Gratitude
Part EIghteen
The moment Harmon Rabb had walked into his house a week ago, he had begun to realize that something was off with Mac. He had assumed at first it was the effect of her ever-fluctuating relationship with Harm. Then he thought it was him, they had been on edge around each other since he had refused to take Harm back at JAG. He had kept a watchful eye on her throughout the evening, and had been caught by surprise by her reaction to her co-workers. With the exception of Sturgis, with whom she seemed to be attached at the hip for the past few weeks, she had ignored their presence. Or rather, she had tried to pretend she hadn�t noticed when they ignored hers. They were obviously avoiding her, and when he had thought back over the time since her return, they had been avoiding her for weeks. All of the conversations that suddenly stopped, the hasty exits, the swallowed comments suddenly made sense. They were upset that Rabb was gone and taking it out on the Colonel. And it was quite plain that their actions were hurting her. Friends or not, Mac was still their superior officer and deserved their respect. He had just about decided to call them all into his office first thing Monday morning when he had noticed Harm moving in their direction. He wasn�t close enough to hear what was said, but whatever it was enough to reduce Harriet to tears and leave the rest of them with their heads hanging in shame. Whatever he�d said, it worked. Bud, Harriet, and Jen had all visited the Colonel�s office at some point on Monday, and from the looks of relief and guilt on their faces when they left, she had forgiven them. She was understandably still wary around them, but at least things were friendlier. A.J. thought that would be the end of it, but he�d figured out rather quickly that he was mistaken.
He had suspected something greater than the rift with her co-workers was wrong with Mac when he noticed that she almost never went anywhere without Rabb or Turner by her side. Harm brought to her work, always walking her to the entrance, and Turner walked her to her office. She ate lunch with Turner, and he followed her if she was ever out of his sight for more than ten minutes, unless she was in court. At the end of the day, he would walk with her to meet Rabb in the parking lot. When court had run late Wednesday, Harm had picked up a visitors pass and come up to her office to get her. Their behavior worried him, but not as much as Mac�s did. Instead of acting annoyed or irritated, she seemed to welcome their hovering. She seemed constantly on edge, as if she were waiting for the proverbial other shoe. Her work hadn�t suffered, but the office had. People were picking up on her tension, if only subconsciously, and it was throwing things even more off-kilter than they were because of Rabb�s departure. Between them, Harm and Mac were the glue that held the JAG family together. Losing Harm had been extremely difficult, but in a way they were used to it. He had left before; they had learned how to survive without him. But Mac was always there, had always been there. She was the reliable one, the one who followed orders, who kept the office together when it threatened to turn into chaos. Mac was the one who stayed. They couldn�t afford to lose both of them. And they weren�t going to lose Mac. Not if A.J. had anything to say about it. And as the Admiral, A.J. always had plenty to say.
He had come up with a plan last night to maneuver Mac into talking to him. He was going to order her to stay and help with the mountain of paperwork that had backed up in her absence. And then he was going to gently try and get her to open up to him. If that didn�t work, he would order her to tell him what was going on. So now he stood inside his office, just out of sight, and waited for his opportunity. He got it when he saw Turner stride out of his office and head for the elevators. He called out, �Commander Turner, a word please.�
Sturgis turned and headed quickly towards the Admiral�s office. Motioning him in, he gestured for Turner to take a seat. �How�s your case load, Commander?�
�Under control, sir,� Sturgis replied. �Is there a problem, sir?�
�I have a backlog of paperwork to go through with the Colonel that will take us well into the evening. I�d like you to take over whatever you can for her, so we can get started as quickly as possible.� A.J. said, catching the look of panic that flashed in Turner�s eyes. �Gotcha� he thought.
�Uh, yes sir. Sir, is the Colonel aware of the situation?� He asked somewhat hesitantly.
A.J. maintained an air of indifference, �Not yet. I�ll inform her when she arrives. Why, do you foresee a problem, Commander?�
Sturgis paused for a moment, then nodded, �Actually, yes sir. The Colonel mentioned to me that she had a rather important meeting this evening right after work. I�m actually driving her to that meeting.�
�Is it work related? Something you could take over for her?�
�No, sir. It isn�t. It�s a personal meeting, sir.� Sturgis was clearly uncomfortable with the whole discussion.
�Well then it can be rescheduled,� A.J. said sternly, only to have Turner shake his head.
�I don�t believe that would be a good idea, sir. It�s important that the Colonel take care of this matter as soon as possible. From what I�ve been led to believe, sir,� he added hastily.
�What exactly is this meeting, Commander? Since it�s apparent that you�re well-informed about the situation,� he glared at the younger man.
�I can�t say, sir,� Sturgis responded firmly.
�Can�t or won�t, Commander?� When Sturgis didn�t answer, the Admiral exploded. �Damn it, Commander! I�m not blind! Something�s going on with Mac and you know what it is. And you are damn well going to tell me. That�s an order!�
Sturgis just stood there, silent, throughout the Admiral�s tirade. And when it was over, he stayed silent. A.J. started to work himself into a full-fledged eruption when he noticed Turner�s expression. Most people who faced down the Admiral, or got dressed down by him, fixed their gaze straight ahead. Sometimes to hide fear, sometimes anger. But they always kept their eyes, and by extension their thoughts, hidden. But Sturgis was staring right at him, hiding nothing. He was going to disobey this order, and there was no guilt or remorse in his eyes. A.J. wasn�t sure how to handle this. Commander Sturgis Turner was a man who followed the rules. More than anyone in the office, more even than the Admiral, Sturgis did what the Navy told him to do, no matter what. If he was willing to disobey an order, then whatever was wrong was much worse than A.J. imagined. And as much as he wanted to know what it was, he was going to have to back off for now.
�It�s that bad.� Not a question, but a statement of fact. Sturgis hesitated, then nodded his head just a fraction. It was the only answer he was going to get. A.J. sighed before straightening his posture, falling into the role of C.O. once more, �Very well, Commander. I�ll delay going over the paperwork with the Colonel until Monday so that she can attend her...appointment.�
�Thank you, sir,� Turner�s voice was carefully neutral, �Is there anything else you need, sir?�
A.J.�s eyes hardened, �Yes, there is. I need you to understand that I am stepping back from this situation for now because I trust you and the Colonel are handling it the way you think best. However, if the Colonel�s appointment this evening doesn�t go well, you WILL come to me. No questions, no arguments, no choice. Is that understood, Commander?�
Turner nodded, �Yes, sir. Understood, sir.�
�Then you are dismissed,� A.J. motioned to the door and Sturgis left as rapidly as decorum allowed. As the door shut on the Commander�s retreating form, A.J. dropped his head into his hands. �Damn,� the word came out more as a sigh than an exclamation, �What the hell is going on?�
JAG Headquarters
Mac sighed as she saw Harm enter the bullpen, visitor�s badge firmly in place. He wasn�t supposed to pick her up tonight and he knew it. They had decided that Sturgis would be the one to drive her to his father�s. Well, she had decided and then spent an hour convincing him to go along with it. As much as she might want him there for support, it would be too difficult on both of them. Harm�s nerves were stretched almost as tightly as hers. They had spent most of the week together, silently agreeing to table any serious discussion until after her meeting with Chaplain Turner. She just wasn�t capable of delving into the various twists and turns of their relationship at this point. She was in an almost constant state of anxiety. She continually felt as though she was being watched. She hadn�t had any panic attacks, but she knew that was only because she never felt secure enough to allow her adrenaline levels to come down. The only times she felt even remotely at ease were when she was at JAG or her apartment. At JAG she felt safe because there were armed Marines surrounding her. At her apartment she felt safe because Harm�s arms were surrounding her. Although he had agreed not to talk, nothing could stop him from touching her. And he did so almost constantly when they were alone. Holding her hand, stroking her hair, massaging shoulders tight from all of the stress, falling asleep cradling her in his arms; it had all become commonplace over the past week. It was a level of comfort they�d never had before, and it was one they both needed desperately. He wouldn�t say anything to her, but Mac knew Harm was as scared as she was. And the only thing either one of them could think to do was hold on tightly and wait.
�Hey, Marine,� Harm said softly from the door of her office, �Are you ready?� His cheerful voice couldn�t hide the seriousness of the question.
She smiled bravely, �As ready as I can be, I guess. I just have to wait for Bud to bring in some papers for my signatures. But, Harm, I thought we�d agreed that you didn�t need to pick me up tonight.�
Harm nodded, �We did, and I�m not. I just wanted to...confirm our plans for later,�
Mac�s eyes misted. He just wanted to let her know he�d be waiting. �That was very thoughtful. I really appreciate it,� She bit her lower lip, �Harm, maybe I should just drive myself to my meeting. Sturgis could go with you, and that way you wouldn�t have to wait alone.�
Harm shook his head vehemently, �Absolutely not. You shouldn�t go alone, Mac. I�ll be fine until you get there,� he added unconvincingly.
Mac was about to protest when Bud showed up, �I�m sorry to interrupt ma�am, but you said you wanted these as soon as they were ready. Hi sir...Harm,� he added nervously.
�I did. Thank you, Bud,� Mac smiled to put him at ease. Although he had come in and apologized to her first thing Monday morning, the strain on their friendship was still apparent. Bud felt guilty for his behavior, and was worried that too much damage had been done to their friendship. Mac knew he would keep his distance until she made some overture to let him know things were okay, but she didn�t have any idea how to do that. Until just now, that is.
�Bud, are you by any chance free tonight?� she asked as she began to sign off on the forms he handed her.
�Yes, ma�am. In fact, I was going to be by myself tonight. Harriet�s going to a �no men allowed� thing with a friend of hers who�s also pregnant, and A.J. is with her parents for the weekend. So if you need me to stay late, that�s no problem, ma�am,� he said somewhat eagerly.
She smiled at him fondly. Whatever happened between them, in the end Bud was still Bud. �Actually, Bud, I was wondering if you wanted to join us tonight. We�re meeting at a little jazz club near Dupont Circle later on. I�d love for you to join us.�
Mac wasn�t sure who was more surprised by the invitation, Bud or Harm. Bud stared at her for a minute, then said unsurely, �Are you sure you�d want me there, ma�am? I mean, you don�t have to invite me just because I�m going to be by myself tonight, or because...�he trailed off for a moment, �I mean...it�s just...I wouldn�t want to intrude, ma�am,� he blurted out.
�You wouldn�t be intruding, Bud. In fact, you�d be doing me a favor,� she replied, �Harm�s going to be there alone for awhile, while Sturgis drives me to an appointment. It would make me feel better knowing you�d be there to keep him company.� She paused for a moment, and then added seriously, �There are things I need to tell you about, Bud. Some explanations I need to give. No,� she cut off his and Harm�s instinctive protests, �I need for you to understand what�s going on, Bud. I have a bad feeling things are going to get really...complicated soon, and I need to know you�re ready to deal with them.� Her voice lowered, �I need to know I can count on you, Bud.�
His voice was choked but he answered sincerely, �You can count on me, ma�am. For anything. I know that I...� he looked down as he cleared his throat. Squaring his shoulders, he met her gaze, �Where did you say we were going, ma�am?�
Chaplain Turner�s Residence
Sturgis pulled the car into his father�s driveway, and turned off the ignition. Shifting in his seat, he saw Mac still staring blindly out the passenger window. He had walked into her office to find her giving Bud directions to the club they were meeting at. After Bud left to finish up with his work, he and Harm had both turned to her for an explanation. She had shrugged, telling them that she thought she could use all the help she could get at this point. She had started to tremble as she quietly asked Harm if he could tell Bud what was happening before she got there. Her walls were crumbling and she was starting to collapse under the strain. Ignoring protocol and all the people staring at them through her open blinds, she had moved over to Harm and hugged him fiercely. Harm had held on just as tight, murmuring reassurances as he gently stroked her back to calm her down. When she had loosened her grip a little, he told her he would tell Bud everything he could and not to worry about anything. Giving her one last hard squeeze, he had wished her luck and rushed out of the office before anyone could see him lose control. Mac had wiped the tears from her face, given Sturgis a shaky smile and told him she was ready. And had been completely silent from that point on. Reaching out, he gently touched her shoulder. �Mac, we�re here.�
She turned to him, startled. Realizing where they were, she took a deep breath and nodded, �Let�s go.�
Chaplain Turner had the door opened by the time they reached the porch. He ushered them both inside. Reaching out, he embraced Sturgis. �Good to see you, son,� he said warmly, �Now go away.�
�What?� Sturgis protested, �Dad, I don�t think that�s a good idea.�
�And that�s why you�re the son, and I�m the father,� the chaplain held up his hand, �No, Sturgis. Mac has things she needs to tell me. And she needs to do it in her own way, at her own pace. She doesn�t need you standing over her, hovering, interjecting, interrupting, or otherwise �helping�. Which means that you need to turn around, walk back out that door and find something that will occupy your time for the next hour. Make that an hour and a half.�
�Your father�s right, Sturgis. I think it�ll be easier if it�s just the two of us. Go get something to eat. And try not to worry?� Mac walked over and gave him a reassuring hug, then shoved him gently towards the door. �Now, you heard your father. Go away, Commander Turner.�
Sturgis looked from Mac to his father and then back to Mac. Sighing, he reached out and squeezed her shoulder, �All right. You win. I�m going. But I�ll be back in ninety minutes, okay?� she nodded solemnly. Turning to his father, �Take care of her, dad. See you soon.� He walked over to the door and headed out. At the last minute, he looked over his shoulder and called out, �And don�t let her bully you, Dad. You know how Marines are.� Mac promptly stuck her tongue out, even though he couldn�t see it. �Don�t stick your tongue out at me, Colonel,� he added without looking back. He quickly shut the door behind him.
Once he was gone, Mac turned nervously to Chaplain Turner. She began to speak nervously, �So, what happens now? I mean, do we just sit down and I start telling you how I�m going crazy, or do you need to ask me questions first? I�m not exactly used to this.�
Turner smiled reassuringly, �What happens now is that we go over and sit on those nice comfortable chairs and have some tea so you can relax a little. After that, we�ll see how it goes.� He reached for her arm and led her into the living room. Motioning for her to sit, he handed her a cup of tea. She grasped it tightly with both hands to control her slight trembling. Her posture remained tense as she perched on the edge of the chair.
�Mac, you don�t have to be nervous. We�re just going to talk for a while. Nothing else.� Not seeing any change in her demeanor, he continued, �I have a proposition for you. How about you sit here and drink your tea, and I�ll start the conversation by telling you what I already know about the situation. Then, you can tell me what I�ve got right, and wrong, and start filling in the blanks with whatever you want me to know. Does that sound reasonable?� Mac nodded shakily. Giving her another small smile, he leaned back in his chair with his own cup of tea. After taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he began his narrative.
�This is what I know,� he said calmly. �You were sent on a mission for the C.I.A. to help track down a terrorist. While you were there, you were captured. As was your friend, Mr. Webb, who was tortured for information. Harm found out about this, and when he was denied permission to come after you, he resigned his commission. He followed you to South America, got you away from the terrorists and the two of you completed the mission. You crashed in the jungle, but made it back to the city in relatively one piece. You went after the terrorist but didn�t catch him. During that time, you and Harm shared a number of what Sturgis calls �pointless rounds in the great Rabb/Mackenzie prizefight�. After which you both retreated from each other. You made it home, only to find out that the Admiral wasn�t going to give Harm his job back. That night, my son went to check on Harm, found him drunk and bitter about the way things turned out. He listened to Harm�s side of the story and promptly condemned you before hearing your side. Then he opened his big mouth at work and managed to get the whole office mad at you. A few days later, the boy�s brain and his heart caught up with his mouth and he realized that he�d messed things up. He also realized you were having some kind of difficulties. He attempted to help you deal with whatever was wrong. At some point in this timeline, you and Harm declared a truce and mended some fences. You told him what was going on, and the three of you tried to figure out what was wrong, coming up with the possible diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Needing to confirm this, and not wanting to deal with a stranger, you came to me. And here we are.�
Mac sat there stunned. The chaplain had just managed to sum up the last few months of her life in minutes. Hearing it recited back to her made her realize just how much she�d been through since leaving for Paraguay. It was also immensely reassuring to hear him say it so matter-of-factly. He gave her hope that whatever had been happening to her could be fixed. Relaxing just a little, she said, �That is actually pretty much everything. And surprisingly accurate. It sounds like the only thing Sturgis didn�t tell you was exactly what happened that led him to believe something was wrong.�
�No, he didn�t,� Turner agreed, �He said he told you he wouldn�t say anything to anyone and he wouldn�t violate that trust. Which is a good thing, because I�d rather hear about it from you. Can you tell me what�s been happening?�
Mac hesitated. She knew this was what she needed to do, why she came here, but it was still so difficult. Opening up at all was a struggle for her, and this was much bigger than that. Sensing her ambivalence, Turner said, �Take all the time you need. And if there�s something else you�d feel more comfortable talking about in the meantime, you go right ahead.�
She glanced at the hands held tightly in her lap. It would be easier to talk about something else, but in the end it would only delay the inevitable. Better to jump right in and get it over with. �Suck it up, Marine.� Taking a deep breath, she launched directly into the heart of the matter. It took forty-two minutes to tell the chaplain everything. She left nothing out, relaying every detail she could remember from the moment she woke up in Saddiq�s compound. Every moment of panic, every flashback, every nightmare; it all came spilling out of her in a torrent of words and emotions. Somewhere along the line she had begun to cry, he had handed her a box of tissues but didn�t interrupt. When she reached the end, her head ached and her throat burned from talking through the tears. She was shaky and upset, and strangely relieved. For the first time, she had gotten it all out at once. Most of it she had told to either Harm or Sturgis, or both, but this was the first time she had told the whole thing to one person. It eased the bands of tension holding her just a little.
Chaplain Turner just sat there for a moment, giving her the chance to regain her composure. Once she got her breathing under control, he reached out and took both of her hands. Waiting until she met his gaze, he said firmly, �Mac, you are not crazy. I�m sure of that.�
Mac started to cry all over again. Harm and Sturgis had told her the same thing repeatedly, and she had wanted to believe them, but she couldn�t quite manage it. Now, hearing it from the chaplain, she finally could. She struggled to get herself under control. When she did, Turner spoke again.
�You also are not suffering from PTSD. I�m sure of that, as well.�
Mac was confused. �I don�t understand. What else could it be? I mean, the flashbacks and the panic attacks, and the nightmares, aren�t those all symptoms of PTSD?�
�Yes, those are all symptoms. And if you were exhibiting those symptoms, I would say you were suffering from Post Traumatic Stress. But you�re not.�
Now Mac was completely confused, and starting to get agitated, �What do you mean? I don�t understand what you�re trying to say.�
�Let me explain,� Turner said calmly, �Let�s start with what you�ve been calling flashbacks. Examine them closely; are any of them memories of something that happened, in Paraguay or D.C.? Are any of them memories at all?�
She thought for a moment and realized he was right and they weren�t memories at all. �No, none of them. I mean, I thought the one in my office was. But looking back at it, I couldn�t identify any of those voices or images as being familiar. That was part of what made it so frightening, that I didn�t know what I was seeing.�
Turner nodded, �What about the nightmares? You described the one about the faceless man to me. Obviously, that one isn�t a memory. Were there any other nightmares that were?�
�No, the only dream I remember is that one,� Mac was beginning to see where he was headed. �But if they weren�t flashbacks, what were they? And what about the panic attacks?�
�The panic attacks would be the only thing that would lead me to a diagnosis of PTSD. Feeling �overly alert� is one of the symptoms. But Mac, as far as I can see that is the only symptom you have. Yes, you have trouble sleeping, but from what you�ve said, you always have. And considering the status of the important relationships in your life, I would be surprised if you were able to sleep peacefully. And with the exception of your confrontation with Admiral Chegwidden, which was understandable if not advisable, you haven�t been prone to angry outbursts or bouts of irritability. Have you?�
She smiled wryly, �No more so than normal, I guess.�
He answered her smile with one of his own before going on, �Your work hasn�t suffered, you are still able to do your job. Sturgis was quite clear about that. You didn�t withdraw from family and friends, they withdrew from you. And as your relationships with them have begun to mend, you�ve taken them into your confidence. You remember the details of what happened in Paraguay. You aren�t suppressing or avoiding anything. You�ve spent time with both Harm and Mr. Webb without being overwhelmed by memories or having any intense physical reactions. Your emotions are in control as much as they can be considering the instability of your life. You haven�t given up any life goals as a result of what happened.�
At that, Mac interrupted, �Actually I�m not sure that�s true. I gave up on a future with Harm as a result of what happened. I kept hearing that voice tell me it was too late.�
�From what I know of your relationship, you gave up on a future with Harm as a result of eight years of turmoil and heartache, not because of Paraguay. Or of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. That voice was probably a mixture of fatigue and anger,� he said, then he grinned knowingly, �And if you really believed in your heart that it was too late for you and Harm, I don�t think you�d have fallen asleep in his arms every night for the past week.� He chuckled as Mac blushed. He grew serious, �Mac, a person with PTSD will exhibit most, if not all, of these symptoms. No one would make a diagnosis of PTSD unless you exhibited several symptoms in several different categories for an extended period of time. I�m not saying that nothing is wrong, but I am saying that PTSD is not the problem.�
�Then what is?� Mac was starting to feel unsettled again, �If it�s not Post Traumatic Stress and I�m not crazy, what�s wrong with me?�
�I�m not completely sure, but if I had to make a guess at this point, I�d say extreme physical and emotional stress. Almost every foundation in your life has been shaken, if not disappeared entirely. You went through untold stress in Paraguay, and came back to more stress. Every relationship you have has been turned on its ear. Your professional and personal lives are in upheaval. Quite frankly, Colonel, if you said you were feeling stable at all, I�d say you were lying. And then I would worry about your mental state.�
�So what do I do?� Mac asked, �If the answer is that simple, how do I fix things? Or do I let them fix themselves?�
�Most things don�t fix themselves without a little outside help. And I didn�t say the answer was simple, because it isn�t,� Turner cautioned, �You are suffering severe emotional distress, Mac. And if it�s not treated, you could still break down. I�m also worried about these episodes you called flashbacks. Stress, extreme or not, doesn�t manifest itself in visions of loved ones being covered in blood. I�m inclined to think that there�s something more going on here than just stress. But it will take time to uncover what that is.� Mac started to tense again and he hastened to reassure her, �I think we can figure out what�s happening, but it won�t be overnight. You have a great many things to deal with, and my recommendation would be that you take some time to begin the process of healing. I think you should ask for leave, immediately. You won�t be able to find the clarity and peace you need if you spend every day in the very situations that are causing your problems. I�m not saying you need to leave town, but you do need to be away from JAG at the very least. Do you have any leave on the books?�
�Quite a bit, actually. But I�m not sure I can use it,� she added, �Between Singer�s death, Harm�s incarceration and resignation, and my TAD assignment, JAG is extremely backlogged. I don�t think the Admiral will agree to give me leave. What do I do if that happens?�
�That�s up to you, Mac. You can always get authorized for medical leave,� he saw her immediately dismiss the idea and warned her, �You have to consider these alternatives, Mac. If you don�t deal with this, you�ll most likely end up on medical leave anyway. And it will be much worse. You have to consider whether keeping your career is worth risking your sanity.�
Mac didn�t know what to say. The Corps had been her life for so long. It had always been the one thing she could count on. If she took medical leave, the stigma alone would end her career. She�d rather resign her commission. And how would she survive that?
It was at that moment that Sturgis made his reappearance. Sensing the tension, he asked cautiously, �Do I need to come back?�
Mac shook her head, cutting off the swirling questions. �No, Sturgis, you�re right on time.� She smiled, �Actually, you�re three minutes and forty-two seconds late. We�re done here for now.�
Sturgis looked suspiciously at her before turning a questioning glance on his father. Chaplain Turner just nodded solemnly, �The Colonel�s right. We�ve done what we can for tonight. You think about what I said, and call me when you�ve come to a decision.� He reached out and embraced her lightly. �Things will be all right, Mac, but you have to believe that. And you have to decide what�s important. No one can do that for you. Now, why don�t you and Sturgis go find Harm and try to enjoy the rest of your night?"
Harm. She was going to see Harm. Her mind latched onto that thought like a life preserver as she and Sturgis moved to leave. He would help her find the answers she needed. He would help her find a way to fix this without resigning her commission. She stopped mid-stride.
Harm had resigned his commission to try and fix this for her. He had given up his career because he hadn�t seen any other choice. And he was surviving. Sure, he didn�t have everything all figured out. He was most likely going to be unemployed again soon, when he either quit the Agency or got fired. But he still had his home, his family, his friends, himself. And he still had her. For the first time, she truly understood what Harm had done, and why. And she knew that if she had to, she could do the same.
�Mac, is everything alright?� Sturgis asked when she didn�t move.
She looked up at him and smiled a little, �No, Sturgis, it�s not. Whatever�s wrong with me is still here, and I still don�t know what it is,� she looked over at Chaplain Turner and her smile got a little bigger, �But I finally know what I�m willing to do to find out.�
Friday
JAG Headquarters
0625 EST
A.J. Chegwidden was not a man who got where he was by being unobservant. He prided himself on always knowing what was going on with his people, whether they wanted him to or not. Somewhere over the past year, though, he had lost control of it all, his people, his office, and as a result, his temper. If he had to pinpoint the exact moment it had all begun to go wrong, it would be the moment Bud had stepped on that landmine. They had all been so devastated, so thrown off balance by something too horrible and incomprehensibly wrong for them to deal with. Though they had picked up the pieces and gone on, none of them had quite managed to regain their balance. Least of all A.J. himself. If he had been himself, he would have noticed the tension between Rabb and Singer. He would have seen Commander Lindsey�s attack coming, would have recognized exactly how much hatred the man had built up against all of them, especially Harm. He would have broken Webb�s nose again before the spy could get the words �I need a favor� out of his mouth. He would have figured out a way to get Rabb down to Paraguay without him being forced to resign. If he had been in control of things, he would know what the hell was wrong with his Chief of Staff.
1650 EST
1730 EST