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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. Author's Note: This story is loosely based on an actual event out of history. Chalk up any inaccuracies to creative license. If you want to know the facts of what happened, try an Internet search for the "Ax Murder Incident." (Now, if that doesn’t make you just the tiniest bit curious, I don’t know what will. <grin>) Acknowledgements: Once again, you have Captain to thank for this story. If she hadn’t stayed on my case (for hours on end), and provided boundless technical and creative advice, I doubt I ever would have finished it. Also, many thanks to Aerogirl for wading through another of my epics with her virtual red pen. Summary: A routine assignment nearly starts a war.
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2300 Zulu (1800 Local) Camp Liberty Bell South Korea
The room was simple, unadorned save for the faded maps that hung on one wall. Bathed in the artificial rays of recessed fluorescent lights, an ancient wooden desk struggled for dignity, losing the battle to the sleekly modern flat screen computer monitor that stood proudly on one corner. Next to the monitor, a middle aged brunette and two teenagers smiled out of a simple wooden frame. The only other items on the desk were a worn blotter, a single thick folder unopened on its top, and an old soup can filled with mismatched pens and pint sized pencils. Behind the desk, an elderly chair creaked a protest as the man sitting in it leaned forward, his attention focused on the images and text displayed on his screen. A knock on the door distracted him, and he looked up impatiently. "Enter!" The door opened, and an officer entered, coming to attention in front of the massive desk. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie reporting for duty as ordered, Sir." "Welcome to Camp Liberty Bell, Colonel. Have a seat." Brigadier General Singleton opened the file on his desk and glanced through Mac’s service record. "This your first visit to the DMZ, Colonel?" he asked, his green eyes sharp and inquisitive. "Yes, Sir." "I hope your stay with us will be a pleasant one." He closed the folder and set it aside. "As you are no doubt aware, you’ve been assigned to this base TAD while our permanent JAG officer is away on temporary leave." "Yes, Sir. Admiral Chegwidden informed me of the circumstances of the assignment." "Good. Now, I know you’ve only just arrived on base, and ordinarily I’d give you some time to settle in, but as it happens, we’ve had a situation arise today that requires your immediate attention." He sat back in his chair. "It’s about a tree, actually." "A tree, Sir?" Mac’s clearly puzzled expression seemed to amuse the general for a moment, and then he turned serious again. "You’ll find that nothing that happens here is insignificant, Colonel." He stood up, moving to the map on the wall. "This particular tree stands near the Bridge of No Return. Are you familiar with the history?" "Yes, Sir. At the end of the Korean conflict, prisoners of war were given a choice – return to North Korea and their homeland, or stay in the south forever. Many chose to stay, but those who wanted to return were repatriated across the bridge." General Singleton nodded. "I’m sure you’re aware, then, that there’s a North Korean observation post located just on the other side of the bridge?" He pointed at the map. "Here?" "Yes, Sir." "We have two observation posts on our side. Here." He pointed again. "And here. It just so happens that this tree blocks the line of sight between them. We need to prune it for security reasons." "And the problem, Sir?" "Well, apparently, the North Koreans don’t approve of our landscaping plans. We sent a civilian work crew out there this afternoon, and things got a little heated. The KPA soldiers made some threats. The crew was small, so they decided to come back to base and await further instructions. That’s where you come in." "Sir?" "I need you to find out what our legal standing is here. That tree has to be trimmed. It can’t be allowed to continue to block our line of sight. Unfortunately, it stands in a bit of a no man’s land, and the North Koreans seem rather fond of it. What do you suggest?" "I’ll need time to do some research, Sir." "You’ve got two hours." He picked up the phone and spoke a few words, then looked back up at her. "Captain Belzer will show you the layout and fill you in on the details." There was a knock, and at Singleton’s brusque command, the door opened. A slightly built man in BDU's stepped inside and closed the door before coming to attention. "Belzer. This is Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie. She’s replacing Major Nilsson for a while." The dark haired captain nodded politely at Mac, and Singleton went on. "Normally, I’d have the First Sergeant give you the grand tour, Colonel, but Captain Belzer was there this morning. He can answer whatever questions you have about what happened." He looked at the captain. "Belzer, show her around, bring her up to speed. But make it snappy." "Yes, Sir." Mac stood and came to attention. "Dismissed." The junior officers left Singletons’ office, and Belzer led her to a nearby jeep. A quick drive around the small base was followed by a trip out to the Joint Security Area (JSA). Mac paid close attention to the two observation towers and the beautiful but problematic Poplar tree that separated them. She noted the tree’s proximity to the Bridge of No Return and the simple white building on the other side of the worn crossing. There were no traffic sounds here. No rush and hurry. No sounds of marching feet or voices raised in military cadence. Birdsong floated on the soft evening breeze, cooling the summer-hot air as the sun drifted closer to the horizon. The scene should have been idyllic, but Mac knew that behind those small windows were heavily armed North Korean soldiers scrutinizing her every move. The thought made her skin crawl, and she completed her notes quickly while she listened to Captain Belzer. He told her how the small group of five, three workmen and two guards, had approached the tree for what should have been a routine assignment. They had set up a ladder, and one of the workmen climbed up with a small saw and began to work. They had cut down the first branch when a number of KPA guards began yelling at them from the bridge. The soldiers waved their weapons threateningly, their voices loud with anger. "I wasn’t sure how far they would go, so I called off the men and we packed up our gear." Belzer glared across the bridge at the small hut before turning back to Mac. "Those guards acted like they were ready to fire on us, Ma’am. They were across the bridge, technically outside the JSA, so those weapons were totally legal. But because the Armistice Agreement dictates that nobody inside the Joint Security Area can be armed, we didn’t have anything but a couple of hand saws and a hatchet to defend ourselves with. We wouldn’t have had a chance against them, Colonel." "I understand, Captain. Under the circumstances, you did the right thing." When they had finished, Captain Belzer dropped her off at the VOQ, and Mac grabbed her computer, a legal pad, and some pens before heading for the small base library. As she walked, she flipped open her cell phone and quickly punched in a series of numbers. "Bud? This is Mac." "Colonel! How’s life in the DMZ?" "Hot. Listen. I need you to do something for me." "Just a sec, let me grab a pen." There was a startling crash, and Mac reflexively pulled the phone away from her ear. She heard a muffled curse, and then Bud’s voice came back on the line. "Sorry, Ma’am. Dropped a book." "You ok?" "Yes. Missed my foot by a hair, but I’m fine. What did you need me to look up?" Mac explained the situation and asked Bud to get back to her within the next half hour. He said he’d do his best, and they hung up just as she arrived at the library. Seating herself at an empty table, she set up her laptop and plugged it into the Internet access outlet at her feet. Within moments, she was making notes on her legal pad. Her concentration on her work was so intense that she jumped when her cell phone rang. She answered it quickly, ignoring the glares sent her way by other library patrons. "Bud?" "No. Harm." "Oh. Hi." "Sorry to disappoint you." He said it with a smile in his voice, and Mac knew he wasn’t offended. The corners of her mouth turned up and she relaxed back into her chair. It was good to hear a friendly voice. "I’m sorry. Guess I’m a little distracted. I got dropped in the middle of a minor crisis and I’m kind of in a time crunch. I was expecting Bud to call with some answers to a couple of questions." "Anything I can help with?" "Not unless you know something about horticulture." "Horticulture?" "Never mind. I’ll tell you later. What did you need?" "I was looking for a deposition on the Klisky case. From the seaman who stood watch that night. Harris. Have you seen it?" "Yes. I gave it to you before I left. Should be in the file. If you can’t find it, I think I still have it on my hard drive." "Hang on a second. Let me check again. I just went through this, but you never know…" Mac waited while papers rustled in the background. She scanned her computer screen and jotted another note. "Oh. Wait a minute. Here it is. It got mixed in with the autopsy report. Must have missed it my first time through. Sorry about that." "No problem. I’d better run. I’m expecting Bud’s call." "Sure thing. Take care, Marine." "You, too." They hung up, and Mac switched her phone over to silent mode before putting it away and getting back to work. She was becoming increasingly frustrated. She knew Singleton wanted cold hard facts, but there just wasn’t a lot of international law that covered tree trimming. She glared at her computer screen, willing it to cooperate, and reached out to type in a new search string, hitting the enter key just as her phone signaled another incoming call. "Mackenzie." "It’s Bud, Ma’am." "Bud. Any luck?" "Not much. Just a couple of items." "I was afraid of that." Mac sighed. "Give me whatever you’ve got, Bud. I’m ready." Mac wrote quickly while Bud talked, then she thanked him and hung up. A few minutes later, she was ushered back into Singleton’s small office, and found herself once again standing at attention. She wondered irrelevantly if her entire stay here was going to be this high paced. "Well?" Singleton was obviously impatient to hear her findings. "Well, Sir, I’m afraid there’s not much case law directly on point here." "Colonel, I don’t want to hear what you don’t know." "Yes, Sir. As I said, I have been unable to locate any information directly on point. However, you do have the legal right to take whatever actions are necessary to protect your citizens. That tree prevents you from adequately insuring the safety of your men during their ordinary course of duty. Therefore, it is my opinion that you do have the right to trim it." "Thank you, Colonel. That will be all." "Yes, Sir." Mac left the office, but before the door closed, Singleton called her back. "Colonel?" "Yes, Sir?" "I’m sending out another work crew tomorrow morning. I want you out there with them. If there are any difficulties, you need to be on site to provide legal advice." "Yes, Sir." "Report at ten hundred hours. We’ll get this over with. You’re dismissed." Mac returned to her room and collapsed on the bed. Barely here for half a day, and already in the thick of things. It was going to be a long month.
0130 Zulu (1030 Local) Camp Liberty Bell South Korea
Mac looked around. There were fifteen of them all together. Five formed the civilian work crew that would do the actual trimming. The other ten, Mac included, were going along to provide security. She shook her head. Even with her knowledge of military history, and even understanding the shaky situation on the DMZ, she found it somewhat unbelievable that it took a force of fifteen to trim a single tree. She returned Captain Belzer’s salute and smiled as he approached her. Like her, he was dressed in BDU's, but neither carried a weapon. They were entering neutral territory, and weapons were not allowed. "You ready?" he asked. "Sure am." "We’ll be moving out in just a minute." He gestured toward a nearby officer who was talking to a nervous looking private. "Lieutenant Harrison over there is my second in command. I’d appreciate it if you’d stay close to one of us during this little outing. That way, if there’s a problem, I won’t have to hunt you down to hear your thoughts." "No problem," answered Mac. "Hopefully, this will go off without a hitch," he said. "But if there’s one thing I’ve learned during my time here, it’s that anything can happen. Be on your guard, and expect the unexpected." "Will do," Mac answered, confident that her combat training would keep her safe. Captain Belzer turned around and surveyed the rest of their group. "Move out!" he ordered, and everybody piled into the vehicle for the short trip to the Bridge of No Return.
0530 ZULU (0030 Local) 2812 M Street, Apartment 4 Washington, DC.
Harm’s telephone rang, waking him out of a deep sleep. He flipped on the light and reached for the handset, instantly alert. Good news never came at this hour of the night. He was right. "Rabb." "Commander Harmon Rabb, Junior?" "Yes." "I’m calling from the 121st Military Hospital in Seoul, South Korea. Our documentation indicates that you hold the medical power of attorney for…" There was a pause and a rustle of paper. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. Is this accurate?" Harm’s blood ran cold. There could only be one reason for this call, and he really didn’t want to hear it. With an effort, he forced his voice past the sudden constriction in his throat. "That’s correct." "Sir, I’m sorry to have to tell you this. The colonel was seriously injured this morning in an incident in the DMZ. She was flown here by medevac and arrived about ninety minutes ago. The colonel’s paperwork includes a DNR order. Since she lists you as having her medical power of attorney, we need to confirm her wishes with you." "Wait! What happened? How seriously is she hurt?" Harm’s mind was racing with questions as he stepped into his pants, quickly pulling them up and zipping while he held the phone against his shoulder. "Sir, I understand your concern, but time is critical here. The colonel received multiple blunt force injuries that nearly killed her in the field. We’ve had to scramble just to keep her alive. She’s stable for the moment, but should her condition deteriorate, we need to know her wishes." Harm’s training finally kicked in, and he forced himself to slow his breathing. He’d be no good to Mac if he lost control of the situation now. When he spoke again, his voice was calm and firm. "Do whatever’s necessary to keep her alive until I can get there. I’ll talk with the physicians and make any necessary decisions at that time." "Yes, Sir. Do you have any idea when that will be?" "Just as quickly as I can make the arrangements. Who’s taking care of her?" "Her attending physician is Dr. Lee. He’s with her right now. If you would like, I can have him contact you when he is available." "Thank you. Let me give you my cell phone number." Harm reeled off the numbers and then jotted down the hospital’s number before hanging up. He quickly finished dressing, dialing the admiral’s number from memory as he pulled on shoes and socks. "Chegwidden." The admiral’s voice, rough with sleep and irritation, let Harm know that their commanding officer was unaware of what had happened. "Sir, it’s Commander Rabb." "Rabb! You’d better have a damned good reason for waking me up from the first decent night’s sleep I’ve had all week." "I apologize, Sir, but something’s happened." "Well…spit it out." "I just got a call from a hospital in Seoul. Apparently Mac’s been hurt in some sort of incident with the North Koreans." "Are you sure about that?" The admiral suddenly sounded wide awake, and Harm suspected he was on his feet. "Yes, Sir. Apparently her injuries are serious. They called to confirm the DNR request in her medical records." "Damn." "Sir, I need to get over there." "Not just yet you don’t. Meet me at headquarters in thirty minutes. Let’s find out what the hell happened before you go chasing off into the sunset again." "Yes, Sir." They ended the call, and Harm grabbed a light jacket before turning off the lights and locking the door behind him. In a few strides, he reached the next apartment, where he pounded insistently on the door until a sleepy Jennifer Coates finally called out from inside. "Who is it?" "Jen, it’s Commander Rabb. I need to talk to you and Mattie for a minute." "Just a second." Coates had sounded drowsy when he first heard her voice, but by the time she opened the door, tugging a pale blue bathrobe close about her waist, she was wide awake. Mattie, her hair tousled and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, was just coming out of the bedroom. "What’s going on?" "Mattie, something’s come up," said Harm. "You and Jennifer had better sit down." The girls looked alarmed, but did as he asked. "I just got a telephone call from a hospital in Seoul. Mac’s been hurt." "What happened?" asked Jennifer, immediately concerned. "I’m not sure yet. All I know is that somehow the North Koreans were involved. Her condition is critical. I’m going over to headquarters now to meet with the admiral and try to find out what’s going on." He stopped, hesitant to ask his next question. Jennifer beat him to it. "You’ll probably need to go over there. I’ll look after Mattie for you." "Are you sure? I don’t want to impose. I might be able to ask Bud and Harriet…" "I’m sure. You do what you need to do. Mattie and I will be fine." "Thanks," said Harm gratefully. "Listen, I hate to drop this on you and run, but I need to get over to headquarters. I’ll keep you posted." He stood and gathered Mattie for a quick hug before turning to go. "I’m sure the colonel will be fine. She’s a fighter," said Jen, offering what small bit of comfort she could. "I hope you’re right," he answered, then turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him. Harm made it to JAG headquarters in record time, but the admiral was there ahead of him. He motioned Harm into his office without pausing his telephone conversation. A.J.’s side consisted mostly of "Yes, Sir" and "No, Sir," and Harm grew increasingly frustrated as he paced the floor. Finally, the call ended, and the admiral hung up. "Sit down before you wear a hole in my carpet," he said, but his voice held little of its usual gruff command. Harm sat on the edge of a chair, ready to spring into action the moment he figured out what that action should be. "O.K., here’s what I know. A few days ago, General Singleton detailed a crew to trim a poplar tree that was obstructing the line of sight between Observation Posts 3 and 5 near the Bridge of No Return. No big deal. Work details of this type are pretty common. The crew went out and began their work, only to be ordered to stop by the North Korean guards. Not sure what to do, they returned to base for instructions." A.J. paused to pick up his remote control and turn on the TV, tuning it to a news channel and lowering the sound before he went on. "When Mac arrived, base command requested her legal opinion. Mac told them there was no legal reason why they could not trim the tree as a means of insuring the continued safety of the men. This morning, at approximately 10:30 local time, a crew that consisted of five civilian workers and a security force of ten, including Mac, made another attempt to trim the tree. The details on what happened next are a little vague, but it appears that they were attacked by a group of about thirty KPA soldiers with axe handles, clubs and knives." Harm tensed, imagining the gruesome scene and the desperate fight that must have ensued. The admiral watched him, hating what came next, but aware that Harm needed to know all of it. "Two members of the group, including the captain and lieutenant in command of the operation, died before they could get medical attention. Eight others, including Mac, were transported by medevac to the hospital in Seoul. Their conditions range from serious to critical." He watched Harm, well aware of the turmoil raging inside the younger man. However confused and bizarre the relationship was between his two top attorneys, A.J. knew that Harm cared deeply for Mac. Hell, they all did. The colonel had been a part of all of their lives for almost eight years. A.J. considered his options. He knew Harm would want to go to Seoul to be with Mac, but with Sturgis on board a carrier somewhere in the Adriatic Sea, that would leave him short three officers. And, just to complicate things even further, he still needed somebody at Camp Liberty Bell to provide on-site legal guidance during the rapidly escalating crisis. He could go himself, but that would leave him out of communication with the SecNav for the duration of his travel, and under the circumstances, that was a really bad idea. There was really only one solution to this dilemma, but he sincerely hoped his next words wouldn’t come back to haunt him in the days to come. "Rabb, I’m going to send you over there. I’m assigning you to Camp Liberty Bell. I expect you to provide legal counsel as required in resolving this conflict. I figure it’ll take you about twenty four hours to get on base. I’ll handle things from here until then. If you’re lucky, you can squeeze in an hour or two in Seoul on the way. That will allow you to take care of any medical arrangements Mac needs. Do not, I repeat, do not allow yourself to be controlled by your emotions on this." "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." Harm’s cell phone rang just then, and at the admiral’s nod he flipped it open. "Rabb." "Commander Harmon Rabb?" "Yes." "This is Dr. Lee…Colonel Mackenzie’s physician." The doctor spoke flawless English in a deeply cultured voice whose calm resonance probably did wonders to soothe the nerves of worried family members. It wasn’t working on Harm, though. He was tense and edgy, completely unable to restrain himself from jumping up and pacing the floor while he talked. "How is she?" "I’ll be honest Commander, she’s in bad shape. Looks like she fought hard, but she definitely got the worst end of the deal. She’s got three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a dislocated shoulder, but I’m most concerned about the head injury." Harm stiffened and froze in his tracks. He didn’t need medical training to know that head injuries were potentially deadly. Unaware of the effect his words were having on Harm, the doctor went on. "Luckily, her face is fine. Whoever hit her got her in the back of the head. Pretty cowardly, that. Excuse me for a moment." The doctor paused to speak to somebody in the background, and then came back on the line. "As I was saying, the colonel received a heavy blow to the back of the head. Her x-rays indicate a severe fracture of the skull with significant resultant intracranial swelling. We need your permission to perform surgery. Our aim is twofold. First, we have to remove bone fragments from the wound and implant a metal plate that we will connect to healthy skull bone. Secondly, we need to install a shunt that will allow excess fluids to drain, thereby reducing the pressure. I think she has a better than even chance of pulling through this, but if we’re going to do it, we need to get started as soon as possible." "What are the risks?" "I won’t lie to you. She could die on the table. But her chance of survival with the surgery is significantly higher than it is if we do nothing." "Then do the surgery. Do whatever it takes. Just don’t let her die." Harm gave the doctor the fax number at JAG headquarters. "Fax me whatever you need me to sign. I’ll get it back to you right away." "It’s on its way now. And Commander?" "Yes?" "I promise you, we’ll do everything we can to get her through this." "Thank you." They hung up, and Harm briefly explained what he’d learned. The admiral nodded grimly and picked up the phone to make another call. Harm went into the bullpen to pick up the fax, which he quickly scanned, signed, and sent back to the hospital. When he returned to the admiral’s office, A.J. was just hanging up the phone. "O.K., you’ve got a flight out of Norfolk in just under four hours. You’d better get moving." "Yes, Sir." Harm’s hand was already on the doorknob when the admiral spoke again. "Rabb?" "Sir?" "Bring her home." "I intend to, Sir." Harm made a quick stop at his apartment to pack a bag before heading for Norfolk. He functioned largely on autopilot, his thoughts consumed with worry for Mac. Snippets of conversation and fragments of shared experiences flashed through his mind. Their first meeting in the presidential rose garden. That fateful night in Sydney. Their conversation on the admiral’s porch. All the times they had served together – on carriers, in foreign countries, as opposing counsel in court. Russia. Paraguay. South America. Italy. So many places. So much that they had shared. And yet…their relationship was still uneven at the best of times. Harm had never put a name to what he felt for Mac. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe subconsciously he was afraid that naming it would somehow jinx it. Instead, he’d spent years living in relationship limbo, never taking the risk, never pushing beyond his comfort zone. It dawned on him now what an awful fool he’d been. He’d always assumed that their chance would come ‘some day.’ But the elusive ‘some day’ had never happened, and now a cruel twist of fate was poised to take her away from him forever. His insides twisted and curled in upon themselves at the thought, causing a sudden brief bout of nausea to climb his throat. He fought it down, and sped on toward Norfolk, sending prayer after prayer heavenward. He would do anything, absolutely anything, if only God would spare her. He arrived in Norfolk almost without being aware of having made the trip. He was thankful the hour was late and traffic light. Otherwise, his inattention could have proven fatal. As it was, he arrived safely and was soon on board his flight to Seoul. He tried to make himself comfortable, fully aware that he had nearly eighteen hours of travel time ahead of him. He knew he should sleep, but rest eluded him. Every moment that passed brought him closer to Mac, but it was also another moment of not knowing what was going on. It was possible that he had already lost her, but his mind froze at the mere suggestion. No. She would make it through this. She had to. There was still too much unsaid between them. Finally, exhaustion and worry caught up with him, and he dozed.
**** End Part 1 ****
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