something to think about besides Mac." Harm had discovered that if Mattie was convinced she was helping him, she’d usually be cooperative. She hated it when she thought he was trying to coddle her. Mattie was kind of like Mac that way. Independent and headstrong. He grinned involuntarily. He sure knew how to pick ‘em. Mattie considered his request, and then gave in. "There’s this jerk in my class…" "Jerk?" "Yeah. You know the type. Tall. Kind of good looking. Thinks he owns the world." Harm cringed. He’d been described that way himself occasionally. Hearing the description tied to the word ‘jerk’ was a little disconcerting. "And?" "Well, last week he stole my math homework and wouldn’t give it back to me until I called him ‘your highness.’ That was pretty annoying." Harm fought a grin. "I imagine it was." "Then today in the lunch room, he walked behind me and ‘accidentally’ tripped. Dumped his entire tray down my back. I wanted to kill him!" "Wow. I’ll bet that made you mad." "Mad?!? I was furious! I got even, though." "Oh? How’d you do that?" "It was easy. Just hooked my leg under my chair and tripped him. Down he went. Right in the middle of the mess he’d made when he dumped his tray." She giggled. "Ouch. I hope you didn’t hurt him." "Nah. He’s too thick skinned. I doubt he even felt it." Her tone changed then, irritation creeping back in. "You know the worst part, though?" "What?" "I’m the one who got in trouble! He gets to go home and change, and I get detention! How fair is that?" "Well, you did trip him, you know. He could have been hurt." Mattie made an exasperated sound under her breath. "I knew you’d see it their way. You know, you’re taking this fatherhood thing a little too much to heart." "I don’t think so. If anything, I’m not taking it enough to heart. I still haven’t found us a house, you know." "No rush. I kind of like things the way they are." Harm chuckled at that. Somehow he wasn’t surprised. "He likes you, you know," he said, a smile in his voice. "Ewwww… no way!" She was quick to retort, but Harm detected a definite note of hope in her young voice. "Yup. Sure does. I’ll bet he asks you to the next school dance." "You think so?" "I’d bet on it." "Hmmm…. Wonder what I’d wear…" Harm laughed. He might be getting older, but he wasn’t too old to remember what teenagers were like. "Listen, Mattie, I need to get going. I’ll try to call back soon, ok?" "Yeah, ok. Take care of yourself, ok?" "You bet. Listen, before I go, can I talk to Jen for a minute?" He could almost hear Mattie rolling her eyes at that. "Yeah, I guess. Just a sec." "Jennifer!" Harm cringed and pulled the phone away from his ear, shaking his head ruefully. That girl had quite a set of lungs. "Commander?" "Hi, Jen." "How’s Colonel Mackenzie?" "Not out of the woods yet, I’m afraid. I haven’t been able to spend much time with her. Things have been a little crazy. When this is all over and we’re safely back home I’ll tell you all about it." "I’m counting on it, Sir." "Listen, I know I’ve not been checking in very often. How’s Mattie been doing?" "She’s fine, Sir." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "She’s having some trouble with a kid at school. Between you and me, Sir, I think she likes him." "I sort of got that impression myself," Harm answered with a grin. "I understand they had a bit of a problem in the cafeteria?" Jen laughed. "Yes, Sir. I think she lost her temper. Ended up with detention." "So I hear." "She’s ok, Sir. Just typical teenage stuff. You don’t need to worry." "I know. She’s in good hands." He paused. "Listen, Jen, I want to thank you again for stepping up to help out like this. I feel like I took advantage of you, and …well, I’m sorry." "No need to worry, Sir. Mattie’s a good kid. We get along great." "Well, I’ll be home just as soon as I can. In the meantime, try to keep her out of trouble, would you?" "I’ll do my best, Sir." "Thanks" "Commander?" Jen’s voice had turned serious. "Yes?" "Tell the colonel we’re all rooting for her." "I will, Jen. Thanks." "Take care." "You too." Harm ended the call and stood up. He should probably check in with the admiral, but his ear ached from being on the phone for so long already. Besides, the admiral probably already knew all about this morning’s events from General Singleton. Right now, he needed to get some food in his stomach. This morning’s coffee had given him the caffeine jolt he’d needed to stay alert, but that had long since worn off. Ten minutes later he sat by himself at a small table, lunch tray in front of him. Food still held no appeal, but he hadn’t eaten anything since that sandwich his first day on base, and he knew that he needed to get something solid into his stomach. He toyed with the flavorless stew and listened idly to the conversations flowing around him. The men were jubilant, more drunk on the success of their morning endeavors than on the cold bottles of beer they held in their hands. Harm understood their need to unwind and de-stress after the mission. After all, this one had been one for the record books. How many men would be able to some day tell their grandchildren that they had nearly witnessed the beginning of World War III – and all over a tree? Toast after toast was offered up in celebration as the men attempted to outdo each other’s creative insults against the PKA. Eventually, the general air of celebration began to grate on his nerves, and he considered taking his tray back to his quarters. Before he could do that, though, a conversation at a nearby table caught his attention. "….Mackenzie?" "Yeah, that was her name." "Why do you suppose they sent a woman out here, anyway?" "No idea. Pretty stupid if you ask me. Women don’t belong here." Harm felt his blood pressure begin to rise, but held his temper. His better judgment seemed to have taken a hike without him, though, because rather then leaving the mess hall, he stayed to listen. "… hear that she’s the one who told them to keep going, even though we were outnumbered. Maybe if she hadn’t been there, none of this would have happened. " Oblivious to Harm’s rapid and menacing approach, he went on. "I mean…just look at the mess we’re in now. Two of our men are dead, and eight more are laid up in Seoul…Hey!" His cry of surprise ended on a gurgle as he found himself up against a wall, a tall angry looking man holding him suspended in midair, his feet flailing uselessly while he gasped for breath. Evidently, Harm had had enough. "Do you have any idea who you’re talking about?" Harm asked, his voice low and dangerous. At the private’s helpless shake of the head, he went on. "Colonel Mackenzie eats toads like you for breakfast. She served in the Gulf War, in Bosnia, in Okinawa and in Indonesia, where she earned the Meritorious Service Medal. She speaks four languages, three of them fluently, and could kick box you into an early grave. Right now she’s lying in a hospital in Seoul because she didn’t back down from the North Koreans. She almost died serving her country, and when she finally went down, it was because some cowardly jackass hit her from behind." His voice notched down even further, anger dripping from the edges of each carefully spoken word. "Now, I’d suggest that in the future you refrain from placing blame unless you know what the hell you’re talking about." Before the soldier could do more than shake his head, a booming voice sliced through the air. "Rabb! Put him down!" General Singleton cut his way through the suddenly silent crowd as Harm slowly and reluctantly lowered his victim back to his feet. The young private groped blindly for a chair and collapsed into it, quickly scooting himself out of Harm’s reach. Harm turned to face the general, no trace of remorse in his steely expression. "This ‘gentleman’ seems to think Colonel Mackenzie got what she deserved. I was merely…" He paused for a minute, consciously slowing his breathing, the adrenalin seeping from him like rapidly melting ice. "…setting the record straight." General Singleton rounded on the two privates. "You stupid idiots! The colonel is a decorated Marine and a highly regarded JAG officer, not to mention this man’s partner." He jabbed a meaty finger toward Harm and shook his head. "Her service file is thicker than your arm and fairly drips with stories about her honor and courage under fire. If you ask me, and you didn’t, I’d rather have one Colonel Mackenzie on my team then a dozen of you! Now, I don’t care what the hell your personal opinions are, but for your sake, you’d better keep them to yourselves from now on, because the next time, I might not be around to save your sorry asses." He turned toward Harm, his expression dark and angry. "You! Come with me." He left the mess, not even bothering to see if Harm followed him. Harm hadn’t completely lost it, though. With one final withering glance toward the stunned soldiers, he turned on his heel and followed the general out the door. Neither of the men spoke until Singleton’s office door slammed shut behind them. Singleton was shorter than Harm, and wider, but he was solid muscle, and Harm was smart enough to be wary of challenging him. Once inside the relative safety of the office, Singleton rounded on him and Harm braced himself for another attack. Still angry from the incident at the mess hall, he was not surprised to feel another rush of adrenalin. Singleton had been after him since he’d gotten here, and he’d just about reached his limit. "Who the hell do you think you are?" asked the general in the same dangerous tone of voice Harm had once heard from the admiral. "Sir?" "You’ve been nothing but trouble since you got here. You run off to Seoul every chance you get, you’re on the phone at all hours…Hell, you can’t even be bothered to shave! You were an embarrassment to me at the Joint Chiefs meeting, almost managed to single-handedly start World War III, and now you’re picking fights with my men! I’ve had it, mister. I’m not throwing you in the brig, but you damn well better believe I’ll be talking to your commanding officer. As soon as this thing is over, I want you off my base!" Harm stood stonily silent, forcing himself not to react to the general’s scathing tones. The effort took every ounce of his concentration, but he knew that if he gave in to temptation now, it would cost him his career. "Sit your ass down in that chair. I want you to hear this." Singleton indicated a single folding metal chair in front of his desk, and Harm sat, his body rigid, nerves on edge. He felt like a school boy called to the principal’s office for discipline, and he hated every heartbeat of it. General Singleton sat down and opened Harm’s service file. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. "This is General Singleton at Camp Liberty Bell. I need a number, please. "Yes, that’s right. "Admiral A.J. Chegwidden, Judge Advocate General. "Yes, I’m aware of the time difference, that’s why I need his home number." Harm cringed inwardly. A.J. did not handle late night calls very well. He knew that the chewing out he was about to get would be particularly ugly. "Got it. Thanks." Singleton disconnected and dialed the series of numbers he had jotted down on a legal pad. There was a pause while he waited for the admiral to pick up. Then... "Hello, Admiral Chegwidden? This is General Singleton at Camp Liberty Bell. "What? No. Nothing like that. Operation George Washington went off without a hitch a few hours ago. Now we’re all just waiting to see what the North Koreans will do next." Harm only heard one side of the conversation, but he imagined the admiral had been afraid Singleton’s call meant bad news. It did, but the news was of a different nature than Chegwidden expected. "Actually, I’m calling about Commander Rabb." A short pause, and then… "Yes, there’ve been some…difficulties. He’s here now. May I put you on speaker?" Evidently, the admiral agreed, because Singleton reached across his desk and punched a button on his telephone. Immediately, A.J.’s voice boomed into the small space. "Rabb! What’ve you done now?" "Sir?" "Never mind. Singleton? What’s the story?" Harm listened while the general outlined his more heinous crimes, seething at the unfair slant Singleton gave the story as he told it. All of it – the trips to Seoul, the Joint Chiefs meeting, his preoccupation – everything right up through the incident in the mess hall, was listed in such a way as to make it sound as though Harm was a completely incompetent officer. When he finally finished, there was a silence. "Well, Rabb? What’ve you got to say for yourself?" Harm’s pride would not allow him to beg forgiveness nor even to attempt to set the story straight. Standing up for himself right now would only make him look worse. "Nothing, Sir. The facts are correct as stated by the general." He said it stiffly, and with dignity, and was rewarded with a momentary look of surprise on Singleton’s face that was quickly masked by impassivity. Harm wondered briefly what had caused the look, but was brought back to the present by A.J.’s angry voice. "Commander, you’d better get your act together or so help me God I’ll come over there and kick your ass the length of the DMZ and back. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes, Sir." "Good. Now get the hell out of there. I want to speak to the general alone." "Yes, Sir." Harm didn’t need any encouragement. He was out of his chair and closing the door gently behind him before the general could have time to consider the legality of the admiral’s order. He went directly back to his room at the VOQ, collapsing on the bed with a long frustrated sigh. He had never served under such difficult conditions before. If he had, he might have gotten out of the Navy before this. Singleton was an insufferable buffoon, and Harm disliked him more every time he came into contact with him. He was still seething with anger when his cell phone rang. He glanced at his watch, surprised to see how late it had gotten. "Rabb" "Commander Rabb. This is Doctor Lee. I’m glad I caught you." Momentary fear rushed through Harm, and he sat up. "Mac?" "She’s ok. In fact, that’s why I’m calling. I know we said we weren’t going to do this until seventeen hundred hours, but her vital signs have been steadily improving all day. I think she’ll be ok if we do it now." "Are you sure Doctor? I don’t want to push this too hard and …" He couldn’t finish, but Dr. Lee guessed his thoughts. "I don’t think we’re pushing. I honestly think she’s ready. You’ll have to trust me on this one." Trusting people was not something that came easily to Harmon Rabb Junior, but without medical training, it seemed he didn’t have a choice. "O.K., Doctor. Let’s do it." Harm stood, nervously pacing back and forth across the small room. He was terrified of what was about to happen, but he knew they had to take a chance. Mac couldn’t stay on the respirator forever. She had to take this step. God, how he wished he could be there to hold her hand and cheer her on. "Come on, Mac, you can do this. Breathe." He said the words softly, fully aware that Mac couldn’t hear them, and yet hoping that somehow, through whatever connection bound them together, she would know. "Commander?" "Yes?" "Are you ready?" "Ready as I’ll ever be." "Would you like me to put the phone on the pillow?" "Yes, please." There were muffled sounds and then momentary silence. Distantly, he heard the doctor tell somebody to turn off the respirator. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment when he’d know once and for all whether or not she would come back to him. "Please, Mac. Please." He begged. "Breathe, Mac. Come on. You can do this." His voice was low, intense. More distant sounds. Then Doctor Lee’s voice. "She’s not breathing, Commander. If she doesn’t start soon, we may be in trouble." Harm almost panicked then. She couldn’t give up now. Not when they’d been through so much together. Not when he was finally ready to commit to her – to a relationship and a future together. Oh God. Without realizing it, he began yelling at her - desperate to evoke a response. "Mac! Is that it?!? You’re just going to quit? Give up? You’d let the North Koreans gloat that they took down another American? Is that what you want?" An alarm sounded. High pitched. Constant. Terrifying. Harm began to cry with frustration and fear. His voice became cajoling. He knew his desperation was obvious to anybody within earshot, but he didn’t care. As long as Mac responded, nothing else mattered. "Mac. Please. I love you. Please come back to me. Give me a chance to hold you in my arms and swear to you that I’ll never let you go again. You’ve got so much to live for. Don’t let go now. Come on, Mac. One breath. Please? For me?" Silence. Somebody had turned off the shrieking alarm. Everybody waited. And prayed. And then… "There she goes." Doctor Lee’s voice, jubilant with relief. Evidently, he picked up the phone, because his voice was suddenly much closer. "She’s breathing, Commander. That was a close call. She had me worried. But I think she’s going to make it now. We just need to give her a few more days to come out of this coma, and then she’ll need somebody by her side to help her start the long road back to recovery. "Thank God." Harm didn’t attempt to disguise the tears in his voice. He suspected the doctor had heard that sound before and understood what it meant. "Can I talk to her for a few more minutes?" "Sure. I need to make some notes on her chart. I’ll be back in about ten minutes." "Thank you. And Doctor Lee?" "Yes?" "Thanks." "You’re welcome. Colonel Mackenzie’s lucky to have a man who loves her as much as you do." "Thanks." He waited until he was certain he was alone with her before he began talking again. "Mac…Sarah… I don’t know when I’ve ever been so scared. Me. Mr. Ice blood fighter pilot. I was so terrified I couldn’t see straight. When that alarm went off, I thought I’d lost you." He paused, drying his eyes on his sleeve before going on. "Don’t you ever scare me like that again, do you hear me?" He chuckled softly, relief evident in his voice. "For once, Mac, you weren’t the only one crying. But if you ever tell anybody that you finally made me crack, I swear, I’ll deny it." Crisis past, Harm settled down to tell Mac what had happened during the long hours of the afternoon. He left out a few of the more colorful details, figuring there’d be time enough to tell her those when she was up and about. For now, He just wanted her to hear his voice. Needed her to know that he was as close to her as he was able to get right now and that he was praying for her swift recovery. All too soon, he heard Doctor Lee come back on the line. "Commander Rabb?" "Yes?" "Colonel Mackenzie needs to rest now." Harm almost laughed outright at the seeming absurdity of that. Mac had been "resting" for almost a week. He didn’t comment, though. It didn’t seem right to tease the doctor who had just given him back the one person who was more important to him than life itself. "I understand," he said instead, though he’d have continued to talk to her for hours if he’d been allowed. "It’s just about seventeen hundred hours now. I doubt there’ll be much change in the colonel’s condition during the night. If you’d like to call back in the morning…?" "Absolutely." "All right. I’ll talk to you then." "Goodbye, Doctor." Harm hung up. It had been another unbelievably draining day, and even though it was only early evening, he felt like he was moving through quicksand. Deciding that a good workout might clear his mind, he changed his clothes and headed for the base fitness center.
**** End Part 4 ****
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