|
Lost and Found
Author: Pixie Rating: PG Category: JAG Story Disclaimers: Neither JAG nor its characters belong to me. I'm not making any money from this little escapade, so please don't sue me.
****** Part 4 ******
0027 Zulu (1927 Local) JAG Headquarterse Falls Church, Virginia
Mac rubbed her temples and glanced at her watch, more to give her a reason to look away from the computer screen than out of any need to check the time. It was getting late, and she hadn't heard from either the SAR team or the admiral in hours. As if on cue, her telephone rang, and she snatched it up, hoping for good news. "Colonel Mackenzie" "Colonel? It's Major Sotheby." "Any news, Major?" "I'm afraid not yet. I just wanted to let you know the team has checked both the original flight path and the point of last contact." "And?" She didn't bother to hide her impatience. "No joy." "Now will you check the coordinates I gave you?" "Not yet. Now we start a circular search pattern, beginning at the point of last contact and widening concentrically." "Major. They're more than a hundred miles from point of last contact. At that speed, it's going to take you days to find them." "Ma'am. I'm not sure why you're so certain of your information, but you have to believe that we'll check on it just as soon as we exhaust the more traditional search methods." Mac sighed heavily. "All right then, Major. Thanks for the update." "You're welcome." She ended the call, and sat back in her chair. Harm was still alive. She knew that much, trusted her bizarre sixth sense enough to believe in it. But she had no idea if he was injured, and if he was, how badly. She also knew that it would be at least another couple of hours before A.J. could even get close to where she'd told him to look. It hit her suddenly that she could be wrong. The coordinates she'd given him could have been far off the mark. That being the case, and A.J. being just one lone person in a vast wilderness, chances were pretty high that he wouldn't be able to find the crash site based on what she'd given him. The pencil she'd been holding in her hand snapped, startling her. With a grunt of disgust she dropped it in the trash and grabbed her coffee mug. Maybe a short break and a refill would help. Abrupt silence and cold stares greeted her entrance to the break room. She stopped in the doorway, momentarily puzzled by the unusual reception. Sturgis mumbled something about a case and ducked out quickly. Jen went back to stocking the coffee supplies, her back turned to Mac. Bud was the only one who didn't try to escape in some way, but the look on his face was vaguely accusatory. "Hi, Bud." "Ma'am." "Everything okay?" "Yes, Ma'am." She raised an eyebrow at him, silently encouraging him to tell her what was on his mind. "Any word on the commander?" he asked, straining for nonchalance and falling shy of the mark. Ahh…So that was what was going on. They were upset about her apparent indifference to Harm's plight. "Only that they haven't found him yet," she said. She couldn't tell him what was going on, couldn't risk word getting around that she'd circumvented the SAR team and sent out a single individual on what most people would consider to be a wild goose chase. If anything happened to Admiral Chegwidden…No. She wouldn't think about it. Hard as it was, and lonely as it obviously was going to be for a while, she knew she had to trust her intuition, and she had to keep her own actions to herself. With time – and massive amounts of luck – all would turn out fine in the end. She hated being in this position though, and wondered how the admiral had handled the stress as long as he did – especially with her and Harm to deal with. "Ma'am?" She started. "I'm sorry, Bud. I didn't hear what you said." "I asked about the time for the Change of Command Ceremony." "Oh. It's at oh nine hundred Monday morning." "Uniform of the day?" "Summer whites. Yes." "Okay, I'll make a note on my calendar." He glanced at his watch and caught his breath. "I'd better run. I'm supposed to pick up little A.J. from daycare. I'll see you tomorrow, Ma'am." "Goodnight, Bud." He left at a fast walk and she turned to fill her mug. As she walked back to her office, she noticed that the bullpen was rapidly emptying as the workday ended and people hurried home to their families. She didn't have a family to head home to. Instead, she had a full inbox and more worry than she knew what to do with. She sat down, barely conscious of the solid comfort provided by the big leather chair. Swiveling, she stared out the window. Oblivious to the view outside, her thoughts turned inward. Is this what it had been like for the admiral? Day in, day out, for years on end, forced to keep his own counsel about the vast majority of his work? His professional life had to have been one massive effort to keep the scales balanced between getting the job done, and keeping his superiors happy. There must have been countless times when he'd known things that, if made public, could have done untold damage. And yet somehow, in all that time, he'd never given any indication that the pressure bothered him. Wait. That wasn't entirely true. During the last year of his service, A.J. had been…off somehow. Not himself. Had the stress gotten to be too much? Had that been why he'd been acting so strangely? She didn't know – probably would never know. A.J. Chegwidden wasn't exactly forthcoming when it came to personal information. She'd never understood why A.J. hadn't taken Harm back after the Paraguay fiasco, and she figured that the odds of her ever getting an answer to that one were about as high as the odds that the polar ice caps would suddenly boil away. But there was one thing she did know – one thing she understood now better than she'd ever been able to before. The admiral's decisions during that awful time had not been made in a vacuum. He'd had pressure on him from all sides. The staff, including Harm, had wanted something done to make sure she came home safely. She'd also be willing to bet that both the SecNav and the director of the CIA had told him to stay the hell out of it. In a way, she felt guilty about the whole mess – as though it were somehow her fault. But the practical side of her denied it. She'd been following orders, and it was not her fault that things had gotten out of control. She only regretted that the fallout had been so incredibly far reaching. She took a sip of her coffee and went back to staring out the window. Loren Singer had always been open about her ambitions. Everybody knew that she'd wanted to be the first female Judge Advocate General. She shook her head. Two weeks as acting JAG, and Mac was all but ready to jump ship. No way did she want this position full time. Oh, she could handle the job. She knew that - had proven it on more than one occasion. But her place was definitely in the courtroom, not playing the part of juggling politico. She turned her attention to her desk, tidying it up and putting files and folders away, locking the cabinets as she went. Then she shut down her computer, forwarded her phone to her cell, and left the office. She could brood at home just as easily as she could here, but at least there, she could do it in civvies. ************ A.J. stopped to pull out his water bottle. He was slightly out of breath, and there was a fine sheen of moisture on his forehead. Breaking trail through this mess was not fun. Sure, there were open meadows to cross. Those were easy. But there were also patches of undergrowth so dense he'd found himself wishing for a machete on more than one occasion. He took out his compass, checked his heading, and grunted in satisfaction, then checked his watch. Not much time left before dark. He'd have to hurry. And he'd have to hope that Mac's coordinates had at least been in the ballpark. He also had to hope that somebody on that downed chopper was in good enough condition to build a signal fire or send up a flare. He tucked the water bottle back into his pack and started forward, his strides long and confident. As he walked, he allowed his mind to wander and found himself pondering the interesting change of circumstances brought about by this accident. The last time there had been a major crisis, Mac had been the one missing, he'd been the one in command, and Harm had been the searcher. He shook his head, wondering idly if the odd twist had occurred to Harm or Mac. Another mass of brambles greeted him on the far side of the tiny clearing, and he glared at it balefully. He was beginning to hate blackberries. Then he thought about Harm, missing, possibly hurt, and undoubtedly completely lost, and attacked the offending bushes with a vengeance. As he struggled and yanked, pushed and pulled, he thought about the past year. What a mess. He'd known a long time ago that it was nearing time for him to retire. When he'd first started considering it, he'd thought long and hard about the people he'd be leaving behind. He wanted the best for them. In many ways, they were family to him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to feel good about retiring unless he could feel that he'd done his best by his people. Then there'd been Singer's murder, and Paraguay, and months of malcontent in the ranks. Sturgis had been angry at Bud. Mac had been, and probably still was, dealing with the aftermath of Sadik's head games. Bud seemed to be struggling to find his way, and Harm…well, he hadn't known, and still didn't really know, what to do about Harm. In many ways, Harm was the son he'd never had, and as in many father-son relationships, they didn't always see eye to eye. There were so many things still unsaid between them, many of which would probably never be said. His relationship with Harm was the one thing that still felt incomplete about his retirement. Sturgis and Bud had worked things out, and Harm and Mac seemed to have finally gotten their friendship back on track. But there was still tension between himself and Harm, and he regretted that. With a final tug, he found a way through the bushes and moved into the woods. As he walked, angling toward the location Mac had marked on the map, he cleared his mind. This was no time to daydream. There was work to be done. He glanced up at the sky, muttered a curse at the gathering storm clouds, and then focused his eyes forward, his attention firmly fixed on the task at hand. ************ Harm put another branch on the fire. It wasn't a cold evening. Instead, it was muggy. The air had the heavy feel it sometimes acquired just before a storm. That thought in mind, he'd moved his small pile of firewood into their improvised shelter. The storm would probably put the fire out, but if he could keep some wood dry, he should be able to get it started again when the rain stopped. He glanced over at Colonel Palmiro, glad to see that she seemed to be sleeping reasonably comfortably. Then, with a final glance at the gathering clouds, he eased his way down the mountain. His arms were full, his mind occupied with thoughts of their dwindling survival supplies, when a sound in the distance caught his attention. He stood from where he'd been reaching for a branch and waited silently, hoping to hear the sound again. For several moments, there was nothing, and he'd about decided he'd imagined it when he heard it again. It was closer this time, and sounded…human. He dropped the load of wood and moved back to the shelter as quickly as his ankle would allow. Quickly, he pawed through their meager supplies, hunting for the flare gun. He found it, breathed a quick prayer, and shot a flare into the sky. He waited a few minutes, but heard nothing. Hoping against hope, he fired a second flare, then put the gun away and went to stand at the edge of their shelter, looking out over the valley floor. He listened, staring hard at the area of the woods from which he thought the sound had originated. Silence again. Nothing greeted his strained senses but the sounds of birds and insects, the feel of sweat trickling down the back of his neck, and the smell of burning wood. He was ready to give up, had even started to turn back into the cave, when a familiar figure stepped out of the trees below him. "How in the…?" he rubbed his eyes and looked again. "Admiral?" Sure enough, Admiral Chegwidden strode out of the dense underbrush, stopping to look up at him with a faint smile on his face. "Fancy meeting you here, Commander," he called as he began to climb to where Harm stood. Harm was, maybe for the first time in his life, rendered speechless. He stared at the admiral, half expecting him to disappear in a puff of smoke. The admiral, finally reaching him, grinned. "Close your mouth, Commander. Mosquitoes don't provide enough protein to be worth the effort." Harm closed his jaw with a snap, and shook his head sharply causing a jolt of pain to flash behind his eyes. He rubbed his temples absently while he looked at the admiral. "How did you…?" "Find you?" "It does seem odd that you should happen upon us on a casual hike, yes." "Trust me, Commander. This day has been a lot of things, but casual definitely isn't one of them." "Then how..?" "Mac." Harm blew out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. He should've known. Mac had found him once before. It shouldn't surprise him that she'd done it again. Still… "Why didn't she send a SAR team?" "Trust me, she tried." "But?" "They did everything but put her in a straightjacket." He shook his head in remembered anger on her behalf. "They certainly didn't believe that she could pinpoint your exact position from a dream." "Exact?" "Well, not precise to the geographic minute, but close enough, obviously." "Amazing." "Agreed." A.J. looked around, taking in the crude shelter and the sleeping colonel at a glance. "She okay?" "Broken leg, maybe some internal injuries. She needs a doctor, but she's holding her own." "What about you?" "I got lucky. Just a sprained ankle and a hell of a headache." "And the pilots?" Harm shook his head sadly. "Didn't make it. They're still in the chopper. I did the best I could to make sure animals wouldn't get to the bodies, but I haven't been back to check them since this morning." "I'll have a look." A.J. glanced up at the sky as thunder rumbled ominously. "Looks like we've got more weather coming in." "Looks that way, yes." "I've got an emergency transmitter, but in this weather…" he shrugged. "Signal probably won't get through until it clears." "That's what I'm thinking. Looks like we'll have to hunker down and wait it out." He swung his pack down against the wall. "There's some food in there, couple of blankets, first aid kit. We'll be okay for the night." Harm chuckled a little. "It's got to be better than last night was." "Where's the crash site?" "I'll show you." Harm glanced over at the colonel, checking to make sure she was still sleeping, then slipped over the edge of the overhang and led the way down to the crash site. ************ Mac waited for the phone to be answered at the other end, absently running a finger around the edge of yet another cup of coffee while she did. "Hello?" Mattie's voice sounded young and a little frightened. "Mattie? It's Mac." "Mac! Have they found Harm?" "I'm sorry, Sweetie. Not yet." She considered telling Mattie about the admiral, but decided against it. The story behind A.J.'s unplanned hike was long and involved, and frankly, she was too exhausted to want to get into it. "I wanted to check in with you, see if you're all right." "I'm doing okay. I'm just so worried about him." "They're going to find him, Mattie." "How can you be so sure?" "I just…am. Besides, I've known Harm for years. If anybody can survive something like this, it'd be him." Mattie laughed a little at that. "Sort of like Superman, huh?" "Seems that way sometimes." There was a comfortable silence, and then Mac spoke again. "You okay staying with your dad?" "Yeah. He's cool with it." Mac smiled a little at that. "And you? Are you 'cool' with it?" "Yeah." "Good." Mac shifted, glancing at a candle that flickered on the end table. "Listen, Mattie. I'd better go. I don't want to keep the phone tied up." "Oh. Right. In case they call." "Right. Listen…Mattie." "Yes Ma'am?" "I promise I'll call if I hear anything." "Thanks, Mac." "You bet." Mac hung up the phone, glad that Mattie was staying with her father for a few days. Thank God she had his support while Harm was missing. She glanced over at the television, which was tuned to ZNN. The weather report was on, and she glared at the line of storms she saw crossing the Appalachians. She'd been hoping the admiral would get to Harm tonight and be able to contact the SAR team, but those storms would probably cause signal interference. Frustrated, she threw a pillow at the screen, then flipped it off, blew out the candle, and went to bed.
********** Commercial Break **********
It’s new! It’s exciting! It’ll knock your socks off! It’s revolutionary! Life altering! It’ll make you see things in a new light! It’s fantastic! Incredible! Thrilling! Stunning! What is it? It’s…
It’s so amazing, we can’t even tell you what it is! You won’t be able to live without it, even though it’s a complete mystery to you! Coming soon… But we won’t even tell you when!
*************************************
|
