Soaring Free
(Part 4 of 7)

 

 


Chapter 8               Chapter 9


 

Chapter 8

1000 Local
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Mac stepped inside her office, took one look at her desk, and burst into laughter. She flipped over the tag attached to the gift basket, even though she didn't need to see it to know whom it was from. Only one person would send her a basket of pasta. The small square of white cardstock was unadorned except for the simple trailing vine that bordered its edge. "Mac: Enjoyed dinner. Call me. Gunnar."

She was poking through the assortment of goodies when a movement at the door caught her attention. Harm leaned against the doorjamb, one eyebrow cocked inquisitively.

"Secret admirer, Mac?" His smile was lopsided, his arms crossed against his chest.

"It's from Gunnar," she said. "A thank you for dinner last night."

Harm stepped over and picked up a package of angel hair pasta, quickly scanning the label. He whistled under his breath.

"Nice."

"Oh?" Mac wasn't exactly a food connoisseur, and she wasn't ashamed to admit it. "Good stuff?"

"The best," Harm nodded, trading the package of angel hair for one of rotini and reading the label again. He grinned at her. "Let me know if you need any help eating it."

Mac snatched the package out of his hands and put everything back in the basket. "Don't get your hopes up."

"Darn."

Harm looked almost comically crestfallen, and Mac grinned at him. "We're scheduled to meet with the NTSB team this afternoon. Want a ride?"

"I'll have to meet you there," he said. "I've got court this morning, and I might be a little late getting out."

"Is there anything in particular you need me to find out?"

He shrugged. "Anything you can. This case still has too many unanswered questions for my taste."

Mac nodded. "I agree."

She settled into her chair and opened the case file, scanning its contents quickly before looking up again. "Did you find anything interesting in the documentation from Ashburn?"

Harm shook his head. "Not yet. Oh. That reminds me. I got a call from Jack Stone last night. He said he'd found some additional paperwork. He's going to have copies made and sent over this afternoon."

"Good. And Gunnar said they should have autopsy results this morning. When are you going out to the carrier to interview the captain's crewmates?"

"This weekend."

Mac shook her head ruefully. "I don't suppose we can convince the general to give that assignment to somebody else? We have about fifteen things to do this weekend… Caterer, florist…" She waved a hand. "The list goes on forever."

Harm shook his head. "You know better, Mac."

She blew out a breath and closed the folder before leaning back in her chair. "I know I do." She twisted her engagement ring around her finger. "It's just-" A flash of light ricocheted off the edge of her diamond, and she glanced down at it. "Life would be so much easier if we were already married."

"We're almost there, Mac. Less than ten days left." His low voice conveyed his own frustration.

She smiled a little ruefully at him. "Tell me again why we shouldn't just elope?"

"Maybe because we don't want to get lynched?"

She snapped her fingers. "That's right." She sat up and pulled another file from the stack on her desk. She flipped it open, picked up her pen, and glanced up at him.

"Well?" she said. "What are you still doing here? There's work to be done."

Harm snapped to attention and fired off a jaunty salute. "Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am." He executed a precise about-face and strode from her office. As he turned outside the door, she caught a wink and a flash of his quirky grin. She was still smiling as she settled in to work.

Mac arrived at the NTSB offices a few minutes ahead of schedule. Harm had sent a note from the courtroom letting her know that he'd definitely be late. She collected her things and headed into the NTSB building, unconcerned. It wouldn't be the first time she'd handled a meeting like this on her own.

Gunnar met her in the reception area, waited while she dealt with security and received her visitor's badge, and then escorted her to a small conference room. Edward Maybourne sat inside, surrounded by folders and a half empty coffee mug. He stood when she entered.

"Colonel MacKenzie. Nice to see you again." His tone was formal, but not unfriendly. She shook his hand, and settled into the chair Gunnar pulled out for her.

Maybourne waited until she was comfortable. "Will Commander Rabb be joining us?"

"He's tied up in court," Mac said. "He'll try to join us later." She pulled the file out of her briefcase and set it in front of her. "We've been working together on this. I'm sure we'll be fine without him."

Maybourne nodded at Gunnar, who shut the door and sat down across from Mac. Edward handed Mac a single sheet of paper. "The NTSB is closing its investigation," he said, without preamble.

Mac glanced down at the paper. It was the autopsy report. She scanned it quickly, and then looked up again. "It says here the cause of death was blunt force trauma," she said. "Wouldn't that be consistent with a crash?"

"Yes," the older man answered. "That isn't why we're closing the case.” He pointed at something about two thirds of the way down the page, and Mac read the paragraph carefully. When she'd finished, she looked up, eyes wide.

"That's it, then?"

"I'm afraid so."

Mac started to speak, but Maybourne stopped her with a raised hand. "Look. The NTSB is spread pretty thin. We've been over the plane without finding anything wrong." He glanced across at Gunnar, who shook his head slightly. "We talked to the builder, and to Captain Clark's commanding officer, and we conducted extensive interviews at the airstrip, at his work place, and with his wife and family. This report only confirms what we'd already come to suspect."

"Does his wife know?"

"Not yet. We'll be driving over to see her when we're done here."

Mac thought about Paige Clark and her beautiful little girl. This news would destroy them. She shook her head sadly. "You know what this will mean for his family, don't you?"

Maybourne nodded, his expression one of resignation. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about that. The facts of the case speak for themselves."

Mac gathered her papers and shoved them back into her briefcase, inexplicably angry.

"You can close the case if you need to," she said grimly, "but I'm not willing to accept your verdict."

She felt Gunnar's light touch on her arm and looked up at him. "Mac," he said, and then glanced across at his partner. "I mean, Colonel… There really isn't any other possibility here."

"We haven't even finished our investigation yet, and you people are calling it quits." She shook her head. "Well, at JAG, we don’t give up that easily." She snapped the clasps on her briefcase and stood up, nodding coldly to the two men. "Gentlemen." She moved to the door. "I can find my own way out."

She had opened her car door and was stowing her briefcase inside when a large hand settled on her shoulder. She spun around, ready to defend herself against an attacker, only to relax when she recognized Gunnar.

"You forgot to turn in your visitor's badge," he said calmly.

She unclipped it and thrust it at him.

"Calm down, Mac."

"You and Maybourne are taking the easy way out. I can't respect that."

"You don't understand."

"No? Then explain it to me."

He sighed. "Do we have to have this conversation here?"

In answer, Mac leaned against the car and folded her arms across her chest. "Here seems as good a place as any."

Gunnar recognized the stubborn set to her jaw and sighed. "We spent hours on this case, Mac. We analyzed the wreckage, talked to everybody and his brother, ran the autopsy… Hell, we did everything but hold a séance."

"Did you talk to his shipmates from his last assignment? Did you recreate the crash? Did you pick apart the design manuals?"

Gunnar shook his head. "You know we didn't have time for all that."

"Then how can you say the investigation is complete?"

"We don’t go to that level of detail on every investigation, Mac." He was defensive now. "It just isn't cost effective."

"Cost effective?" Mac couldn't believe it. "Are you going to explain cost effective to Captain Clark's widow?"

Gunnar threw up his hands in exasperation. "Can we just agree to disagree here? There isn't anything I can do about it. I'm just a junior investigator."

She looked at him, disappointed. "The Gunnar I used to know would've fought for what he believed in. Where did he go?"

"He grew up."

"I guess I didn't realize that growing up had to mean giving in," she said bitterly.

Gunnar growled in exasperation. He ran his hands through his hair, took a few steps away and then turned to look at her. Mac watched him, still angry, but also disappointed. The man she’d known in college wouldn’t have accepted this so easily. He wouldn't have given up on an investigation because of budget concerns.

As she watched him, the expression on his face suddenly softened and he stepped back to her, shaking his head ruefully.

"You're doing it again," he said.

Mac was puzzled. "Doing what?"

"Arguing me to a standstill. You used to do it to me all the time in college." He shook his head. "I bet you're a fantastic lawyer."

She smiled a little at that. "I get by."

He sighed his concession. "So what is it you want me to do?"

Mac considered that for a moment. "Do you think you can convince your partner to hold off on making his final report for a few days?"

"How many days is a few?" Gunnar asked warily.

She flashed a hopeful smile at him. "Say… A week, maybe?"

Gunnar shook his head. "A week. You're asking for a miracle. You know that."

"Just a little one," she said. "Look. Harm's going out to the Harry Truman to talk to Captain Clark's shipmates this weekend, and we're still going over some of the documentation from Ashburn. We may not find anything, but I'm asking for the chance to try. Please."

"This means that much to you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Mac thought about it for a minute. The truth was, she wasn't really sure herself. She just had a gut instinct. "Captain Clark's service record is spotless," she said finally. "He served his country with honor. I think we owe him a thorough investigation. Besides –" She folded her arms and lifted an eyebrow. "–what man would commit suicide right in front of his wife?"

Gunnar was silent for a few moments, considering his options. "If I do this, and we end up right back where we are now, it could put a serious dent in my career."

"And if we don't? If we find out there really was another cause?"

"It could have the opposite effect."

"Isn't it worth taking the chance?"

He studied her so intently that she squirmed uncomfortably, wondering what he was thinking.

"I don't know if the case is," he finally murmured, "but I do know that you are." And with that, he gathered her into his arms, and settled his lips on hers.

Mac was so stunned by his unexpected move that for the space of a single heartbeat, she did nothing. Then, reluctant to hurt his feelings, she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed gently against him, turning her head slightly away from his at the same time. At first, he resisted the message she was sending, but finally he pulled back, his blue eyes locked upon her own. Time stopped for long seconds as they each floundered for the words that would ease the sudden awkwardness between them, and in the intensity of the moment, neither noticed the Lexus that stopped, hesitated, and then slowly backed away.

Gunnar looked down at Mac's stunned expression.

"Hey," he said, trying for humor. "Was I that bad?"

Mac shook her head. "Gunnar… I…"

He interrupted her. "I know. You're engaged."

"Then why?"

He hitched a shoulder and scuffed a toe, the man becoming the guilty little boy. "I couldn't let you go without at least trying." He looked at her, his eyes boring into her as though determined to find the truth no matter where she might try to hide it. "Do you love him?"

Mac reeled from his words, and her mind flashed back to another engagement, another time in her life. She met his eyes, her gaze confident and serene. "Not that you really have the right to ask, but yes. I do love him."

Seconds passed while the truth of her admission penetrated his denial. When it did, he dropped his hands and stepped back.

"I owe you an apology." His words were leaden.

Mac stepped closer to him and smoothed his shirt collar while she sorted out her thoughts. "All those years ago at college…You were my rock. My strength. You were there for me when my uncle couldn't be. I'm grateful to you for that, Gunnar. More grateful than you'll ever know."

"I don't want your gratitude." His voice was bitter.

"No. I know you don't," she said. "Gunnar, when we were in college I was more than a little bit in love with you."

"But…?"

"But that was then." She looked across to where a colorful display of perennials danced in the light breeze. "I've changed, Gunnar. We both have. Our lives have turned us into different people."

"I'm not so very different."

"But I am. I know that. Don't get me wrong. I still care very deeply for you, and I always will, but my life is with Harm now. "

Gunnar's eyes snapped to hers. "Harm? Commander Rabb's your fiancé?"

She nodded.

"I thought there were rules against that sort of thing."

"There are. One of us is going to be transferred out before the wedding."

"When's that?" he asked.

"A week from Saturday."

"And you still don't know who's transferring or where?"

"Not yet."

Gunnar shook his head slowly at her. "You lead an interesting life, Mac."

A kaleidoscope of images flashed through Mac's mind, memories of years gone by, and she smiled a little. "You have no idea."

"Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive - unless, of course, you don't come to the wedding."

"Will I get a proper invitation?"

"Demanding sort, aren't you."

"Hell yes." He grinned, and Mac laughed.

"I'll get one in the mail to you this afternoon." She glanced at her watch. "It's getting late. I need to get back to the office."

"Of course." He held the door for her while she settled herself inside. "And Mac?"

"Yes?" She started the car and rolled down the window.

"Thanks."

She smiled up at him as she pulled the door closed. "You bet." He stepped away from the car and watched as she backed out of the space. He didn't fail to miss the irony in the fact that once again he found himself staring after her as she left.

Chapter 9

1425 Local
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Mac knocked lightly on the doorjamb, smiling at Harm when he looked up from the file he'd been reading.

"Hi," he said, his tone oddly flat.

"Hi."

"How'd the meeting go?" He leaned back in his chair.

"May I sit?"

"Make yourself at home." He waved to the pair of chairs that faced his desk.

She sat, crossing her legs and leaning forward slightly.

"They're calling it suicide," she said.

"Based on what?"

"Autopsy results. Apparently, a virus had attacked his heart, causing permanent damage. According to the report, he only had about six months to live."

"What about a transplant?"

Mac shrugged. "Apparently, the captain had a rare blood type."

"A transplant would've been a slim hope at best." Harm shook his head. "So they think it was suicide by plane?"

She nodded. "That's what they're assuming."

"And what do you think?"

"I don't know, Harm. The evidence does seem to point to suicide."

"But?"

"You met his wife and daughter. You've seen his record. Does suicide make sense to you?"

Harm shook his head. "Not really, no."

He looked at her, and for the first time Mac noticed the distance in his gaze. "So the NTSB is closing the case?" he asked.

"Not yet."

"I thought you said they'd decided it was suicide."

"They did. I convinced them to give us another week before writing their final report."

"I see." Something about the way he said it made her look sharply at him, but his expression was bland, perhaps too much so.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He met her gaze, his expression shuttered. "We need to talk."

"What's on your mind?"

"Not here."

Concerned, she nodded. "Want to come over later?"

"Sure."

Mac stood, suddenly uncomfortable in the closed confines of his office.

"I'll see you then."

Harm picked up his pen and glanced down at the papers in front of him. "See you later."

His tone was dismissive, and Mac left the room with a brick in her stomach.

2045 Local
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

Mac looked up from her reading when she heard the knock. She pulled the door open, her smile fading at the closed expression on Harm's face. She stepped back and waved him inside, closing the door before turning to face him.

"Can I get you a drink?" Her words and tone were formal, an instinctive response to the set of his shoulders and jaw.

"No. Thanks. I won't be staying. I'm leaving in the morning for the Truman and I still need to pack my sea bag."

"Tomorrow? I thought you weren't leaving until Friday."

He shrugged. "I managed to snag a spot on a COD."

"I see." She didn't really, but she knew she'd find out soon. "Shall we sit?"

Harm glanced over at the couch, but shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Want to tell me what this is about?"

Harm stared hard at her for a moment, organizing his thoughts. "I was there this afternoon, Mac."

Mac blinked at him, slow to catch his train of thought. "There…?"

"NTSB."

It hit Mac then. He hadn't said it, but he didn't have to.

"You saw…"

"Yeah," Harm said. "I saw."

"Harm… It wasn't what it looked like."

He held up his hands, stopping her before she could go any further. "It's okay, Mac."

She looked at him, eyes wide. It couldn't be this easy – not when his eyes were so full of pain.

He glanced at the picture on her end table. It was a new one of the two of them together, and she watched him stare at it for a second before tearing his eyes away to look at her. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I don't want to be Mic Brumby, Mac."

She stared blankly at him. "What do you mean?"

"You were engaged to him, you said you loved him, and yet you kissed me that night at your engagement party." He said the words without inflection. "I have a very clear memory of you being engaged to somebody else and kissing me." He shrugged. "As I recall, that marriage never happened."

"You kissed me that night, as I recall."

Harm looked at her as though she'd just proven his point, and with a sinking feeling she realized she'd done exactly that. Today, Gunnar had been the one to kiss her, only this time she'd been engaged to Harm. The evidence was circumstantially damning, and she knew it.

"This was different, Harm."

"I'm not so sure it was."

She started to say something, but he raised a hand to stop her. "Look. I don't want to argue with you. I'm leaving in the morning. I won't be back until sometime Monday night, so you'll have the entire weekend to figure out what you want."

"I already know what I want, Harm." She fought to stem the rising tide of panic, struggling to keep her head above the water, but a tidal wave was looming on the horizon, and she wasn't sure she'd survive when it hit.

Harm moved to the door, opened it, and looked back at her, his eyes sad but determined. "Be sure, Mac."

She stood frozen in place, unable to fully believe what was happening. Words jockeyed for position in her head, but she couldn't seem to organize them into logical phrases. In the end, all she could do was stare at the door as it clicked shut behind him.

0130 Local
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

Mac sat on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest. She'd been sitting like this for hours, ever since she'd gotten home from all those wedding-related errands she'd had to take care of. In a way, she wasn't sure why she'd bothered. Harm had all but called off the wedding before he'd left, and yet she couldn't bring herself to cancel any of it. So she'd confirmed their order with the florist, gone over menu selections with the caterer, and dropped off the final payment for the band. She'd even had her final fitting at the bridal shop, trying to look like a happy woman while inside she felt as though her world was ending.

And now here she sat, forgotten packages scattered around her like lost sheep in a meadow. A half finished mug of tea, long cold, rested on the low table in front of her. She saw none of it. Instead, she stared sightlessly at the carpet while her mind churned that last conversation over and over, analyzing it from every direction until eventually the details had all the clarity of split pea soup.

At first, she'd been stunned by the conclusions Harm had drawn from what he'd seen. She loved him. Surely she'd proven that in the months following their ground-breaking trip to Seattle and Deception Pass. They'd been nearly inseparable ever since, spending so much time together that at times their decision to maintain separate apartments until after the wedding had seemed almost ludicrous. And then… this. It just didn't make any sense!

It had taken her most of the first twelve hours after he'd left just to begin to understand his thought processes. Harm, she was sure, would've remembered that she'd professed to love Mic – just as she now insisted that she loved him. He'd also be remembering the way he'd felt on the admiral's porch all those years ago when the emotion of the moment had pushed them into a kiss that had left them both reeling and uncertain about their relationships and their futures.

It wouldn't be much of a stretch for him to assume that she and Gunnar were experiencing the same emotions that she and Harm had way back then. For some reason, he was either unwilling or unable to believe that this situation could be any different from that one. All he could see, in his typical male fashion, was that she and Gunnar had been kissing. Apparently he'd allowed his overactive imagination to do the rest.

Okay. She sort of understood his thought processes now. She didn't like it, but she was pretty sure she understood it. The thing that she was still struggling with, the thing that had been causing her blood pressure to creep steadily upward as the day had progressed, was the fact that he hadn't fought for her. He'd simply turned around and left. She couldn't decide if he was playing the part of noble martyr or wronged lover, but neither option held much appeal.

Abruptly, she grabbed a pillow from the end of the couch and threw it across the room. It landed against the wall with a completely unsatisfying thud. She wrapped her arms around her knees again and glared at it, half expecting it to burst into flame with the force of her anger.

Damn the man. All those years. All the problems and miscommunications and wrong turns. She'd actually dared hope that they were finally getting somewhere, that they'd finally resolved most of their differences and were ready to begin a new life – together. And then this had to happen. It'd been nothing, really - a misunderstanding on Gunnar's part. She'd handled it. It was settled, and it certainly wouldn't be happening again. She loved Harm. She'd made that pretty clear to Gunnar, and she would've sworn she'd made it clear to Harm.

Evidently Harm hadn't gotten the message. The man obviously suffered from some sort of massive mental disconnect when it came to her. She seriously needed to look into having him rewired. In the meantime, he'd better come home with a flak jacket, because she had a thing or two to say to him, and if he wasn't careful hospitalization would be required.

0930 Local
USS Harry Truman
Somewhere in the Arabian Sea

Harm stared out over the water, oblivious to the dolphins that frolicked in the wake of the huge ship. At his back, the typical frenetic pace common to a ship at war went on without him. He had another interview scheduled in half an hour, but for now he was free to pursue the thoughts that had plagued him for the last two days. He wrapped his hands around the railing and leaned forward, supporting his weight on the rail as he stared down at the roiling seawater, its turbulence an exact mirror of his mental state.

Logically, he was certain he'd done the right thing in coming out here. Honor demanded that he give Mac plenty of space and time to sort out her feelings. It was obvious that Gunnar meant a lot to her, but he'd thought it was only friendship - until he'd seen them in the parking lot that day. His stomach clenched as the scene replayed in his mind for what must've been the millionth time.

It had been a beautiful afternoon, and he'd been planning to ask Mac if she wanted to take a walk along the river after work. He remembered that the radio had been on as he'd pulled into the parking lot. He couldn't remember the song, but he was pretty sure it had been something sappy and country – the type of music that always made Mattie roll her eyes. He'd been whistling along. The thought made his gut clench with irony. On the radio, somebody had been singing about forever love, while in front of him, he'd watched forever slip away on the afternoon breeze.

He shook his head sharply in a vain effort to clear the cobwebs. Between jetlag and his own muddled thoughts, he'd gone virtually without sleep since he'd arrived, and the cumulative effect was starting to break down the caffeine induced dam he'd erected against his emotions. Years of training and experience, along with gallons of coffee, had made it possible for him to lock his personal issues away long enough to conduct his interviews, but during his free time, when his defenses were down, thoughts of Mac chased their tails through his muddled brain - thoughts of Mac, and of Gunnar Thorsen.

He'd only met Gunnar one time, but it had been obvious even in that brief contact that he and Mac had shared something special. What was it she'd said later? Oh yeah. He was the best friend she'd had at U. Minn. Gunnar had been there for Mac during what must've been one of the most difficult periods of her life. She'd probably still been fighting the effects of her own alcohol addiction, as well as dealing with the guilt that accompanied Eddie’s horrible death. Add to that the stress of keeping up with her studies, and Harm knew Gunnar must have been a lifeline for her during a time when she'd desperately needed one.

He thought back to the scene in the parking lot again, shaking his head a little ruefully. Obviously, Gunnar had none of his own reticence about a relationship with Mac. He'd been so careful, for so long, that he'd almost missed his chance. Gunnar, on the other hand, had held Mac in a lover's embrace almost within hours of seeing her again. And most damning of all, both of them had been oblivious to their surroundings. Mac hadn't even known that Harm had been there until he'd told her himself.

He stared down at the dolphins, now racing each other back and forth across the ship's slowly moving bow, and wondered why Mac hadn't told Gunnar that she was engaged. He thought back. Surely she'd been wearing her engagement ring when they'd gone out to Blacksburg that day. As far as he knew, she never took it off. Then again, he was male enough to realize that it wasn't unlikely that Gunnar wouldn't have even noticed such a detail that day. They'd all had a lot on their minds, and he and Mac had only just met again after at least ten years apart. Gunnar and Mac's emotions would've been running high, and he knew from his own experience that strong feelings tended to negate an eye for detail.

That left their 'let's get reacquainted' dinner together. Surely Mac had worn her ring then, and yet - if she'd been wearing it, wouldn't Gunnar have noticed it? Wouldn't they have had a conversation? Surely in all their catch-up talk about the last ten years, Harm's name would've come up at least once…

The endless analysis kept leading him inexorably back to the same agonizing facts. Mac was engaged. Gunnar must have known Mac was engaged. And yet, despite that fact, Harm had stumbled upon them kissing. Had it been their first kiss? Had there been more the night before at the restaurant – or after? Had Gunnar's sudden reappearance in Mac's life made her regret a missed opportunity?

His hands tightened briefly around the gray steel before he shoved himself back with more energy than necessary - anger and frustration adding force to the motion. He spun on his heel, headed for a brisk walk back to his quarters, and almost tripped over the ensign who had approached him from behind. The young officer snapped to attention, eyes ahead, spine stiff.

"Commander Rabb! Sir! Sorry to disturb you, Sir!"

Harm squashed a twinge of nostalgia with a sigh. Had he ever been that young?

"What is it, Ensign?”

"Sir, Lieutenant Cagle is ready to meet with you."

Harm glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Good.

"Thank you, Ensign. I'm on my way."

He forced himself to turn his attention back to his work. He had a job to do, and he was damned if he was going to allow personal issues to get in the way.

*****  End Part Four  *****

 

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