Chapter 1
Bethesda Naval Hospital
Harm sat in the waiting room of the Bethesda Naval Hospital, leaning forward in his chair, his face buried in his
hands. Lieutenant Roberts ... Bud ... that kind good-natured man who was like a younger brother to him now lay on the table in the operating room surrounded by a group of people in scrubs who were desperately trying to save what was left of the Lieutenant's leg. The news of Bud's injury reached them on the carrier. He remembered standing outside, leaning on the rail as he watched the planes take off for another mission. He
felt a presence behind him and turned surprised to see Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie come out on the deck behind him.
"Mac, what are you--?" he stopped abruptly, his heart sinking when he noticed how pale she looked. "What is it, Mac? What's wrong?" he remembered asking, and then she told him, and then his world froze... Vaguely, he remembered the ride back to Washington, Mac's small and slightly trembling hand holding his, the mad rush through the corridors of the naval hospital, the desperate questions, the indefinite answers, and, finally, the wait ... the long and arduous wait during which his mind made countless desperate attempts to comprehend, to
reason out why this happened and failed miserably every time.
A light touch on his shoulder broke the maddening train of thought, and Harm looked up to see Mac standing beside him. "Harriet and the Admiral are on their way," she said quietly, and he nodded, wincing inwardly at the thought of the kind of hell Harriet must be going to through at this moment.
"He'll be okay," Mac whispered with forced confidence in a vain attempt to ease his mind, but her dark eyes bore into his begging for reassurance that she herself had tried to give to him.
Harm rose swiftly, drawing her into his arms, feeling her cling desperately to him as her last vestiges of self-control slipped away. They remained standing there, drawing comfort from each other's embrace, as she cried softly against his chest and he held her even tighter, whispering the same words into her hair like a mantra, "He'll be all right ... he'll be all right .. he'll be all right."
They were still clinging to each other when the haggard-looking Harriet Sims burst through the doors of the
waiting room with the no less haggard-looking Admiral on her heels. "Where is he?" she shrieked, but before either of the pair had a chance to respond or even to pull away from each other's embrace, the door to the operating room opened, and Harriet rushed down the hallway to intercept the exiting surgeon.
"Doctor, I'm Lieutenant Roberts'..."
"I think I have a pretty good idea who you are, Ma'am," the man in scrubs said tiredly, running a hand over his eyes. "Your husband lost a lot of blood," he continued in the same weary voice, as Harriet gasped audibly, her face growing even paler, "but we were able to repair the damage to ... what was left of his leg." The doctor paused, looking squarely into the young woman's eyes. "He will make a full recovery, Ma'am," he said with as much conviction as he could muster in his exhausted state. "They are finishing patching him up in there," he added lightly. "You will be able to see him soon." The doctor squeezed her shoulder in a gesture of
reassurance and walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of the hallway, shaking with fear and relief.
"Why?" she whispered to no one in particular, as her friends slowly approached from behind. "Why did it have to be him?"
"Harriet..." Harm began, gently touching her shoulder in an effort to calm the distraught woman.
But she whirled unexpectedly, pushing away his outstretched hand, her blue eyes flaring up in sudden anger. "Don't 'Harriet' me, Sir!" she exploded, as he stepped back involuntarily, surprised by her outburst. "He should have stayed on the ship; he shouldn't
have gone anywhere near the minefield! He's not like you! He's just a lawyer ... It shouldn't have been him out there ... If
anyone ... if anyone should've been in his place, it should've been ..." Harriet stopped abruptly, and her hand flew to her
mouth at the realization of what she was saying. "Oh, God, Sir ... I ... I didn't ..."
"It's okay, Lieutenant," Harm breathed out. In the course of her tirade, his face has grown whiter than the walls of the surrounding hospital hallway, and at her last comment, the tall Navy Commander swayed slightly as if from a blow. "I know you didn't mean it." He forced a weak smile on his lips, feeling an overwhelming need to get out of that building. "If you'll all excuse me," he muttered, "I'm gonna get some air."
"Ma'am, what have I done?" Harriet wailed, looking at Harm's retreating figure. Mac made a move to run after him, but stopped, thinking that he needed some time alone. "He knows you're hurting, Harriet. I'm sure he understands," she reasoned as much for her own benefit as for the Lieutenant's.
* * *
Several hours later, when darkness descended upon the city, and the halls of the Bethesda hospital became deserted deprived of their daytime visitors, Lt. Harriet Sims sat quietly at her husband's bedside. A myriad of thoughts were running through her mind: baby A.J. whom she left for a whole day in the care of the babysitter, the look of raw unadulterated pain in Commander Rabb's eyes when she said those awful things to him, the worry on Colonel MacKenzie's face as she watched her partner walk away, a worry which echoed in the frown of her commanding officer.... But her thoughts kept coming back to the man who lay in bed before her. Sighing, she leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her husband's forehead.
"You gotta wake up for me, Sweetie. Please, wake up."
A lone figure stood outside the room in the empty hallway. The man whose tall frame usually towered over his surroundings now seemed fragile and small. Quietly holding the door ajar, he looked inside, his eyes taking in the tired and grief-stricken face of the wife, the pale and unresponsive features of the husband. Just as quietly he closed the door and exhaled deeply, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He leaned back against the wall, his head coming to a sharp rest against its white surface. "I'm sorry," he mouthed, ignoring a twinge of pain at the back of his head. "I am so sorry..."
A short time later, Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. left the dimly lit hospital hallway and stepped onto the street that has already fully surrendered to the night. And the darkness swallowed him whole.