Title: The Padre
Author: Lydia
Takes place: In "Salvation", after Palmer had his stroke thingy. When Clay's at
home, it's when Harm is taking Palmer and the Sgt. Major to Maryland.
"Commander..." Palmer fell over. Harm just stood there for a second. Then
he ran to the body on the floor. "Guard!!"
***
Clay walked up to Harm. In the room before them, Sgt. Major Krohn was
kneeling by the side of a bed, softly mumbling prayers out loud, his eyes
closed. Harm glanced at Clay. "What happened?" Clay asked. Harm shrugged.
"Some kind of stroke... the Sgt. Major's asking God to heal him..." Clay
shook his head slightly. He motioned to Harm with his head, and walked
away from the room. Harm followed him, glancing back at the kneeling
figure of Sgt. Major Krohn. Webb flashed his ID at the guard standing in
front of a doorway. The guard opened the door for him, and Harm followed
Webb in. The door closed behind them, and Webb sat down at the table in
the middle of the room. "Do you think he really had a stroke, Rabb?" Harm
shrugged and folded his arms. "I don't know... I don't see why he would,
unless something's been going on that they couldn't figure out here."
Clay rubbed his chin. "Whatever you do, Harm, don't trust him." Clay got
up and went out the door. By the time Harm got out, Webb had disappeared.
***
Clay got off the couch. He tried to start supper, but he couldn't help
worrying about Rabb. Clay sighed angrily at himself. He had been acting
like a wimp since he had left Leavenworth, worrying about Rabb... But
still, Palmer was up to something, and it wasn't just to get at Rabb...
He sucked in a breath and ran to the stove. He frowned at his ruined
stir-fry. He gave up on salvaging anything, and sent it down the garbage
disposal. Instead, he popped a frozen dinner in the microwave. Clay
looked at his watch. It was a little early for dinner, though. Quarter to
five... Clay shrugged and ate his supper. Fifteen minutes later, he had
crashed out on the couch. Waking up, he looked out the window at the dark
sky. He checked his watch again. Six already... He couldn't sit still...
Webb got up to go for a walk. For about thirty minutes, Clay walked
through town, and around a park. Clay pulled his coat around his neck,
against the chilly wind that had sprung up. He looked to his right as he
heard a clanging sound. A red light was coming from that direction too.
Curiously, he walked to the noise and lights. A train was rushing by, and
Clay could see that there was some car or another waiting on the other
side of the railroad crossing. Suddenly, a feeling of dread lodged itself
in Clay's throat. From his position, he could see the two men. The train
drove past, and the rails lifted. As the car drove through, Clay walked
forward, to meet it. He froze as the two men he had seen earlier whipped
out guns, and began to fire on the van. Clay froze. He could hear shouts
coming from the van, and tried to go help, but his legs seemed to be
encased in cement. He couldn't move. A figure in navy blues jumped out of
the van. Clay's mouth fell, and he couldn't breath. What was Rabb doing
here?! Suddenly, Harm fell over. At last, Clay was set free, and he
rushed over. Clay fell to his knees at Harm's side. He was dead... There
were at lease six bullet holes, smack dab in the middle of his chest.
Biting his lips, Clay checked for Harm's pulse anyway. Nothing... Clay
couldn't understand what was going on... Then he heard a voice from the
car. He looked over furiously. Palmer was there, lying on the floor of
the car. Sgt. Major Krohn was staring sadly and angrily at him. "You
didn't really see the Padre..." "Oh sure I did!" Palmer smiled up at him.
"Big fat guy, long beard, bag 'o toys-oh, wait... That was Santa Claus!"
As Clay flung himself at Palmer, a man holding a bible, wearing
fatigues, a helmet and glasses popped up from nowhere, and stared at
Clay. The whole world spun, and colored lights flashed. Clay gasped and
sat bolt upright on his couch. He tried to catch his breath as a wave of
dizziness washed over him. Clay rested his head on his knees, and took a
few deep breaths. Looking up, he reached for his phone. He quickly dialed
Harm's cell phone. "Rabb..." Clay smiled. Even though it was a dream,
still..."It's Webb... Where are you?" "I'm on my way to Maryland..." Clay
wiped his smile away. "Look, Harm... I just... Just be careful... If I
were you, I would expect anything to happen..." "Hey, you know me. Don't
worry, Webb, I won't lose Palmer. See you when we get back." Harm hung
up. Clay still had his own phone up to his ear. "Sure..." As Clay changed
from his sweaty shirt to a clean T-shirt, he muttered a quick prayer for
Harm to stay safe.
END