Chapters 1-7       Chapters 8-15      Chapters 16-23     Chapters 24- 30      Chapters 31-36 Title:  Twist of Fate Chapter 24 Mac’s office was filled with assorted arrangements of roses in every shade and color combination imaginable.  There was a narrow two-foot path from her desk to the door, but every other inch of floor and surface space was covered with flowers.  The overflow had been spread around the bullpen, Mattoni, Sturgis, and Singer’s offices. Not a single vase contained a card, yet she couldn’t doubt whom they had to be from. Then again, this was overkill even for Harm. “Tiner, have you heard from the commander yet?” “No, ma’am.  His cell phone is going straight to voice mail, but I have left a message you’re looking for him.” “Thanks, Tiner.” Mac had subtly tried checking with Harriet and Sturgis about the flowers, but neither knew what Harm was up to, nor had they heard from him all day.  She knew he had planned to leave early for a preliminary mishap investigation at Pax River, but she’d hoped to have heard something from him by now.  Especially since there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell she was going to get any work done in that flower shop of an office. By sixteen hundred hours she’d given up any hope of concentrating in the law library, either. The smell of flowers had permeated the entire floor.  There was no escaping the curiosity that had been building all day, waiting for Harm to explain.   Tossing a few files into her briefcase, she decided the only way to get that blasted closing argument finished was to take it home and work on it there. “If the commander calls, tell him I’ve secured early.” Mac tapped on Tiner’s desk. “Yes, ma’am.” “Ma’am!” Harriet called after Mac when she spotted her leaving for the day. Mac stopped and turned to see what Harriet needed. “What should I do with all the flowers?” Looking around the bullpen and over to her office, Mac shrugged. “I don’t know. Make sure everyone in the building takes at least one vase home with them.  It’ll do some of these guys good to bring their wives flowers,” she teased. “Yes, ma’am,” Harriet grinned. Mac’s apartment Georgetown The moment she opened the front door the scent of roses crashed over her like a tidal wave. The flower bandit had struck again.  Only this time, seated on the sofa in the middle of the floral clutter was one Harmon Rabb. “How long have you been here?” “Not long,” he smiled, getting up to greet her at the door. “Have you completely lost your mind?” She dropped her briefcase and waved her arm across the room.  This wasn’t quite as bad as the office. Flowers covered the coffee table, the mantel, and the end tables, but at least she could still see the carpet. “Yes.” Harm leaned over and gave Mac the softest, sweetest, quick kiss he knew how. Mac had to admit Harm could make her toes curl with the slightest of touches, and that one most certainly had done the trick. “I’m crazy about you. Put on something pretty, we’re going out for dinner.”  Harm kissed her nose. The flowers had made such an impact when she’d first come in the room that she hadn’t even noticed how Harm was dressed. He had on her favorite gray double-breasted suit with a dark blue shirt and tie that turned his eyes a gorgeous shade of azure blue. “What’s this all about?”  Mac let her hands fall on his lapels, brushing off a non-existent piece of lint. “I haven’t done enough lately to show you how special you are.” Patting her playfully on her rump, “Go on, go change.” Mac walked away shaking her head. Whatever had come over him, she liked it. It had taken her a few tries to find a dress that fit her slightly expanding tummy and still gave her the look she wanted.  Settling on a simple sleeveless dark red dress with a deep cut rounded neckline and even lower cut back, Mac reappeared in the living room. Harm’s heart skipped several beats the minute she walked into the room. She was absolutely stunning. “You look gorgeous,” he breathed. “Thank you.” Her eyes beamed as she accepted his proffered hand and followed him out to the car.  Forty-two minutes later Harm pulled into a quaint waterfront restaurant. “I was beginning to wonder if you really had plans to feed me,” Mac teased. She’d not taken the time to have a snack before leaving and her stomach was showing signs of revolting. “I’m sorry, I wanted someplace special.”  Harm walked around and opened the car door for her. “Well, you’ve certainly managed that. I suddenly have an overwhelming craving for mussels marinara and cracked crab.” Mac couldn’t resist licking her lips. “Your wish is my command, my lady.” Mac didn’t know if she should laugh or cry at Harm’s from the waist bow, but either way, she was filled with a warmth that was building to a slow burning fire. The outside patio extended all the way to the water’s edge.  Small tables covered in the typically quaint red and white checkered cloths and mini lanterns were scattered about the small area. Strings of tiny white lights hung from the rooftop. Harm had requested a corner table at the water’s edge.  It was a perfect night. “This is the best lobster bisque I have ever had,” Mac wiped the corner of her mouth with the napkin. “It’s been years since I’ve eaten here, but the bisque was always my favorite. I thought you wanted mussels?” “I did, but when you ordered the bisque it sounded really good. I’m glad I changed my mind.” A small part of Mac had been wondering what this was all about. Another part of her had managed to push her curiosity aside and enjoy the evening, something increasingly easier to accomplish as the night progressed. After dinner Harm took hold of Mac’s hand as they exited the building and whispered in her ear, “Walk with me?” There was no way Mac was going to refuse a quiet stroll along the shore on a moonlit night with the man she loved. “Sounds lovely.” They walked a few yards down the street and then turned down a narrow footpath. “I’m guessing you’ve been here before?” Mac grinned, convinced there was no other reason to have chosen such an obscure direction. “It’s been a while, but yeah.”  Harm smiled, hoping Mac couldn’t pick up on his increasing nervousness. A little further along, Mac found herself standing at the edge of a tiny peninsula, the water lapping around the land’s edge. “Mac?” “Mm?” “I’m sure you’ve probably wondered what tonight is all about?” “The thought has crossed my mind,” she smiled shyly. “It’s about this.” Harm pulled out a brilliant solitaire diamond and held it tightly between two fingers at the same time his free hand lifted Mac’s left hand up beside the sparkling ring.  “Will you marry me?” Taking a deep breath to restore all the air that had rushed from her lungs, Mac almost started to cry. “You already know I will.” Harm pushed the bauble onto her finger, pulling her closely against him.  Capturing her lips in a delicate and tender kiss, he eased away kissing her chin, her cheek, her temple, and then whispered in her ear. “I know, but I mean now, tonight. Let’s get married?” Chapter 25 Mac pulled back suddenly. “What did you say?” “I love you, Mac. I want you to be my wife. Please, say yes, you’ll marry me.” Harm ducked his head a little and let his lips gently caress the soft skin along her jaw, behind her ear, and then down her silky neck. “Say yes,” he murmured. Mac couldn’t think straight. His lips were short-circuiting all her synapses. “Now I know you’ve lost your mind,” she managed to mumble. “People don’t really run off and get married. There’s paperwork, and waiting periods, and....”   “Taken care of.” Harm captured her lips one more time, then gently stepped back pulling out a piece of paper from his breastcoat pocket. “It helps to have friends in high places. I’ve got a license, the three-day waiting period has been waived, and Chaplain Turner is waiting for us at the chapel. All you have to do is say yes.”  His eyes pleaded with her. Mac had seen so many emotions flash across his eyes through the years: the day she’d been shot by poachers, when she’d left JAG for private practice, the day he’d left to return to flying, on the ferry, the admiral’s porch, at the door the night Brumby had left, but none of it held the depth and desperation that she was reading in his eyes now.  She had no idea what he’d had to do to make this work, but she wasn’t going to turn down the best thing that had ever happened to her. “YES.” With a force he hadn’t expected, Mac flung herself back into his arms and kissed him for all she was worth. Thirty minutes later, she and Harm were standing before Chaplain Turner at the altar of the Annapolis chapel.  Mac couldn’t begin to imagine who he’d had to bribe or blackmail to pull this off, but it was perfect. “With the power vested in me, and the blessings of the most high Lord, I pronounce you man and wife.” The kiss that followed was hot enough to have melted snow in Alaska. Chaplain Turner, the Academy command chaplain and his wife, who had acted as witnesses, cleared their throats in a unanimous attempt to regain Harm and Mac’s attention. Blushing bashfully, Mac turned towards the three people grinning at them like Cheshire cats.  “Thank you very much,” she smiled coyly, extending her hand. “Yes, thank you.” Harm shook Chaplain Turner and Chaplain Gregory’s hands.  “If you’ll excuse us.”  Mac sat in the car staring at the small sprig of red roses Mrs. Gregory had given her when she arrived at the chapel.  "You thought of everything didn’t you?” “I tried.” Harm squeezed her hand. He’d been holding onto her for dear life since they’d left the restaurant, and he had doubts he’d ever be able to let go of her hand again. Parking the car in front of the hundred year old Victorian home, Harm relinquished his hold on his wife’s hand long enough to scoot around the car and escort her into their honeymoon retreat. “Harm, this is beautiful.” Mac looked up at the historical edifice, her jaw hanging open in awe. “I’d hoped you’d like it.  I did manage to arrange for us to have Monday off, but I promise you soon we’ll have a real honeymoon.” “No. This is perfect,” she smiled back at him.  She couldn’t have picked a more perfect setting for a romantic getaway if she’d tried. And it was perfect in every way.  The inside of the old building was elegant, yet charming, and their room was romantic and cozy.  Decorated in fresh, light colors, the room sported a fireplace, a four poster canopy bed, a private balcony overlooking the Paca Gardens and the Academy chapel, which was lit like a beacon in the background, and dozens of deep red roses were scattered on every available flat surface.  It wasn’t ‘til this very minute that Mac realized she didn’t remember noticing red roses among any of the flowers she’d received all day.  She’d never be able to look at another rose without remembering this wonderfully perfect day. Immediately Mac gravitated over to the balcony.  Looking out at the lovely vista, she took a deep breath. “Is it true?” “What?” Harm stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, intentionally spreading his flat palm across her tummy. “Are we really married? Am I really Mrs. Sarah Rabb?” “We are. You are.” He nibbled gently on the back of her neck. “Of course, that could create a little confusion at the office the next time Admiral Chegwidden yells, “Rabb!” out of his office door.” “Not really. He never yells out his door for me,” Mac chuckled. “Oh no?” “No.” She spun around in his arms. “Though, maybe just in case, I’ll keep MacKenzie at work. Would you mind?” “You can call yourself anything you want, so long as you’re mine.” Harm leaned in for another kiss, but Mac brushed her finger against his lips. “I’m serious, Harm. Would it bother you if at the office I went by Colonel MacKenzie, but in our private lives used Mrs. Rabb?” “I wasn’t kidding, Mac. I don’t need to brand you with my name.” Harm took her ring finger in his hand. “This ‘token of my affection and never ending love’ tells me, and everyone else, all I need to know. You’re taken.” “I love you, Harmon Rabb.” Mac’s lips fell on his again. This was something she was going to enjoy getting used to.  They’d kissed before, but tonight their touch held the promise of things to come, of desires long denied, and of dreams too long suppressed. As much as he wanted to continue savoring her lips against his, Harm needed to go retrieve the bags from the car. He’d been so caught up in Mac’s reaction to everything, it had slipped his mind when they’d first arrived. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped back. “Why?” Mac moved forward, back into his space. “I need to get our bags.” “I don’t have a bag.” Her finger began doodling gentle circles at the vee of his neck. “Actually, you do.” Harm swallowed hard.  “Huh?” “I, uh... packed a few things for you.” Her fingers were sending electrical shocks scattering to very sensitive places. “You did?” Mac began undoing the knot in his tie, her finger occasionally wandering off to tease his ear. “Uh huh. I didn’t think you’d mind.” Harm grabbed her hand. There was no way he could think and talk with her doing that to him. “We can go shopping tomorrow if I you don’t like what I brought.” “You didn’t have plans for us to go anywhere else tonight, did you?” Mac slid the tie out from around his neck and began working on the buttons of his shirt. “No,” Harm answered hesitantly. “Then why do we need our clothes?” Her fingers tangled playfully in his chest hair as she undid another button. “Tooooth bbbrush?” Those tendrils of electricity were spreading waves of pleasure through him again. “Can’t it wait? I had other things in mind for you.” Mac leaned forward and licked the pulsing vein in his neck. “Yeeessss,” Harm acquiesced. His lips latched on to Mac’s as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back into the room.  His willpower was now totally shattered. His restraint was in tatters.  Any plans to carefully test the waters and make sure Mac was ready for a physically intimate relationship were completely shot out of the water with a single touch.  Chapter 26 Annapolis, Maryland Next morning Mac stretched her legs and nuzzled into the warm wall beside her. She didn’t know which was sweeter, the smell of the roses, or the feel of Harm’s strong body beside hers.  Perfectly contented to stay wrapped in his arms for the rest of the day, Mac was forced out of bed in a flash when a wave of nausea rushed over her. “Mac?” Harm hurried out of bed behind her.  Finding her draped over the toilet, it hit him. “Morning sickness.”   He stood naked in the bathroom, completely oblivious as to what he could do to help.  Having no better ideas, he squatted down beside her and began rubbing soothing circles along her back. No longer feeling the urge to vomit, Mac leaned back against the bathroom wall. “Is it always this bad?” Harm moved to sit next to her. Handing her a glass of water he had poured from the sink, he brushed his other hand gently through her hair, pushing the wayward locks away from her face. “Thank you.” Swallowing the water in nearly one long gulp, she set the now empty glass down beside her. “No, if I have a few crackers when I first wake up, something in my stomach, it seems to help. I wasn’t thinking about that last night.”  The thought of last night brought a smile to her face. “Hey, you’re getting a little paunch,” Harm grinned, eagerly placing his hand on Mac’s slightly enhanced tummy. “Paunch?” she looked at him exhausted, through one eye, her smile gone. Drawn in by the expression on his face, she turned to watch him more closely.  Sporting a smile as wide as the Potomac, he’d laid his hand flat across her tummy, brushing his thumb back and forth.  “What are you thinking?” she asked softly. Harm shrugged one shoulder and looked up at her, never moving his hand, his smile wider than before. “We’re having a baby.” Before Mac had a chance to let her mind battle the pros and cons, the anger, the frustration, or the myriad of other emotions that were entangled in this pregnancy, Harm had wrapped himself around her and was wringing sensations from her body that precluded the possibility of any thought.  When he did this to her all she could do was feel, feel him and his love. Having made their way back to the more comfortable bed after exhausting themselves on the cold tile floor, Harm sighed heavily into Mac’s hair. “As much as I want to stay here like this all day and make love to you on every surface possible, I need to go get our clothes so I can take you downstairs and feed you.” “I don’t need food,” Mac licked his cheek like a lollipop. “I have you.” “Yeah, well, as tempting as that offer is, I promised to love, honor and cherish, and I suspect somewhere in the fine print it says feed.” Reluctantly releasing his hold on his bride, Harm crawled out of bed. “Think about what you’d like to do once you’ve been properly fed. We could go sailing, or shopping down Main Street.  I could show you my old stomping grounds at the Academy.” Harm raised a brow at her. “I’ve been to the Academy, Harm.” Mac rolled her eyes at him. He had to be the only groom she’d ever heard of who wanted to go sightseeing on his honeymoon. “Ah, but have you thrown pennies at Tecumseh?”  Harm reached for his pants.  “Tecumseh?” Mac sat back, admiring the view as her husband searched for his clothes. “The Shawnee Indian chief who helped the British capture Detroit during the war of 1812, or better known as the God of the 2.0.  It’s good luck to throw a penny at his quiver.  Then there’s the Herndon monument.”  Harm grabbed for his shirt.    “Herndon?”  Mac figured she could get him out of that shirt in half the time it was taking him to put it on. “The obelisk outside the chapel. You saw it yesterday. It’s tradition, Mac. We’ve all climbed it as plebes. First it gets greased with lard, then...” “You climbed a greased monument?”  The possibilities for the rest of the day were starting to take on a new perspective. “Yeah, I told you, it’s tradition.” Harm tucked his shirt into his pants. Mac crawled over to the edge of the bed and wiggled her finger for Harm to come closer. “You bring me clean clothes so we can go downstairs and eat without getting arrested, and then you and I can start making some ‘traditions’ of our own.”  With a raised brow, and a come hither tone in her voice, Mac left no room for doubt in Harm’s mind as to what her plans for the rest of their honeymoon would be. JAG Headquarters Tuesday morning “I still haven’t figured out how I’m going to be able to face Harriet,” Mac sighed, watching the numbers climb over the elevator doors. “She’ll get over it. After the bedlam that surrounded her and Bud’s wedding, she of all people should understand. I mean, even they considered eloping.” “True, but still. I really think we probably should have at least called her at home last night.” “It was late and we were otherwise occupied,” Harm tried really hard not to smirk, but he couldn’t hide the twinkle in his eyes. “Fine then you tell her we couldn’t call last night because we were having sex.” Much to Mac’s chagrin, just as she uttered the last words of her sentence the doors opened to three very wide eyed petty officers, trying unsuccessfully to pretend they hadn’t heard the colonel shout at the commander about sex. Ignoring the spectacle she’d just made of herself, Mac practically stomped all the way to her office.  Harm followed a few short steps behind and closed the door behind them. “Mac, hey, I’m sorry you got caught talking about sex, but for the record, it wasn’t sex. I’ve done that plenty of times.” Harm raised his hand to her cheek. His strong thumb gently brushing against her soft skin, his voice dropped to a reverent whisper. “I’m still marveling at the newness of making love.” Convinced she was probably blushing brighter than her wedding dress, Mac looked up into Harm’s eyes. “I know what you mean.” “Good, because I don’t want you letting yourself get upset about silly things. It’s not good for you or for little Harm.” Grinning from ear to ear, he dropped his hand to his side, resisting the urge to pat her tummy. Mac’s mood was within inches of sinking to the floor as she realized he was about to mention the baby when the words ‘little Harm’ made her laugh out loud. “I thought you didn’t want to name a kid Harmon?” “No, I said someone else shouldn’t name their kid Harmon. I never said I didn’t want my son named after my dad and me.” Mac stared blankly at Harm for just a second. He wasn’t trying to placate her or patronize her, or even putting on a brave front; he was honestly excited about this child and looking upon it as his own.  She wished it was that easy for her, but for his sake, she was going to try harder.  She simply had to start thinking of this child as his. “You still with me, Marine?” “Oh, sorry. We’ll have to start thinking about names later, I really have a lot to make up for after being out yesterday.” “Understood. I’m going to see if Sturgis can help me move a few things over to your apartment until we find someplace a little bigger.” “Sounds like a plan. What’ll we do about Harriet?” “We’re going to wait for the admiral to let us announce it at staff meeting this morning, the way we planned.” “Well, then, you’ll have to wait till after staff meeting to ask Sturgis for his help.” “Oh, yeah. Good point. No problem.” Wishing he’d had the good sense to close the blinds when he closed the door. Harm smiled and winked at Mac before reluctantly leaving, heading back to his office.  Too busy glancing back towards Mac’s office to watch where he was going, Harm plowed full speed ahead into, of all people, Harriet. “Good morning, Commander.” Chapter 27 Never in his life had Harm wished so hard that it wasn’t against protocol to put his hands in his pockets. Saying as little as he could get away with, he hurried away from Harriet as quickly as possible, praying the entire time he babbled senselessly that she wouldn’t look down at his left hand. An hour later, Harm and Mac were seated side-by-side at the conference table, their hands in their laps, waiting for the admiral to arrive. “At ease people.” AJ waved at the standing officers when he came through the door. “ First order of business, I believe Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie have something to share. Commander...” Harm stood up with Mac standing on his left. Ignoring protocol and taking hold of her right hand, he began, “This may come as a bit of a surprise to some of you, but when two people are forced to face the reality that tomorrow isn’t promised, it becomes impossible to ignore what has been in front of you for six years.” Harm looked around at the faces in the room. The expressions varied from a knowing grin to lack of sleep. “On Friday night, Mac and I got married.” Protocol was thrown to the wind as people pushed their chairs out from under them and reached over to shake, hug, and kiss the newlyweds.  “It’s about time, buddy.” Sturgis smacked Harm across the back, winking knowingly at Mac. “Oh, Colonel!” Harriet hugged Mac, unwilling to let go. “I guess congratulations are in order, Commander, Colonel.” Only Singer could make that sound like a curse. Mac’s apartment Two months later Mac finished brushing her teeth and reached for her hairbrush.  Running it through her hair, she looked down at the cluttered counter. It was an odd feeling how well her belongings blended in with Harm’s more manly accessories.   She’d never thought such an ordinary scene would give her so much simple pleasure. “You’d better get a move on, Mom.  I need to get into the shower and I don’t want to steam you out of the bathroom.” Harm brushed Mac’s hair aside to gently kiss the back of her neck. “Sorry, I was just thinking.” Letting out a soft sigh, “I know, it’s way too cramped in here.  Maybe we should reconsider the house thing and just take a two bedroom apartment for now?” Harm was willing to do anything that would make things easier on Mac. “No, you’re right. It makes more sense to just go ahead and buy a house. I was just thinking how much I like having your things mixed with mine.” She set her brush down and turned to more fully face Harm. “I’m done. Bathroom’s all yours.” Harm kissed her cheek, and squatted down on his haunches. Placing a hand on either side of her more burgeoning belly, he pressed his lips to her tummy, kissed it lightly, and murmured, “Good morning. You be good to your mom today. Remember, Daddy loves you.”  Kissing her tummy one more time, he stood up and gave Mac a peck on the cheek for good measure, stripped out of his boxers, and reached into the shower to turn on the water. Mac rubbed her tummy with one hand and forced herself back to the bedroom to finish getting dressed.  Things had turned out much better than she had ever let herself imagine they could. She’d even found herself, more often than not, excited about the baby.   JAG Headquarters Later that morning  AJ Chegwidden looked at the papers in front of him. Things seemed to be going well for Harm and Mac. They had announced their pregnancy last month and not a single person had doubted Harm’s paternity. Recently, it had seemed to him that Mac appeared to be more contented, more at peace. The tremendous turmoil he’d seen in her eyes early on was growing increasingly rare. He hated to stir it all up again, but it was better she found out now and not later down the road. He was still staring at the file on his desk when Tiner’s voice came through the intercom.  “The commander and colonel are here for you, sir.” “Send them in.”  AJ stood up and stepped around to the front of his desk. “You sent for us, sir?” Harm held the door open for Mac. “Have a seat.” AJ waved at the two desks in front of him.  “I received a file I thought you might want to see.” He handed it to Mac first. “It seems that Bahriim’s sister has requested asylum.” Mac stared at the file. “What about Bahriim? Any closer to finding him?” Harm asked, resisting the urge to reach over and take hold of his wife’s hand. “No. According to the file, just over two months ago she approached the contingent for State in Kabul and offered what little information she had on Bahriim and his plans in exchange for asylum.” “Does it say why she waited so long?” Harm asked. “According to her request for asylum, Bahriim authorized the death of her only daughter after the girl was unjustly accused of aiding the Americans in your rescue.” “So it’s revenge. Was this verified?” Harm watched Mac out of the corner of his eye. She still hadn’t said anything, and it wasn’t like her not to look her commanding officer in the eye when he spoke. “I don’t have any details of her investigation. Immigration sent this file through channels when their computers cross-matched her name with a list of names for pending war crime investigations.  Even though she wasn’t officially detained, her name appears on a list of the people initially rounded up at the compound. The folder finally made its way to us this morning.” “Was she approved?” Harm asked. AJ nodded his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Asylum can take years to finalize, but yes, she was granted a temporary visa. There was no question that her life would be at stake if she remained in Afghanistan.” Mac finally looked up at AJ.  “Does she know anything about me? Us?” “I don’t know, Colonel.  It was in her house that we found the trap door to access the tunnels where you were being held.” “The woman in the burqa,” Mac muttered under her breath. “Excuse me, Colonel?” “I’m sorry, sir.” Mac straightened her shoulders. “When we arrived at the...compound there was a woman sitting in the front room weaving. I suspect it must be her.” “Could be, Colonel.”  AJ walked around to his desk, relieved Mac appeared to have found her Marine bearings. “When will she be arriving in the United States?” Mac asked. “Six weeks ago.” Neither Harm nor Mac could hide their surprise. “Sir?” Mac managed. “She arrived in New York six weeks ago.  Homeland Security isn’t noted for its speed or efficiency.” “Do we have any more information on her? Where she went? There must be an address on her.”  Mac’s voice contained a hint of panic. “I’d like to interview her myself, sir.  She might have answers that could not only help in the pursuit of Bahriim, but in... other things that could be pertinent to the war crimes investigation.” “INS has agreed to fax me her contact information. Mac, I don’t think it’s wise for you to participate. You’re too personally involved.” AJ could see Mac’s jaw tighten. “Sir, I’m the best person to speak with her. She knows me, or at least should recognize me.  Sir, you know as well as I do that any type of bond of familiarity will facilitate extracting possibly forgotten or overlooked information.” “If that’s your argument, Colonel, then the commander could just as easily speak with her.” “Sir, I can do this. I need to do this.” Mac was tightly gripping the arms of her chair. AJ glanced quickly at Harm. If he had an opinion, a preference, AJ couldn’t recognize it. “Very well, Colonel, but you do NOT go alone.  I was able to discover she’s teaching biochemistry at Johns Hopkins. Tiner is already looking into getting some additional information on her. INS isn’t known for their speed either.” “Johns Hopkins?” Harm’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Sir, the woman we saw in Afghanistan was weaving.” “According to this, Fashaad has her undergraduate degree from the University of San Francisco, a masters from Berkley, and a doctorate from Stanford.” Chapter 28 “What was she doing weaving in a dingy room in the middle of nowhere?” “You’ll have to ask her, but she wouldn’t be the first educated woman trapped behind the rule of the Taliban,” AJ offered. “I’d like to accompany the colonel.” AJ knew that would be coming next. He already wouldn’t be able to justify sending the victim of the war crimes to investigate the only friendly witness. There was no way he would be able to explain sending her husband as the second investigator. “Harm, I can’t do that and you know it. I have to have someone who isn’t directly involved in the incidents under investigation or whatever information the colonel obtains could be considered suspect.” The attorney and investigator in Harm knew the admiral was correct, but the husband and friend needed to watch his wife’s six. “As soon as we get contact information, I’ll let you know.” AJ turned to Mac. “I’ve already got my neck out painfully far. I’ll go with you myself, Colonel.” Harm and Mac nodded at their commanding officer.  Maybe some of the questions Mac had forced to the darkest recesses of her mind would finally be answered. Fashaad Sharrif’s apt. Baltimore, Maryland That evening Mac stood nervously outside the plain green door.  She knew realistically there was probably very little this woman could tell her, yet a small part of her hoped that maybe Fashaad had overheard something someone, anyone, might have said. AJ knocked lightly at the door. He wished there was something he could do or say to make this easier on Mac, but he knew this was something she was going to have to face on her own terms. “Welcome, please come in.” Fashaad opened the door. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with us,” AJ offered. The woman nodded her head, and after closing the door behind them, led the way to the living room. “I took the liberty of making some tea.” As everyone took seats around the coffee table, Fashaad picked up an ornate teapot. “Would you like a cup?” “Yes, thank you,” AJ accepted. “Thank you. “ With an intensity that a blind person would have recognized, Mac watched the woman pour out three cups of tea. What neither AJ nor Mac had noticed was that Fashaad was also carefully studying the two people before her.  She was familiar enough with the military pecking order to know that having a couple of lawyers appear at her doorstep wasn’t standard procedure, especially not when one was an admiral.  Judging by the nervous way the pretty colonel toyed with her wedding rings, Fashaad wondered of any of this had something to do with the woman’s obviously maternal state. The admiral was the only factor that made her consider otherwise.  She would simply have to be patient and see. “You’re the woman I saw weaving the day I was brought to the compound?” “I was.” Fashaad offered Mac some sugar. “What happened?”  Mac took two cubes and passed the bowl to the admiral. “How did a woman with your level of education wind up... there?” “Our country wasn’t always like that, Colonel. We were growing, changing, modernizing. Women were making great strides. Slowly, but it was happening.  Like many others before me, after my education I returned to my homeland to help Afghanistan join the modern world.” Fashaad sat back more comfortably in her chair.  “When the Taliban took over power some people managed to escape. I thought with the protection of my brother I could stay behind, make a difference, still help. As you can see, I was wrong.” “What had you expected from him?” AJ inquired. “I had thought he had developed the same hunger for a modern, prosperous Afghanistan that I had. After he returned from the United States, it was he who continued to pay for my education in this country. He was the one who insisted I continue on with my doctorate. I thought he would help me use my knowledge to defeat the Taliban.” “The United States?” Mac set her teacup down. “My brother is a graduate of UCLA medical school.” “He’s a doctor?” AJ’s eyes almost fell out of his head. “He was.  It took time, but slowly the Taliban mindset infiltrated my brother’s soul.  His only thought was of bringing Afghanistan’s people into submission and destroying the infidels.” “Then why didn’t he just kill Harm... Commander Rabb and me when he had the chance?” “I do not know.  He was like a man possessed.  Undoubtedly he thought he had more to gain by keeping you alive than killing you.” Mac mulled over what little the woman had already told her.  “Do you know anything about my time in captivity?” Fashaad shook her head. “Very little.  As a woman I was not included in any of my brother’s plans.” “I see.” Mac fiddled with her wedding rings again. “There are ten days we can’t account for.” This time Mac’s hand moved unconsciously to her stomach. “The drugs,” Fashaad tilted her head, not quite a nod, not quite a shrug. “You know about the drugs?” AJ interjected. “Some. It was one of the few things I was allowed to work on.  My brother wanted the perfect truth serum. Something we all know doesn’t exist.” “Is that what they gave me?” “You were undoubtedly given several different things. Sodium pentothal was the main drug used. It is a commonly known speech-inducing compound, a mild sedative that makes people more talkative.  At an appropriate dosage, you get just enough neural inhibitory effect to create an alcohol-like disinhibition of normal behavioral restraints.” “What else?” Mac muttered “He’s experimented with a few things, mostly to insure that you would not remember having given him any information. Other drugs were an attempt to try and manipulate his prisoners into behaving the way he would prefer.” “Is that why he used Rohypnol? So the victim is incapable of fighting back?” AJ asked, ignoring the shock in Mac’s eyes. “He uses very low doses of flunitrazepam to keep the person oblivious.  It is very commonly used because of its amnesia-like inducing qualities. In small doses flunitrazepam, or Rohypnol as you call it, makes you forget. He would administer a larger dose if he wanted to keep someone in an unconscious state. A stimulant would be used to revive you if he needed you more alert, or wanted you to eat or drink, that sort of thing, but always ensuring there would be enough of the other drugs in your system to keep you from realizing what was happening around you. He is more fond of other methods for encouraging total submission.”  A single tear escaped each of her eyes. “I’m sorry for the loss of your daughter.” AJ immediately recognized threatening to harm loved ones as a method for ensuring submission from others.  “Do you have other children?” “Yes, a son, Rajhid. He is only thirteen.” “Is he here now?” AJ was slightly concerned at the thought of an impressionable teenager overhearing the sensitive subject matters being discussed. “No, he is with friends.” Fashaad had not wanted him here for this meeting.  Her son was torn between his love for his uncle and the love for his mother.  She didn’t want to soil her brother’s image in the eyes of her son any more than necessary. “We have reason to believe your brother is responsible for ...” Mac couldn’t say it.  She had spent so much time fighting in her own mind to make this child Harm’s that she just couldn’t bring herself to say it. “The colonel’s current condition,” AJ finished for her. “I seriously doubt that,” Fashaad replied without skipping a beat. “You feel your brother is above using rape as a weapon?” “Admiral, I have no doubt my brother sees rape as an acceptable form of punishment, but my brother is an extremist. He would rather die than soil himself by joining physically with an infidel.  He would not stand for it.” Chapter 29 “He is the only person we know of, still unaccounted for, whose DNA has not been tested,” AJ continued. “I’m telling you, he would not have had physical relations of any kind with the colonel, and he would have cut off the hands of any of his men who tried.” “That’s what Larry said,” Mac spoke up. “Larry?”  Fashaad was confused. “We named two of the men Larry and Curly, for the Three Stooges,” Mac continued in Farsi. “I understood Curly’s ideas of what should be done to me and Larry reminded him that Bahriim would cut off his hands if he tried. Shortly after that, Bahriim gave me a shot of something and that’s the last I remember.” “I see.” Fashaad spoke in English for the admiral’s benefit. “If it would help reassure you, Colonel, you may use my DNA.” Mac looked up curiously at the woman. “DNA will show if the person you are looking for is a close relative of mine. I am sure it will show that Bahriim is not who you think he is.”  “I appreciate the offer. We’ll let you know.” Mac twisted her rings more feverishly. For whatever reason, she was no longer sure she wanted to know. “Colonel, if I may be so personal, are you sure this is not your husband’s child?” “Yes. Harm, my husband, and I have only been together a few months.  He considers this our child despite knowing differently.” “Your husband’s name is Harm?” Mac nodded her head, still nervously fiddling with her jewelry. “He is the same man that was with you when you were captured, the man you also referred to as Commander?” Fashaad thought she remembered Mac referring to her cellmate as Harm. “That’s right,” Mac smiled. “But there was no personal history prior to your time in Afghanistan?” Mac shook her head no. “Then you have found a good man,” Fashaad smiled. Mac certainly couldn’t argue with that. She had found the very best, and this time she was going to hang on to him. Mac’s apartment Later that night “You sure you don’t want me to fix a snack?” Harm asked from beside the sofa. “I’m sure. I’m just not very hungry.” “Want to talk about it now?” Harm made himself comfortable on the couch next to Mac and pulled her up beside him. She was a little stiff, but after a few seconds she snuggled in under his arm. “Not much to tell.” Mac recounted almost word for word the afternoon’s conversation. “Did she happen to mention how she wound up near DC?” “As a matter of fact, she did. She arrived to stay with friends in New York and sent out applications and resumes to every major university she could think of, including Stanford and NYU.  Hopkins was the first to offer her a job.” Harm waited a few minutes to see if Mac was going to say anything else.  He hadn’t noticed that his one hand was resting flat on Mac’s tummy, his thumb rubbing gently back and forth.  It was a habit he had started that morning in the bathroom in Annapolis, and it had become his custom almost any time he sat near his wife. “When is she going to get tested?” Harm ventured. “I didn’t ask her to.” “Why not?” Harm didn’t understand. “I’m not as sure as I was that I want to know. Even if they ever catch him, no one is going to bring him to trial for what he did to me.  Look at what happened in Bosnia.  How many people have you seen tried for war crimes against women? Not many,” she answered for him. “There are other reasons.” “What?” Mac shifted her weight to look up at him. “Medical history.” Mac dropped back into the crook of Harm’s shoulder. He was right.  “I’ll call her in the morning.” “I’ll talk to the admiral. If she can be tested at NCIS, we’ll have the results more quickly.”  “Yeah, I guess so.”  Mac couldn’t forget all of Fashaad’s words. “She seems pretty sure Bahriim wasn’t involved.” “She’s probably clinging to the memory of who she thought her brother was.” “What if she’s right?” “What do you mean, what if she’s right?” Harm didn’t understand “Do we want to keep searching?  Keep dredging this up?” “We could have Fashaad look at the photos of the men rounded up the day we were rescued. Ask her for the names of those men who got away or accompanied Bahriim. Do you want to?” A slight chill rose up Harm's spine at the thought of finally having an answer to just how many more men had access to them, to Mac, in that cell. “I don’t know. Do you?” “Mac, you’re the only one who can make that choice, but to be perfectly honest, I don’t give a flying fig who it was.  As far as I’m concerned, this baby is mine.  Will I take a medical history in case this child ever needs to know anything? Yes.  Do I care if we ever know who it is? No.” Mac nodded her head into his shoulder. “When this is over, whatever the results, I don’t want to know any more.” Harm kissed the top of his wife’s head. “Okay.” JAG Headquarters Harm’s office One week later “Rabb,” Harm snapped into the phone. “Having one of those days?” Theresa Coulter’s voice came through the phone line. “Sorry, I’ve got a client who doesn’t understand the concept of ‘do not speak without your attorney present.’  If the courts don’t hang him from the nearest yardarm, I just might.” “Ouch.  Listen, I’m sorry I haven’t checked in with you guys sooner. How is Mac doing?” “No problem. She’s doing well, considering.  She and the baby are healthy and strong, and I get to tease her for craving raw string beans.” “You’re kidding?” “Nope, she eats ‘em like potato chips.” Harm couldn’t resist chuckling. He was trying not to tease Mac too badly about it, but every once in a while he couldn’t help himself. “I just got off the phone with Abby. I’m not sure if this is good or bad news, but I didn’t want you waiting for this to make its way back to you through channels.” “What is it?” “Bahriim is not a match for the samples I took.” “Are you sure?” Harm agreed with Terri, he wasn’t sure if this was good or bad news. “We ran the test twice just to confirm. I’m positive. There’s no way the body fluids I found on Mac’s clothes matched a relative of this woman.” “Thanks, Terri.  I’ll make sure Mac finds out.” “Make sure I’ve got enough warning for the baby shower, seeing as how I wasn’t included in the wedding,” Terri teased. “That’s a deal,” Harm smiled into the phone. “And thanks.” Hanging up the phone, Harm looked over towards Mac’s office. She had been more on edge the last few days than usual.  The sooner he told her, the better it would probably be.  Pushing away from his desk, he started out the door, forcing one foot in front of the other. “Got a minute?” He knocked on her doorframe. “Sure. What d’ya need?” Mac smiled, she’d had a pretty good day.  She’d managed to convince the court that her client was the victim of extenuating circumstances and gotten him off with half pay for three months. Not even a letter of reprimand. Harm closed the door, and leaned on the edge of her desk. “I just spoke to Terri.” Mac stiffened in her seat. “It’s not him, Mac.” “She’s sure?” “Positive.” “I guess that’s it then.  We’d better tell Fashaad.” Mac released her grip on the chair and flexed her fingers.  “I... I think I want to tell her in person.” “I’ll come with you,” Harm said immediately.  This time he wasn’t getting talked into waiting at home. Chapter 30 Fashaad Sharrif‘s apartment Baltimore Maryland 1815 hours Mac knocked on the door. She had no idea why it was suddenly so important for her to face this woman one more time, but it was.  As the door swung open, Mac found herself blindly reaching behind her in search of Harm’s hand.  They were both in uniform, but she didn’t care. “Hello,” the high voice greeted from behind the partly open door. “I’m Lt. Colonel MacKenzie. Is your mother home?”  “Please come in.” “Colonel, this is a surprise.” Fashaad appeared behind her son. “I tried phoning, but the department secretary said you’d already gone for the day.” “No problem.  I haven’t seen any need to bother having a phone here at home, but I think I may have to join the modern age of communication and dinnertime sales calls,” Fashaad joked. Waving Mac into the living room, she extended her hand to Harm. “I can see married life agrees with you.” “Yes, it does,” Harm smiled back at the gracious woman, then extended his hand to her son.  “I’m Harmon Rabb.” “Rajhid,” the young man answered. He stood slightly taller than his mother, his youthful features the only indication of his age. There was a hardness in his eyes Harm hadn’t expected. As everyone took their seats, Rajhid turned to his mom. “If you’ll excuse me. I have homework.” Nodding her understanding to her son, she turned to her company. “Would you like some tea, or perhaps something cool to drink?” “No, thank you.” Mac waved, Harm shook his head. “Then, tell me what brings you all the way from Washington?” “We received the results of the DNA samples. You were correct. Your brother is not a match.” Mac began fidgeting with her rings again. “Is this a relief to you?” “I don’t know,” Mac answered honestly. JAG Headquarters Three months later Harriet screeched, “Oh, my gosh!” and every head in the bullpen turned.  Mac debated if it was anything worth her attention when the obvious commotion in the bullpen prompted her to get up and go see what had happened. “And speak of the devil,” Harm announced as Mac approached. “Gunny!” Mac extended her hand. “Good to see you.” “Same here, ma’am. Both of you.” He nodded at her now largely protruding tummy. “Thanks, Gunny.” Mac was simply beaming. The month following the DNA testing of Bahriim’s sister had been a little rough, but once again she had slipped into a comfort mode.  Harm had developed a new routine of reading to Mac’s belly every night before going to sleep from the Master and Commander books.  He’d also bought every sporting good known to man when the doctor revealed the baby was a boy.  Mac couldn’t help but get caught up in his enthusiasm.  By the time they’d found the perfect house a few weeks later, Mac had almost forgotten why she had ever had any doubts. “I was just telling Gunny here that his leave is perfect timing to help move into the new house.” Harm patted Gunny on the shoulder. “Not going home to New Mexico?” “Yes, ma’am, but I had a few things to take care of here. Some people I want to see, check up on.” “How long will you be here?” “A few days.” Smiling brightly at her, he added, “Long enough to help with the move.” Fashaad Sharrif’s apt Baltimore Maryland “Gunny, it is good to see you again.” Fashaad welcomed the helpful Marine into her home. “How are you and the boy doing? Adapting well to the big city?” “I must admit, this is not California,” Fashaad laughed. “How does Rajhid like it?” Gunny took a seat across from his hostess. “Is he making good friends?” “He is doing as well as can be expected. It is slow making friends, but there are one or two boys he spends some time with. He will continue to adapt.” “Good, I’m glad to hear that. Is he home?” “No, he should be back any minute. He went downstairs to give the Super the rent money. I’m surprised you didn’t see each other, but I’m glad. I have been a little worried. I don’t think it’s anything very serious, but ever since the colonel and her husband came to see me I can sometimes see he is troubled by something. Perhaps you could see if he will tell you?” “I don’t know if it will do any good, but I’d be happy to see what I can find out.”  Gunny hadn’t given a second thought to who the colonel and her husband might be. “Thank you,” Fashaad smiled, turning at the sound of her son coming through the front door. “GUNNY!” Rajhid rushed into the room. “I told you I’d come by on my next leave. Your mom says things are going well for you?” Rajhid nodded. “I shall make us some tea, yes?” the petite woman smiled. “Thank you,” Gunny agreed. “For a kid who has discovered the joys of X-box, you don’t look very happy.” Gunny sat back down. Rajhid laughed. Gunny was right. He did indeed enjoy playing the video games.  “It was hard at first. The children didn’t seem to like me very much, but it’s better now.” “Things always are with time. I told you life would be better for you and your mom here.”   Gunny Galindez had returned to the small village on reports that potential informants were being assassinated by Bahriim and his remaining henchmen.  It was Rajhid who’d approached Gunny with the possibility that his mother might be willing to help in exchange for asylum in the United States.  Gunny had been assigned to escort Rajhid and his mom to the State Department in Kabul. They had become friends in that short time. “I have something that puzzles me,” Rajhid ventured tenuously. Gunny raised his chin, gesturing for the boy to go ahead. “You told me that the people my uncle took prisoner were good people. You said they were loyal, faithful and would always be truthful and honest with my people.  I remember you told me you would trust them with your life.” “That’s right. They are two of the best officers I have ever served with.”  Gunny wasn’t sure where his young friend was going with this. “If he, the officer, is so right in your eyes, why did he lie to my uncle?” “What do you mean lie to your uncle?” “My uncle would help with my schoolwork. He often said education was the key to being a good leader. Sometimes he would let me go with him when he did his business, teach me how to manage my people.” Gunny’s eyes grew wide. It hadn’t occurred to anyone to question Rajhid about what he might know, only his mother. “He was very angry with the commander and the colonel. They would not tell him what he wanted to know.  I would hear him yelling at his men that they insisted they were only lawyers and did not know the plans for the troops.” “That’s correct. They work here in DC.” “Yes, I met them.” “You did?” Gunny seemed surprised at that, but then on second thought, it shouldn’t have. They must have been the colonel and her husband that Fashaad referred to earlier. He should have known once the commander and colonel heard about Fashaad being in the US, they would want to question her themselves. He hadn’t been told much about the colonel and commander’s imprisonment, but he knew they’d want to face one of their captors if they could. Even if it was an unwilling participant. “They’re married.” “Yes, they are.” Gunny still didn’t see where this was going. “Then he lied. Your honest man, the best the United States military has, lied. I heard him myself.”                                                                       BACK          NEXT                                                                  HOME