Soaring Free
Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12
0800 Local Harm fought down a yawn as he entered the conference room. He was getting too old for this. He'd left Thursday morning and spent most of the day in transit, losing eight hours of his life somewhere along the way. Friday, Saturday, and most of Sunday had been taken up with fruitless interviews that led exactly nowhere, and he'd spent all day yesterday in transit again, trying to get home. He doubted he'd slept for more than eight hours total over the four-day period, and he was definitely feeling the loss. He took a seat at the table and sipped at his coffee while he glanced over his notes and waited for the rest of the staff to trickle in for the daily staff call. Mac came in behind him, seating herself quietly on the opposite side of the table. He'd been too tired last night to call her, and too confused to know what to say anyway. He nodded at her and received an icy dip of the chin in return. This was neither the time nor the place for a personal conversation, so he returned his attention to his notes, ignoring the curious looks from his coworkers and pretending to write busily while he waited for the meeting to begin. Seconds later, General Cresswell arrived, and professional duties forced personal concerns aside. "Commander? Any new developments on the Clark case?" Cresswell had turned to him after dispensing with the morning announcements. "I'm afraid not, sir. I spoke with everybody I could find who'd had any interaction at all with the captain during his last assignment. Nobody reported any unusual behavior, and all of them had only the highest praise for his work." "So where does that leave us?" Harm glanced across at Mac, eyebrows raised. She turned to the general. "The NTSB still intends to file this as a suicide unless we identify definitive evidence to the contrary." "And you don't agree that it was suicide – despite the evidence?" Harm spoke up. "No, Sir. We don't. Everything we've learned about Captain Clark points to his being a man of strength and character. His service record was impeccable; he had a wonderful family… We just can't imagine that a man like that would kill himself." The general leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "And yet we know that he'd only just that day received what amounted to a death sentence from his own physician." Harm looked across at Mac. This was the first he'd heard of that bit of news. She nodded slightly and he turned back to the general. "I still find it hard to believe, Sir." The general considered him for a few more seconds, and then nodded. "I understand your feelings, Commander, and I've learned to trust your instincts. You and Colonel MacKenzie have forty-eight hours to sort this out. If you don't find anything by then, the NTSB finding stands." Harm and Mac nodded. "Yes, Sir," they answered. General Cresswell nodded his head and shuffled the stack of folders that lay on the table in front of him. He flipped open the top one, scanned the single sheet of paper inside, and then closed it again. He looked around at his staff. They waited patiently, only the briefest flickers of curiosity belying their growing puzzlement at their CO's unexplained silence. "When I first became JAG," he said finally, "I made it a point to read through the service records of my new staff." He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each officer. "Some records proved more… entertaining, than most." His gaze settled on Harm. There were smiles and nods around the table, and Harm shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Where was the general going with this? "It seemed the commander has a penchant for getting himself into trouble and a flare for rather… unorthodox courtroom procedures." He paused, waiting for the chuckles to die down before going on. "Complicating my life even further was the fact that Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie had seen fit to get engaged right before the Change of Command – leaving me with the rather challenging task of deciding where to reassign an officer I didn't even know yet." Harm looked at Mac, wondering if his own curiosity would find an echo in her eyes, but she was watching the general, her expression neutral. "I put off making my choice for a long time. Both of you are excellent officers and a credit to this office. I didn't want to lose either one of you until it became absolutely necessary. However, it seems that fate has made my decision for me." He pulled a single sheet of paper out of the top folder and passed it across to Harm. "The untimely loss of Captain Clark and the sensitive nature of his work forced us to move quickly in locating a replacement for his position. It seems –" The general quirked an eyebrow at Harm. "– that you caught the eye of Admiral Reed when you met with him. He specifically requested you for the post." Harm blinked. Homeland Security? He'd never pictured himself there, but if it kept him in Washington, he was okay with it. "When you return from your honeymoon, you're to report to Admiral Reed at Homeland Security. Oh. And one more thing." He waited until Harm looked up from the orders. "The post is an O-6 billet. The selection committee reported out this morning. Congratulations, Captain Rabb." There was an audible gasp around the table, and Harm felt his pulse skip into overdrive. He'd known he was eligible for rank advancement, but with his record, he'd never expected to achieve the rank of captain. "Thank you, Sir." General Cresswell nodded. "You've earned it. Congratulations." The general seated himself and opened the next folder in the stack. "While we're on the subject of promotions…" He looked around the table, his eyes settling with some degree of curiosity on Mac's stony features. "Colonel MacKenzie. It appears that we're going to have an opening on the bench in about six months. I'm recommending you for the position." Harm sensed Mac's marginal relaxation as pleasure replaced some of the anger in her spine. "I'd be honored, General." General Cresswell nodded, satisfied, and moved on to other things. The rest of the meeting passed quickly. Harm had returned to his office and was sorting through files when the phone rang. "Commander Rabb." "Good morning, Commander. This is Paige Clark." Harm leaned forward in his chair, automatically pulling a legal pad toward him and picking up a pencil. "Mrs. Clark. Good morning." "They're saying my husband committed suicide," she said, wasting no time with social niceties. "They?" Harm asked, even though he already knew the answer. "The NTSB people." "Did they say whether they'd filed their report yet?" "No." There was a pause, and he heard her take a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was calm. "Commander, my husband was upset after seeing his doctor that morning, but he wasn't suicidal." "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I have to ask this. How can you be sure?" "He was my husband." She said it as though it were all the explanation he should need, and Harm wished it was. "Ma'am…" "Paige." "All right. Paige. Captain Clark wouldn't be the first husband to consider suicide as a means of protecting his family from the ravages of a terminal illness." She was silent, and Harm began to wonder if his blunt approach had been the wrong choice. He was about to apologize when she spoke. "You don't understand, Commander. Terry and I… We were more than just husband and wife. We were best friends - soul mates, if you'll pardon the rather overused expression. We didn't keep anything from each other – ever." "But you'd never faced this particular situation before." "Not entirely true." There was another pause. He heard Audrey's small voice in the background. "One moment, Commander." There was a whispered conversation, and then Paige was back. "I'm sorry, Commander. Audrey needs a snack. I'll be with you as soon as I get her settled in the other room." "No problem." He listened to the vague sounds that drifted over the line – a cabinet door clicked shut, paper rustled, water ran briefly. There was a burst of noise from what sounded like a television, more quiet conversation, and then silence. Harm assumed Paige had closed a door between herself and her daughter. Paige came back on the line. "Are you still there?" "I'm here." He heard the remembered pain in her voice when she continued. "A year and a half before Audrey was born my father committed suicide. Terry was with me when I found him." "Paige…" "Forget it," she interrupted. "I'm not telling you this because I want your sympathy. I'm telling you so that you can understand. Commander, my father's death nearly ruined my family. Mom died of a stroke less than six months later. His death destroyed her will to live. My brother had argued with Dad about something stupid earlier in the day, and he still blames himself for what happened." There was silence on the line again. Harm couldn't decide what to say to her that wouldn't sound trite, so he just waited for her to go on. She finally did. "Commander. I was the one who'd gone to the pharmacy to fill his prescription for him. I was the one who handed him the bottle of pills. I was also the one who found him with the empty bottle still clutched in his hand." "Paige… I'm sorry." She continued as though she hadn't heard him. "Terry saved me, Commander. I struggled with guilt and depression for months after Dad died, but Terry stayed by my side through all of it. He listened when I needed him to listen. He held me when I needed to cry. Never once did he try to tell me that what I was feeling was wrong. He just… accepted it. He was my strength, my one connection to reality that never broke, never weakened. When Audrey was born, it was like… I don't know… I guess it was sort of like my father was reminding me that life, with all its beauty and pain, was still worth living. " "Paige… I don't know what to say." "You don't have to say anything, Commander. You just need to understand. My husband would never commit suicide. He'd have known what it would do to me." "I hear what you're saying, and I'll do my best, but I can't promise it'll sway the final decision." Paige took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her voice had steadied. "Your best is all I ask, Commander. Just don't give up on my husband. Please." "We won't." There's one more thing I wanted to talk to you about." "What's that?" "I was going through some files last week and found some more information about Terry's plane. It's just one page with a list of modifications he and Jack made when they built it. Might it be helpful to you?" "It might. Can you fax it over?" "I'll do that now. And Commander?" "Yes?" "Thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt." "You're welcome." They said their goodbyes, and Harm hung up the phone. He was staring thoughtfully at the handset when Mac cleared her throat. "Meditating?" She asked from her spot in the doorway. "Something like that." He attempted a smile, but gave up when he noted her lack of response. "That was Paige Clark." "And?" "And she swears her husband would never commit suicide," he said. Mac was unimpressed. "She was his wife. Of course she'd say that." Harm considered her thoughtfully. "Would you?" She stared blankly at him. "Would I what?" "If it were me, would you believe it?" She shuddered. "I've thought a lot of things about you during this past weekend, but I didn't think about your death – nor do I wish to." She stared hard at him, her arms folded across her chest. "We need to talk." "You know," he said, "I'm starting to hate that phrase." "Join the club." He sighed. "Tonight?" She nodded. "My place." "1900 hours?" "Works for me." He nodded, then stood and moved to the doorway. "Before you go back to your office, walk with me to the fax machine. Paige is sending something over that might prove useful." The single sheet had just finished printing when they arrived, and Harm picked it up, scanning it quickly before handing it to Mac. "You might want to fax a copy of this to Gunnar," he said. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why?" "It's a list of changes they made to Captain Clark's plane. Maybe there's a clue here someplace." "Harm. You know they aren't interested in pursuing the case any further. They're –" He shrugged. "I know. But I'm thinking maybe you can convince them otherwise." He walked away before she could fire off the snappy response he'd seen flash in her eyes. 1900 Local She felt her back stiffen when the knock sounded. It was him, and it was time to deal with the elephant that had been shadowing them all day long. They were both too professional to allow their personal issues to effect their work, but they were on personal time now, and it was time to either tame the elephant or euthanize it. She opened the door and waved him in, neither offering a hug, nor surprised when he didn't attempt to touch her. He moved to the couch, but didn't sit. Instead, he turned to face her, waiting while she closed the door. She looked at him, fighting the urge to fold her arms protectively across her chest. "Have you made a decision?" he asked quietly. "What the hell am I supposed to decide?" She was spoiling for a fight, and though she kept her voice down, she knew the tone of her words communicated her anger clearly enough. "Do you still want to marry me?" He said the words slowly, as though making them clear to a child. She shook her head in disappointment. "After all these years. After everything we've been through. We finally find our way to each other, and at the first sign of trouble you turn martyr and we're right back where we started." "Martyr?" She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. "It's that 'fall on your sword in the name of honor' routine you do so well. He kissed me, Harm. That's all it was. A kiss. We weren't making passionate love in the parking lot." "From what I saw, you weren't far from it." Mac remembered the way Gunnar had held her in his arms, and realized how it must have looked to Harm. She shook off a twinge of guilt. "So that's it? You're just going to let me go?" He nodded. "If it's truly what you want, yes." "Damn you, Harm." The words hovered in the air between them, and the room settled into frigid silence. Each waited for the other to make the next move. Both knew that a wrong step now could result in disaster. "Did he know that you're engaged?" Harm asked finally. "Yes." "To me?" "Not when he kissed me, no." "But he does now." "Yes." "So you didn't tell him when you went out to dinner." She shrugged a shoulder. "It didn't come up." "It didn't come up," he echoed in disbelief. "That's right." "Let me get this straight. You and I have worked together for nine years. We're to be married in a few days. And yet somehow my name 'didn't come up'?" "That's right." "I see." There was something of resignation in the way he looked at her and her explanation rushed out before she could bite it off. "Harm. We had years’ worth of catching up to do." "I'm sure you did." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "You think I cheated on you?" Anger flooded her words. "You have so little faith in me… in us… that you see an innocent kiss and assume the worst. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your faith in me." "Oh, I have faith. I have faith in your inability to say no to any man who pays you a compliment. You always were a sucker for charm." He caught her hand in mid-slap, and for a long moment they glared at each other. Mac seriously considered putting some of her combat training to good use, then thought better of it and wrenched her arm away. "You've got a lot of nerve," she said. "I may be a 'sucker for charm' as you so tactfully put it, but I've never seen you turn down a damsel in distress." She pivoted on her heel and moved away - completely oblivious to the pain in his eyes - aware only of her own. "You know what?" he asked bitterly. "I've finally figured out what it was that kept us apart for so long." "Oh? Do tell." She wasn't really sure she wanted to hear what he was about to say, but she was damned if she was going to tell him that. "You weren't looking for a partner," he said. "You wanted somebody who would sit obediently at your feet, anxious to satisfy your every whim." "And you only wanted somebody to rescue." She looked at him with bitter comprehension. "That's what Paraguay was all about, wasn't it? It wasn't that you were worried about me. It was white knight syndrome." She shook her head, speaking the next words so softly that he almost didn't hear them. "I should've known." "You just go right ahead and make your assumptions, Mac. It's what you're best at." "What's that supposed to mean?" "You assumed I didn't want you in Australia. You assumed I didn't want you after Renee's father died. You're assuming now that the reason I came to Paraguay was to rescue you." He shrugged. "Like I said. It's what you do best." "And you're assuming that I'm in love with Gunnar," she said. "Are you?" "Go to hell." "Already there, Mac." His voice was bleak, and he turned away from her to walk over to the window. Silence enveloped the room in a suffocating blanket. Mac felt it pushing down on her, squeezing the air from her lungs. She shivered, suddenly and inexplicably cold. They were days away from a wedding, but light years away from each other. She shook her head. This wasn't going to happen. She wasn't going to let Gunnar and her past destroy the one thing that meant more to her than life itself. She moved across the room, ignoring his flinch when she placed her hand on his arm. "Look," she said quietly. "That kiss took me completely by surprise. I didn't initiate it, didn't participate in it…" She thought she heard him snort softly, and she snapped her eyes to his face. His expression was unreadable. "But you didn't fight it, either." His voice was low. "I was too startled to fight it. Harm, I never guessed Gunnar would try something like that with me. We were always friends. Good friends, yes. But still just friends." "You and Webb were friends, too." She tensed. "Clay has nothing to do with this." "When you left for Paraguay, you and Webb were two friends working an assignment. By the time we got home, you were a couple." "And your point?" Harm considered her for a moment, and she wondered if he was weighing the outcome of his next words. He finally shrugged one shoulder and looked away. "It doesn't seem to take much for you to fall in love." "Oh?" She was angry again. "And what about you? Annie? Renee? Jordan?" "I never told any of them that I loved them." "Low blow, Harm." "Maybe." Mac dropped her hand from his arm. "I guess that's all there is to say." She walked away from him again, breathing deeply in an attempt to control her temper. The man was impossibly stubborn. How could she hope to make him see that what she felt for him went so far beyond what she'd ever felt for any other man, that comparing the experiences was like comparing sunshine to candlelight? She heard his sudden soft curse and then the sound of his footsteps crossing the floor, his strides long and angry. He gripped her arm and whirled her around to face him. “Do you want me to beg?” he demanded hotly. “Is that what you’re after? Am I supposed to grovel?” She planted her hands on his chest and shoved him away. “I want you to fight, damn it! For once in your life, stand and fight for what you want!” Suddenly she was in his arms; his mouth crashing down on hers as he took what was his, what would only ever be his. She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around him, pushing her body as close to his reassuring strength as she possibly could. "You mean like this?" He murmured roughly between kisses. "Is this what you wanted?" He nibbled the ridge of her jaw, and anger exploded into burning desire. The aching need made her arch her back, her hips meeting the hard thrust of his. "Yes." Love, desire, agreement, impatience – all of these and more flew from her lips to his ears on the back of the single whispered syllable. He pulled away from her slightly, enough to be able to look into her eyes, but not so much that she could have any thought of escape – not that she particularly wanted to escape at the moment. "You're mine, Mac. You'll always be mine." "Always," she nodded. "You'd better warn him to keep his distance, because I'm done with polite." "I already did." Harm quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?" She nodded, smiled, and pulled his head down to hers. 1023 Local Mac's phone rang, and she used her index finger to mark her place in the document she'd been reading while she reached to pick up the handset. "Colonel MacKenzie." "Mac? It's Gunnar." Mac relaxed into her chair with a smile. "Thor. Hi." "Have you and Commander Rabb had a chance to go over that paperwork you faxed us yesterday?" "I haven't, but maybe Harm has. I'd have to ask him. Why? Did you find something?" "Maybe. Something about one of the changes they made to the aircraft design bothers me. It has to do with the fuel tanks." Mac shook her head. "You really need to talk to Harm about that. He knows more about small aircraft than I could ever hope to." She glanced at her open office door and the busy bullpen beyond. "Gunnar? Can I put you on hold for a second?" "Of course." Mac pressed the button on her phone and then moved around her desk. She closed the door and returned to her chair, picking up the handset and hitting the hold button as she sat down. "Still there? "Absolutely." "Remember the other day when I came to see you for that meeting?" "When you talked me into giving you and Commander Rabb another week to look into Captain Clark's case?" "That's right." "Are you wondering if we're giving you that week? We are. Ed thinks I've lost my mind, but you've got your time." "No. That isn't what I needed to talk to you about." "Oh? What then?" "Harm saw us." There was a moment of silence while her words sank in. "Oh no…." "Oh yes." "I'm guessing he wasn't happy?" "Not exactly," Mac said sardonically. "He didn't call off the wedding, did he?" "Not quite." "Are you two okay? Do you want me to talk to him?" Mac smiled a little at that. "Not you, too." "Excuse me?" He sounded completely clueless, and Mac shook her head in amused resignation. "Why is it that men always feel the need to rush to my defense?" she asked rhetorically. "I handled it on my own, thanks. We're okay. I just thought you should know." "Should I wear full body armor the next time I see him?" "Might not be a bad idea." Mac grinned at the mental image, and she heard Gunnar chuckle on the other end of the line. "Note to self," he said. "Invest in chain mail." Mac was laughing when she heard a knock on her door. She glanced up and waved Harm inside. "Gunnar? Listen. I have to go." "No problem. Let me know what the commander says." "Will do. Talk to you later." "Bye, Mac." She hung up the phone and looked up. "Hey," she said. "What's up?" "I just finished going over this paperwork that Paige sent over yesterday. Have you had a chance to look at it?" "You too?" "Huh?" She waved a hand at the phone. "That's what Gunnar was calling about. He said he'd found something odd and wanted to know if we'd gone over the documentation yet." "That was Gunnar you were talking to?" He stepped inside and sat down across from her. "Did he tell you what the 'something odd' was?" She shrugged a shoulder. "I didn't really let him. I told him he should talk to you. All I got was that it had something to do with the fuel tanks." Harm nodded. "Sounds like the same thing I was wondering about. Did you two set up a meeting?" "No. It didn't make sense until I'd had a chance to talk to you." "I'll call him. I need to talk to him anyway." Mac looked at him suspiciously. "You aren't going to do anything stupid, are you?" "Me?" He did his best to look innocent, but Mac wasn't buying it. "Harm…" He raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'll be nice, Mac." She smiled. "That's all I ask." "Just don't expect me to like it." He winked at her on his way out the door. She snorted something rude in reply, and heard him chuckle as he walked away. Mac bent her head to the papers on her desk. Frank and Trish were due in tonight, and she was determined not to carry a briefcase full of files home with her. ******** Harm closed his door and sat down behind his desk. He didn't want his conversation with Gunnar to be overheard by any of the dozens of curious ears that floated around JAG Ops on any given day. He slid the NTSB business card from beneath his desk blotter and reached for the phone. "National Transportation Safety Board, Aeronautics Division. How may I direct your call?" The receptionist sounded young and friendly. Harm asked for Gunnar's office and listened to canned music while the line was transferred. He found it interesting that Gunnar didn't have a direct line. Budget woes, probably. "Gunnar Thorsen here." "Mr. Thorsen." Harm chose the formal approach. Gunnar was Mac's friend, not his. "This is Commander Rabb at JAG." There was a slight hesitation on the other end of the line before Gunnar cleared his throat. "Commander Rabb. I've been expecting your call." "Colonel MacKenzie tells me you've found something troubling about Captain Clark's aircraft?" "One moment please, while I pull out the file." There was a rustle of papers, and then Gunnar came back on the line. "Did you know that Ashburn Aviation modified the original design of Captain Clark's Long EZ?" "I was aware that there had been some changes, yes. Are you referring to the fuel selector switch, by any chance?" "That's right. According to this, the original design for this craft had the fuel selector switch on the front instrument panel." There was a pause and then, "Are you with me so far, Commander?" Harm stifled the urge to make a rude reply and settled for a simple, "Yes." "Okay. Now. According to this information from Ashburn, Captain Clark requested that the switch be moved." "That's right," Harm was looking through the documentation himself as they spoke. "In a way, the idea's ingenious." "How do you figure?" "By putting the switch where they did, they didn't have to run fuel lines through the passenger side of the plane - less of a fire hazard that way." "True, but in order to flip the switch, the Captain would've had to reach behind his left shoulder – an awkward move at best." "Do you know what steps he took to verify his fuel levels before taking off? If he had access to a full tank, he wouldn't have had to switch it." There was more rustling of paper, then, "I don't see any mention of fuel levels in my notes. We'd need to go back out and talk to the people at the airfield." "How about this," Harm said. "Why don't we get in touch with Jack Stone and Paige Clark and have them meet us out at Ashburn tomorrow afternoon. Jack would know about the design alterations, and Paige was with the captain when he preflighted his plane. Maybe we can get a handle on this thing once and for all." "Understood. My partner won't keep the case open beyond the end of the week anyway." There was a pause, and then an uneasy, "Mac tells me your wedding is this weekend." "Saturday night." Harm clipped his words. The effort at polite conversation was beginning to wear on him. "Commander… I owe you an apology." Harm didn't answer and the silence grew, coiling between them with ugly intent. "You should know that what you saw that day was entirely my fault," Gunnar said finally. "I knew Mac was engaged." "If you knew that," Harm asked, "then why did you do it?" "I've never known another woman like her, Commander. She's so beautiful - so strong and sure, yet with a hint of vulnerability that I never could resist," Gunnar said. "I've been in love with her for a very long time." "An honorable man doesn't kiss a woman who's engaged to another man." Icy fingers of guilt tickled the back of his neck, but Harm stubbornly ignored them. "You're right. And I apologize. I just wanted you to know, for the record, that Mac didn't participate. Please don't be angry with her for something that wasn't her fault." Harm hesitated, wondering just how much to say at this point. Finally, he sighed. "Look. Mac and I - it took a lot of years and a lot of mistakes before we were able to find our way to each other. She's everything to me, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy. If I thought that meant stepping aside for another man, I'd do it in a heartbeat." "No -" "Let me finish," Harm interrupted. "Mac assures me that this isn't the case, that you took unexpected advantage of your friendship with her and that she set you straight." "She did." "She's told me that you were her best friend in college - that you helped her to get through a very dark time in her life. If you hadn't been there for her then, she probably wouldn't be the woman she is today, and for that, I'm grateful to you. As far as I'm concerned, this incident is closed." Harm heard an audible sigh of relief from the other man. He glanced at his door, instinct telling him to make sure it was firmly closed before he continued. "But if you ever so much as twitch in her direction again I'll make sure you live just long enough to regret it." Gunnar laughed uneasily. "Understood." "Now," Harm said, deliberately changing the subject. "Mac and I will see about setting up this meeting for tomorrow. Does 1430 work for you?" "Sure. Just call and confirm after you've got everybody else on board." "One of us will." "Sounds good. We'll see you at Ashburn tomorrow afternoon. " "See you then." Harm disconnected the line and sat back in his chair with a sigh. He had firsthand experience with what Gunnar was going through, which made it a little easier to understand. He'd been there himself at Mac's engagement party all those years ago. Still, though he loved and trusted Mac, and though he was sure she returned his feelings, their relationship had a ways to go before it could withstand repeated doses of men like Gunnar Thorsen.
***** End Part Five *****
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