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Shades of Gray
Author: Pixie Rating: PG Classification: Jag Story. Romance/Angst Spoilers: Pretty much anything goes. Disclaimers: The characters aren’t mine, but they sure are fun to play with once in a while. Acknowledgements: My deepest gratitude to Captain for being my sounding board, to Craig for educating me on all things Australian, and to Aerogirl for her red pen. Summary: Harm and Mac race against the clock to solve a mystery at the Joint Defense Space Research Facility near Alice Springs, Australia AN: This story is set in season 9, but the relationship between Harm and Mac won’t make sense unless you’ve read my earlier story… A Jag Thanksgiving.
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1300 Zulu (8:00am Local)
Mac breezed through the quiet bullpen, briefcase in hand, umbrella and coat dripping with rapidly melting snow. She flipped on her office light, put down her case and hung up her jacket and umbrella to dry. Mac loved mornings, and not even a gray and gloomy one like today’s was going to bring her down. She headed for the break room, looking forward to a hot cup of coffee before starting work. Minutes later, Mac leaned against the counter, warming her hands on the hot mug while she considered the day’s workload. She had two witness statements scheduled for this morning, and she hoped to finish them early enough to look over her opening statement for the Murphy case this afternoon. It was a tough case. Defending an obviously guilty client against Commander Turner’s needle sharp prosecution always exhausted her. She felt prepared, but she knew it was going to be a rough afternoon. Mac turned to drop her coffee stirrer in the trash before returning to her office, and looked up in time to see Harm enter the break room. Harm was not a morning person. In fact, he tended to be rather grouchy until he had gotten a large quantity of caffeine into his system. She smiled at him as they passed, he on the way in, and she on the way out. "Good morning," she said cheerfully. "Morning," he grumbled, barely glancing at her as he reached for a large mug. Mac grinned and headed back to her office. She knew Harm wasn’t deliberately being rude. He just wasn’t quite awake yet. She had settled in at her desk and was opening her first case file when her telephone rang. "Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie," she answered, beginning to read. "Colonel?" Coates asked. "The admiral wants you and Commander Rabb in his office immediately." "On my way," said Mac, already on her feet by the time she set the phone down. She made it to the admiral’s outer office just ahead of Harm, and she tossed a grin at him. "Little slow this morning, Navy?" "Nah… I let you win. Thought you could use the confidence boost." Coates interrupted their banter, an unusually serious look on her face. Something about the tone of Admiral Chegwidden’s voice when he’d ordered her to find his senior officers had unnerved her. "Go right in, Sir, Ma’am," said Coates. "He’s waiting for you." In moments, they were standing at attention in front of the admiral’s desk. "At ease," he ordered. "Take a seat." It was only after they were seated that Mac noticed the grim look on the admiral’s face. She had seen that particular expression on only two other occasions. One was when he learned of Harm’s disappearance on the night of her rehearsal dinner. The other was when he told the staff that the Roberts’ baby had died in childbirth. Immediately sensing that something was terribly wrong, Mac tensed. "Sir?" Harm asked. The admiral stood from his chair and turned to stare out the window for a long moment before returning his attention to the attorneys. "I’m afraid I’ve had some bad news," he finally said. "Mic Brumby was killed in the line of duty last night." Mac gasped in shock, and her hands tightened on the arms of her chair. She fought to maintain an appropriate level of professionalism, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place to fall apart. Harm glanced at her, and then back at the admiral. "What happened, Sir?" he asked. "That’s a long story," said a voice from the shadows. Mac saw Harm stiffen. She hadn’t noticed Clay when they came in, and apparently Harm hadn’t either, but it was fairly obvious that her partner wasn’t happy to learn of his presence. Webb ignored Harm’s reaction, and moved closer to the admiral’s desk. "Ever heard of Pine Gap?" he asked. Both officers shook their heads. "It’s another name for the Joint Defense Space Research Facility. It’s a high security intelligence gathering base in the remote Australian outback. We have people there from the NSA, the National Reconnaissance Office, and the CIA as well as the USAF. The work that goes on out there is classified, so I can’t give you many details beyond telling you that it’s vitally important to Operation Iraqi Freedom. Lately, they’ve been having some problems out there. It seems some of the locals aren’t too wild about the situation in Iraq, and they figure that if they can chase us away, maybe it’ll slow down or even stop the war all together." Harm’s eyebrows went up at that. "Kind of simplistic thinking, isn’t it?" he asked. "Surely shutting down one base wouldn’t make that big of a difference." "Actually, it might," answered Webb. "As I said, the work performed there is vital to the war effort." Mac shifted impatiently. She still didn’t understand how Pine Gap had anything to do with Mic. Apparently, Webb sensed her frustration, because he went on. "About a year ago, there was a big demonstration at Pine Gap." Webb picked up a file from the desk and opened it. He took out two sheets of paper and gave them to Mac. "Here’s a list of the names and addresses of the people who were arrested during the protests. Quite a few of them were locals. It might come in handy." He put the folder back down before continuing. "After the demonstration, things got quiet. Then about two months ago, they started having problems again. Most of the incidents have been relatively minor. One time somebody put water in the gas tank of one of the buses that transports people between their homes and the base. Another time, a single tire was slashed…on each and every bus." Webb shoved his hands in his pockets before continuing. "Some of the staff have had problems, too. Somebody dumped bags of garbage on an agent’s front porch. Two people had their cars vandalized." Webb paused and opened the folder again, this time taking out two pictures and handing them to Harm, who glanced at them before passing them to Mac. "This is from three weeks ago," said Webb. "These agents were taken from their homes in the middle of the night, blindfolded, driven 20 miles into the outback, and dumped." Webb looked grim. "Luckily, they survived the experience. When they were found, they were severely dehydrated and sunburned, but alive. They could just as easily have been dead." Mac looked down at the photos she held. In them, she saw two middle aged people, lips cracked and bloody, eyes glassy, faces blistered from the sun. The pictures had obviously been taken in a hospital. She handed them back to Webb, who put them away and took out another, handing this one to Mac. "This is from two weeks ago," he said. "I have no idea how somebody got close enough to set it up." Mac looked down at the picture in her hand and had to stifle a gasp. Hanging from the fence were the bodies of four animals. She guessed they were dogs, but it was impossible to know for certain. All of the bodies were badly burned and decomposed. She grimaced and passed the photo to Harm, who glanced at it briefly before returning it to Webb. "These incidents were reported to the local police, who apparently passed the information up the chain of command. Eventually the situation came to the attention of the Australian military." Mac drew in a sharp breath. For a few minutes, she’d been able to set aside the news about Mic, but at Webb’s words, it hit her again, and she struggled to maintain her control as Webb continued the briefing. "We have an excellent relationship with Australia. Their government mounted Operation Catalyst in support of our efforts in Iraq. But a lot of Aussies aren’t too thrilled about it." Webb leaned against a corner of the admiral’s desk close to Mac in silent support. "Pine Gap is an American installation on Australian soil. It’s in an isolated area that is relatively easy to get to. That makes it an obvious target. With that in mind, the RAN decided to send somebody out to have a look around and see if they could find out what’s going on." Harm and Mac looked at each other. "Brumby," said Harm, at the same time as Mac’s softer "Mic?" "Got it in one," answered Webb grimly. "Apparently, Brumby went out there and started sniffing around. Three days ago, he notified his CO that he suspected a plot to destroy the base. His CO…" he checked his notes. "A Captain Robert Howell, gave him permission to continue the investigation, and warned him to be careful." Webb paused to meet Mac’s eyes before he continued. "Two days ago, Mic Brumby disappeared. His body was found early yesterday morning. He’d been shot once in the back of the head, and left in the open, near the only road that leads into the base." Mac’s hands tightened on the arms of her chair, and her face paled, but those were the only indications of her reaction to Webb’s news. Admiral Chegwidden took over the briefing, and Mac focused her attention on him. "I want the two of you down there. If all hell breaks loose, I need somebody in place who knows international law and Australian politics. Mac, give the Murphy case to Lieutenant Roberts. He can handle it for you. I want you both to get me a list of your outstanding cases so that I can get them reassigned in your absence." He looked at Mac. "I imagine you’ll want to attend Brumby’s funeral. It’s scheduled for Saturday morning. You can get the details when you get down there." He sat down at his desk, his gaze taking in both officers before he continued. "After the funeral, I want you both to get to Alice Springs. I’ve already notified base officials that you’re coming. We need to find out what’s going on and get it under control as quickly as possible." "Wait a minute," Harm said. "I thought the trouble was at Pine Gap. Why are we going to Alice Springs?" Webb answered. "Everybody who works at Pine Gap lives in Alice Springs and is bussed to and from the base. You should be able to do most of your work in Alice Springs, but I've arranged for you to have access to the base when you need it." Harm nodded, and he and Mac rose to attention, awaiting the admiral’s dismissal. "One more thing," said Admiral Chegwidden. "This is a politically sensitive situation. We need this base, and that means we need to keep the Australian government happy. Whatever you find needs to come back here. I don’t want anybody chasing after shadows without orders from me." He looked directly at Harm while he said it, and Mac saw her partner’s slight nod. She knew Harm well enough, though, to realize that it was going to be her job to keep him on a short leash. Their C.O. stared grimly into Harm’s eyes for a few more seconds before seeming satisfied that he’d made his point. "Dismissed," he said. Harm and Mac spun on their heels and left the office, closing the hatch behind them. Mac went directly to her own office and closed the door. She slumped into her chair, but refused to give in to her grief. Instead, she grabbed a note pad and began scribbling notes for Bud about the Murphy trial. She was damned if she was going to fall apart in the middle of JAG Ops, and that meant she had to get out of there, fast. Mac’s concentration was so intense that she jumped when she felt a light touch on her arm. She looked up, and the sympathy and concern she saw in Harm’s eyes was almost her undoing. Desperate to get away, she pushed her chair back and stood, slipping past him and stepping quickly to the door. "I need to discuss the Murphy case with Bud. I’ll be ready to go in 45 minutes," she said. She didn’t look back, so she missed the worried expression on Harm’s face as his hand dropped to his side.
2015 Zulu (8:15pm Local)
Harm and Mac looked around blearily. It had been an incredibly long flight, and though both had tried to sleep, neither had had much success. Mac had spent much of the flight staring silently out the window, and Harm had alternated between his concern for her and his determination to learn all he could about the base at Pine Gap. There wasn’t much. He now knew that there were twenty-six antennas on the base, fourteen of which were housed in protective domes. He also knew that the technology housed on the base was sophisticated enough to pick up mobile radio and radar transmissions. The Iraqi military regime couldn’t be too thrilled about that. Armed with this knowledge, it didn’t surprise Harm that there might be people who would want to see the base destroyed. Beside him, Mac started to move forward, and Harm saw a young navy lieutenant coming toward them. "Commander Rabb? Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie?" At their nods, he saluted smartly. "I’m Lieutenant Ridley. Captain Howell asked me to meet you and escort you to your quarters." Harm and Mac automatically returned the salute, then picked up their carry on luggage, following the young man to baggage claim. An hour later, Ridley delivered them to their hotel. He handed Harm a single sheet of paper. "This is the information about Commander Brumby’s funeral arrangements," he said. "Captain Howell said that you would want to be there." "Yes, thank you," said Harm, noticing that Mac had turned away into her own room. After the lieutenant had left, Harm crossed the hall, and knocked gently on Mac’s closed door. When she opened it, her suspiciously bright eyes made a lie of her cheerful smile. "You ok?" asked Harm. "I’m fine," she answered. "Why do you ask?" Harm folded his arms. He recognized in Mac the same rigid self-control that he’d maintained after Jordan’s death. He also remembered, with painful clarity, what had happened when he’d finally loosened that control. It hadn’t been pretty, and he didn’t want Mac go through that if he could help it. The sooner she started dealing with this, the better off she would be. "Do you want to talk?" he asked her gently. "Not particularly," said Mac. She turned and walked back to the open suitcase on her bed. She hadn’t closed the door in his face though, and Harm followed her in, closing the door behind him. "Mac," he said. "Don’t do this. It’s not healthy." "Don’t do what?" she answered, but she refused to meet his eyes. Instead, she picked up a handful of decidedly feminine undergarments and moved to the small dresser to put them away. A moment later Harm heard a soft thud and a muffled curse as the drawer landed on Mac’s foot. She put her hands on the top of the dresser, leaned forward, and dropped her head, finally unable to hold back any longer. "Mac…" In two long strides Harm was by her side. He turned her toward him and gathered her into his arms. He didn’t say anything, simply holding her while she poured out her grief. They stood that way for several minutes, until Mac’s tears finally slowed and she pulled away from him to reach for a tissue from the box on the dresser. "I’m sorry," she said, as she dabbed at her watery eyes. "Hey." He captured her chin and gently forced her to look at him. "It’s ok." Mac dropped her eyes and tried to turn away, but Harm held her, waiting until she looked back at him. "It’s ok, Mac." He said it more firmly this time, wanting to make sure he got through to her. She had to know that he would help her through this. The eyes that finally met his shimmered sadly in the deepening gloom of the hotel room, and he pulled her close again, wishing he could somehow ease her pain. No matter how conflicted his own feelings had been about Mic Brumby and his relationship with Mac, Harm hated that she had to go through this now. He knew that she had cared deeply for Brumby and that she still felt guilty about the way their relationship had ended. Now she would never have a chance to put things right between them, and Harm suspected the thought was tearing her apart. He held her as she struggled for control, and knew the moment she’d found it, as her back stiffened and her chin came up. He let her go and stepped back, letting his arms to drop to his sides. He watched her turn and go into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her. While she was gone, he picked up the drawer and slid it back into its place, then turned on a lamp. He was standing at the window looking out into the Australian night when he heard the bathroom door open. "Why don’t we grab a bite to eat?" He suggested, "I noticed a seafood place just down the street. We could walk there." "Sure," she said, grateful for the chance to think about something other than Mic. "Just let me grab my purse." Twenty minutes later, they were seated in the quiet restaurant. While they ate, Mac talked about Mic, reliving old memories, and Harm clamped down on his jealousy, knowing that those feelings were inappropriate here. As he had suspected, Mac still felt guilty about the way her relationship with Mic had ended, and although he tried to reassure her that Mic probably understood more than she gave him credit for, Harm knew that she would have to work through this on her own, and that nothing he could do would speed the process. Toward the end of the meal, he caught himself yawning and smiled apologetically. "I think it’s all catching up to me. What do you say we head back and get some sleep?" He didn’t say anything about the funeral scheduled for the following morning, aware that Mac didn’t need to be reminded. He paid the bill, and soon they were back at the hotel. They walked in companionable silence to their rooms. Harm started to open his door, but Mac's voice stopped him. "Harm?" He turned, surprised to find her standing so close behind him. "Thanks," she said, meeting his eyes. "You’re welcome," he answered, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He gazed into her eyes, trying to translate the myriad messages hidden there, but she dropped her eyes, and reached to straighten his collar. After a long moment, she spoke. I know you never liked Mic," she started, but Harm interrupted her. "Mac, I never disliked Mic. I just never thought he was right for you," he said. "I hate to see you hurting like this. I’ve been there. It’s not fun." He captured her restless hand in his, and without thinking, dropped his head to kiss her fingers. When he lifted his head he froze, captured by the look in Mac’s eyes. "Mac?" Her name came out with what felt like all the breath in his lungs as she stretched up and joined her lips to his. He tried to keep the kiss simple, but it quickly spun out of control as gratitude changed to something more. Without conscious thought, Harm wrapped his arms around her, molding her soft body to his firmer one. He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, and his heart leaped when her own tongue darted out to meet him. Her hands kneaded his shoulders before moving to play with the hair at the back of his neck, and he pulled her closer still, deepening the kiss, vaguely aware that he was rapidly approaching the point of no return. At the end of the hall, the elevator chimed, and the sound startled Harm to awareness. He pulled back, but kept his hands loosely linked around Mac’s waist. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and slightly bemused. "Wow," she said. "Yeah," he answered. So much for their famous lawyers’ eloquence. "Listen, Mac. I’m … sorry. That was out of line." She placed a fingertip on his lips, and Harm found it hard to resist kissing it. "Never say you’re sorry," she said. "It’s a sign of weakness." He smiled. "We should get some sleep." He tried to convince himself to move away from her warmth. "Yes," she said, making no move to pull out of his arms. He rested his forehead against hers, and they stood that way for a long time. Finally, Mac sighed. "I should go," she said. "Yes," he answered, and reluctantly dropped his hands. He watched her turn away and cross to her room. He ached to call her back, but he knew that if he touched her again, he wouldn’t be able to let her go. Instead, he turned and went into his own room, closing the door quietly, but waiting to hear hers close before moving to get ready for bed.
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