Chapter 8
Admiral Chegwidden's office
"You look like hell, Colonel," was Admiral Chegwidden's blunt appraisal of her disheveled appearance.
It was an early Monday morning, too early, in fact, for the start of the workday, and the JAG headquarters were empty and quiet, save for the three people in the Admiral's office.
Seeing Mac's dejected look in response to his statement, A.J. decided to shift gears.
"Well," he began, turning to the CIA agent, "you dragged us out here at the crack of dawn. What do you have?"
Webb looked closely at the older man, noting the intense worry and hope that he tried to conceal behind a mask of sternness.
Clayton bit his lip. Did he have the right to give them hope, any hope? The news he had weren't exactly hopeful.
"I spoke to my contact in Afghanistan," he began, coughing, as he found his voice too hoarse to speak. Feeling their intense stares upon him, he licked his lips nervously before continuing. "He heard rumors of an American pilot being held in the caves not far from Kabul."
"Is it Harm?" Sarah asked weakly.
Clay shrugged. "We don't know for sure � but he matches the description." He was about to add something else, when Mac interrupted him.
"When do we leave?"
"I only found out a couple of hours ago myself," Clay raised his hand in a placating gesture. "I haven't called anybody yet, except you two. Besides, what is this 'we' you're talking about?"
Mac's temper flared. "You don't expect me to just sit here and do nothing while --?" A gentle but firm hand on her shoulder
interrupted her tirade, and she looked up, meeting the reassuring gaze of her commanding officer.
"The Colonel is right, Webb. We have both been sitting on our asses for nearly 3 months. It's time to go get the Commander back." He nodded at the phone on his desk. "I can arrange for a SEAL team to meet us down there."
Webb bowed his head in resignation. "Very well. I'll see you down there then."
"You're going?"
"Harm's my friend too, A.J. And I'm responsible for his being down there." With that he turned and walked out the door.
"He's hurting," Sarah commented matter-of-factly, watching the door close behind Clayton Webb.
The Admiral nodded pensively, his eyes watching her intently. "So are you, Colonel." She glanced up at his words, and he was startled by the haunted look in her dark eyes. "Sit down, Mac," he offered softly, pointing to a chair. She complied wordlessly, arms wrapped tightly around her forearms. For a moment, it seemed to A.J. that were she to loosen her grip, she'd fall apart right here before him. Little did he know that he wasn't far off the mark -- for holding herself together seemed to Sarah Mackenzie at the moment like something from Mission Impossible.
"Talk to me, Mac," his voice was gentle and caring, and Sarah fought the urge to run into his arms.
"I've been having nightmares, Sir," she managed, her voice shaky.
"How long?"
"Ever since ... Harm went down."
A.J. nodded sympathetically, sitting down on the edge of the desk in front of her. Leaning slightly forward, he willed her to continue.
"They were ... vague at first." She inhaled nervously, digging her fingers deeper into her flesh.
A.J. was silent, waiting patiently. After a few long minutes she continued, her voice dropping so low that the Admiral had to
strain to hear her next words. "Last night was ... I s-saw him ... being ... t-tortured." She squeezed her eyes shut, as the images assaulted her again. She felt the Admiral's hand on her shoulder and looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. Her lower lip trembled as she spoke.
"I s-saw blood ... so much ... blood... And I felt him, Sir ... It was like he called out to me. ... I felt his presence ... his pain ... horrible agonizing pain." She sniffled, lowering her gaze to the floor. "And then he was gone ... as if he were .."
She didn't finish, as her body was racked with silent sobs.
Wordlessly, A.J. stood up and pulled her into his arms. He held her small trembling form, as she sobbed quietly against his chest.
"We'll find him, Mac," he whispered soothingly. "Don't worry." The Admiral wasn't sure whom the words were meant to comfort, but it was important for her ... for both of them to believe that their friend was still alive. Maybe if they believed it strongly enough, it would come true....