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Chapter 3
For a fraction of a second, Harm was paralyzed. He watched the blood
stream out from the fresh wound at the back of her head where the
ricochet had grazed the skull.
‘No, this isn’t happening... this can’t be happening...’
Just then, a stray bullet penetrated the cloth of his BDU pants and
almost caused his knees to buckle. His left thigh was suddenly on fire
but Harm defiantly chose to ignore the pain.
“Sir!”
The lieutenant’s voice shook him from his state of haze. He became aware
that he held little AJ in his arms, covering his eyes with his hand so
that he wouldn’t see his beloved godmother bleeding to death. Firmly
shutting all emotions out of his heart, Harm spun around on his heel
and, limping slightly, took off for the jeeps. When he saw the admiral
running towards him, he noted that the firing had ceased for good.
“Hand me the boy, you go and get Mac!” Chegwidden shouted and Harm
instantly complied.
Racing back towards the motionless figure on the reddish rock, all of
his previous horror and panic swept over him again in the wink of an
eye. The raw emotions threatened to cut off his breathing, but Harm
gulped the feeling down and just ran on. He couldn’t allow any tears to
blur his vision, just as he couldn’t allow his leg to give way to the
pain – Mac’s life, and with hers his, depended on his ability to run,
see and think straight.
However, a toneless “God...” escaped his lips when he dropped onto one
knee, hauled her body up as carefully as was possible given the need to
hurry, pushed himself up again and ran for dear life. His leg felt like
lead.
Sergei already stretched his arms out to help him get her aboard. Harm
climbed in as soon as she was settled and cradled her head on his lap
when the humvees raced off.
Everything around him had fused into one giant blur. The noises seemed
to originate from miles away, the landscape consisted of nothing but
horizontal lines of various width and color. Everything was in motion
except the minuscule bubble he and Mac seemed to be caught in: around
the two of them, time seemed to have frozen as he was just sitting
there, taking in her beautiful features that were smeared with dirt and
blood and had lost all color.
“Mac, stay with me, ” he pled in a low voice, his eyes stinging with
tears that wouldn’t be shed. “Please, Mac, hang on, I need you. I told
you, remember? I finally found the words. It’s up to you to make it
happen. Fight, Marine! Please! God, help us...”
When he cast a brief look at his surroundings, he met with his brother’s
glance and saw that the pain in the young man’s eyes had just about
doubled. He must have heard him and understood what had transpired only
hours before. Sergei reached out and squeezed Harm’s left forearm,
silently reassuring his brother, for whatever it was worth. Harm
swallowed and only managed a nod.
~~~~~~~~~~
The admiral had ordered a med-evac helicopter from Yuma to meet them a
little ways away. When they heaved Mac aboard, the Marine paramedics
already stood by with a defibrillator. Harm’s heart skipped several
beats when what he had feared most was confirmed.
“No pulse. Charge with 200. Clear!”
His left hand applying pressure to his wounded thigh, Harm sat crouched
in his seat, unable to assist the woman he loved in this ultimate fight.
Squeezing his eyes shut until his eyelids hurt from the strain, Harm
with his right hand tightly gripped the safety belt, just to hang on to
something. ‘Please, Mac, hear me... Sarah...’
“Charge with 300. Clear!”
The second attempt passed without effect.
“Still no pulse. Charge with 360. Clear!”
The cardiac monitor’s steady hum suddenly turned into irregular beeping.
“Got a pulse...” The rest was lost to Harm’s ears.
‘Hang on, Sarah, don’t let go...’
The slightest bump told him they’d just landed on the hospital grounds.
The helo’s doors were yanked open and before Harm had the time to get
out of his seat, Mac had already been taken away. Senseless with fear,
Harm jumped out – and everything around him went black as the blood loss
finally made itself known.
Jan. 2nd
1415 ZULU
Military hospital
Yuma, Arizona
“He’s waking up,” Sergei’s voice eventually penetrated the fog in Harm’s
mind that was keeping him from waking up for good.
“Harm, can you hear me?” the admiral asked forcefully, patting his
shoulder a little.
In an instant Harm was back to his senses. “How’s Mac?” he asked
immediately, his voice panic-stricken. “Did she make it? Tell me!”
Frantic, he tried to sit but was pushed back by AJ’s firm grip.
“Easy, Rabb. You’ve got your own health to worry about. Yes, Mac’s
alive,”
At first, Harm wanted to laugh out loud with unspeakable relief but
something in his CO’s voice made him stop short. He turned and looked
closely at the admiral who avoided his eyes.
“What is it? Tell me, what’s wrong with her?” New panic rose in his
throat.
Chegwidden drew a deep breath. “Mac was without a heartbeat for about
four minutes. They managed to bring her back but she’s been in a coma
ever since.”
Harm closed his eyes, despair washing over him like a tidal wave. “Will
she ever wake up again?” he asked tonelessly as his hand found the
railing of his bed as if he had to steady himself even in his horizontal
position.
“To early to tell. Maybe tomorrow, maybe even now, maybe in a month or
in a year or maybe... never. And even if she does wake up, we won’t know
beforehand what she’ll be like. She might come back to normal but she
might also have to completely depend on someone else’s care.” The
admiral’s voice was unsteady.
“Can I see her?” Harm had to force the words out of his mouth. His heart
had just shattered into a million pieces.
“I’d rather you didn’t but I know you’ll go anyway.”
Harm was infinitely glad his CO knew him so well and for once didn’t
argue. Laying the cards about Mac’s and his relationship on the table
just now would have been too much to bear. “Thank you, sir,” he
whispered.
Sergei stepped forward. Harm could see he was walking steadily, clinging
to the handles of an empty wheelchair. “Come on, I’ll take you to her. I
promised Harriet I’d take care of Chloe once you were able to go and see
Mac.”
“Chloe is with her?” Harm asked. “Is she all right? And little AJ?”
Sergei helped him settle into the wheelchair. “They are all well. The
Roberts’ are waiting just outside the ICU.”
Gathering every remaining bit of strength he could muster, Harm steeled
himself for what he might find upstairs. “Okay,” he breathed, “let’s
go.”
~~~~~~~~~~
He gave an involuntary gasp when he saw her through the windowpane. Mac
was deadly pale. Half a dozen computers were monitoring her life
functions. She was breathing without help but still had an oxygen tube
attached to her nose. On either side of her body, IV’s were slowly
trickling into her veins. Chloe was sitting on a chair next to her, her
face red from crying, helplessly stroking Mac’s left hand.
Beside Harm and Sergei, Harriet and Bud were standing, watching in
silence. Hearing Harm’s intake of breath, Harriet impulsively bent down
and hugged him. “It’s so good to see you’re okay, sir,” she said in a
low voice as he returned the embrace. Then, lower still, “She needs
you.”
“How’s AJ?” was all Harm managed to ask around the lump in his throat.
“He’s well. Thanks to you both.”
Bud laid his hand on Harm’s shoulder. “You saved his life, sir, you and
the colonel. We will never forget that.”
Fighting hard for his composure at the thought of what their deed might
cost them, Harm only choked out very low, “He’s our godson.”
Harriet saw that Harm’s shoulders were shaking. She quietly took her
husband’s hand and dragged him out of the room. Sergei cast Harm a
questioning look as if to ask if he was ready for what was awaiting him.
Squaring his shoulders, Harm nodded and Sergei reached for the door
handle.
At the sound of the door opening, Chloe lifted her head. Seeing Harm,
she got up and rushed over to him, threw her arms around his neck and
buried her face in the curve between his shoulder and neck. Harm felt
her tears wet his hospital scrubs and squeezed her tightly.
“Bring her back, Harm,” he heard the girl’s muffled voice. “I need her.”
Swallowing heavily, Harm tried to steady his voice as he gently pushed
Chloe away a little so they could look at each other.
“I don’t know if I can,” he said, hoarsely but gently.
“If you don’t, no one else will,” Chloe sobbed. “I tried. She found me
in the woods. We had that weird connection once. I tried to get through
to her but I just couldn’t reach her. But your link is so much stronger.
Please, Harm, try!”
Chloe’s open display of grief only added to his own that he was trying
so hard to keep to himself. “I doubt it works that way, but I promise
I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” Sniffing, she let go of him and handed Sergei his crutches
that he’d left with her earlier. Sergei gave Harm’s shoulder one last
firm squeeze, wheeled him over to Mac’s bedside and then left the room
with the girl.
Harm took Mac’s feeble hand. Feeling the warm but oh so slack fingers
hang heavily between his own made him want to scream. He held his breath
waiting for the first attack of pain to give way to a dull ache that
wouldn’t be chased. Slowly, he then brought her hand to his lips and
firmly pressed them against her knuckles for a few endless seconds until
he could think straight and remembered his promise to Chloe.
“Mac...” His voice faltered. He cleared his throat and tried again,
speaking lower.
“Sarah, it’s me... I’m right here and I’ll stay with you until you wake,
regardless of how long it takes.”
She seemed so fragile. The unhealthy pallor made her skin look like
porcelain. Her lips, normally an amazing shade of red, were now pale: a
hint of pink with just a tinge of violet in it. She looked seriously ill
– and yet, she was incredibly beautiful.
Harm bent forward and rested his chin next to her on the bed, eyes
closed. He didn’t need to see. He needed to feel her warmth, take in her
scent, as if to convince himself she wasn’t lost to him yet.
“Where are you, Mac?” he whispered. “Tell me how to find you... I need
you in my life... I can’t go on alone.”
Only now did he allow his tears to flow, silently lessening the cruel
tension that had built up inside him. He didn’t even notice that his
head sank to the side, coming to rest on his right cheek.
That was how the nurses found him, sleeping.
Jan 4th
1730 ZULU
Military hospital
Yuma, Arizona
“Sir, I can’t leave her here alone!” Harm was pacing agitatedly up and
down his room with the help of a cane, trying to make Chegwidden see his
point. The admiral tried to calm him down but Harm wouldn’t.
“Commander, you can’t stay down here forever. I could grant you a
vacation, but... seriously, Harm. You don’t know if she’ll ever wake.
Unless you totally quit you’d have to go away anyway in a few weeks.
It’ll only get harder the longer you stay! Maybe she can be moved to
D.C. soon,” AJ suggested. The look of defeat on his features showed
clearly that he knew full well his effort was made in vain.
Harm came to a halt right in front of him. When he spoke his words were
dangerously clear and well pronounced. “With all due respect, sir, these
are MY days off. This is MY decision. I will be staying with Colonel
Mackenzie and if you order me not to you will have to sue me for
disobedience of a direct order.”
AJ held his hands up in defense. “All right. Don’t shoot me. As you say,
it’s your decision. Technically, I have no immediate need for you at
JAG. So stay if you’re bound to. But, as your friend, let me advise you:
DON’T GET TOO INVOLVED! Think of your own life, Harm.” The admiral’s
expression showed real concern and compassion.
Harm met his gaze and then looked down. His voice was very low when he
spoke. “She IS my life, sir. I’m as much involved as I could ever be.”
Chegwidden let out a deep sigh and apparently was making his peace with
the situation at hand. He took a step in Harm’s direction and all of a
sudden, Harm found himself hugged by his CO, the brief gesture catching
him totally off guard.
“Sir...”
“Good luck, Commander.” AJ’s voice was suddenly strained. “Bring her
back to us. And take care of yourself.”
Harm was well aware that this had been the most sincere expression of
his feelings for any of his subordinates that his CO had ever given. “I
will, sir, I promise.” He didn’t trust his voice to any more words.
Chegwidden turned to leave and went to the door. He pushed the handle
and then turned again. “See you in four weeks, Commander. Then we’ll
discuss any further proceedings.” He produced a tight smile.
Harm swallowed, cast him a look of pure gratitude and came to attention.
“Aye, aye, sir!”
Jan. 9th
2350 ZULU
Military hospital
Yuma, Arizona
During the last five days, almost all doctors and nurses who worked in
intensive care had come to know the picture of the tall, dark-haired man
sitting next to the woman in the coma. Sometimes he would talk to her,
sometimes he would just sit by and watch, holding her hand. As he was no
relation of hers, at first they wouldn’t let him stay with her. But then
the Navy’s Judge Advocate General himself had ordered them to grant the
commander permanent access to the colonel’s room. It seemed she had no
family at all and her working partner, as the commander had turned out
to be, was the person nearest to her. Speculation about how close they
really were had long since gotten hold of everyone’s imagination.
It tore at everyone’s hearts, seeing his grief and the way he would
spend his entire day until late at night at her side, trying to bring
her back to consciousness or just letting her feel his presence. Each
time a doctor had examined her, the commander would eagerly ask for
every detail of her state, only to be disappointed that so far there had
been no change whatsoever. True, the many cables around her had vanished
one by one as her condition kept stabilizing, but the most positive one
could say about the colonel’s state was that it was stagnating at a
secure level. It hurt to see the desperation showing in the commander’s
eyes whenever he spoke to the medical personnel. Before long, the two
officers had become the main topic of concern in the nurses’ rooms as
well as among the doctors.
Harm was unaware of the fact that he was giving the impression of having
emerged right from some tragic paperback novel. All he was thinking
about was finding a way to penetrate the firm wall that closed Mac out
from the rest of the world. When he was honest with himself, he admitted
that seeing her like this and feeling so utterly helpless was eating up
more of his strength than he would have imagined. And that was something
he just couldn’t afford.
So, for some little breaks, he had arranged her personal matters, talked
the Roberts’ into taking Jingo, instructed Sergei to drop by at Mac’s
every third day to get the mail, and he had seen to it that Chloe’s
grandmother could pick her granddaughter up at the Roberts’ and take her
home to Vermont.
He had made Harriet send some of his and Mac’s personal things to Yuma
and had collected their clothes from the base. Everything had been kept
in neat order. Yet, he was unable to find the necklace he had given her.
She must have lost it back at Red Rock Mesa, he thought bitterly. He
could have needed it now as his own source of strength. It would have
been something to hold on to every time he started to involuntarily
convince himself that their ever so short romance had happened in his
imagination. As for reality, nothing more than his memories and his
aching heart seemed to be left of what had started out as his private
heaven. As the days dragged on, hope slowly but steadily gave way to
grief.
~~~~~~~~~~
Having fetched himself a cup of coffee, Harm returned to Mac’s bedside
and once again wearily settled into the chair next to her. He had
allowed a certain numbness to slip into his mind now and then. The
feeling eased away part of the pain and gave him a few moments’ rest.
The wound on his thigh was healing fast. All he felt was a slight
throbbing when he had walked a little too much.
Harm took a sip of his coffee and looked at Mac who was lying on her
back as motionless as ever. Too tired even to grieve, he then closed his
eyes to try and recover a bit. He would need all his strength for no one
knew how long, if he were ever to bring her back to D.C. – and to his
life.
Suddenly he started and sat bolt upright. He could have sworn he had
heard a slight rustle. Instantly wary, he put his cup down and cast a
look at his surroundings. All seemed quiet around them. But then his
eyes wandered back to Mac and he gave a gasp. Her left hand was lying in
a slightly different position from where it had been. The difference was
minimal but he noticed it all the same. In an instant he was leaning
over her, his heart throbbing wildly, hope and fear warring in his
heart.
“Mac,” he called softly, his voice shaking a little. “Mac, can you hear
me?”
She gave no answer but Harm could see that her eyeballs were moving
wildly behind her closed lids. He took her hand and squeezed it. “Mac!”
he called again. “Mac, it’s me! Tell me, where are you? Tell me how to
get to you, honey.”
She made the smallest movement with her lips and Harm’s heart nearly
missed a beat. With trembling hands he pressed the button to call a
nurse.
A doctor entered the room shortly after. “What is it?” he asked, his
concern showing. “Commander, you look like you’re about to faint on me.
You’ve never rung for anything yet. So why now? What’s the matter?” The
doctor gave him a concerned look, then took Mac’s hand and felt for a
pulse.
“She moved.” Harm had difficulties finding his voice. “First I only
heard something and thought I was wrong but then I saw it. Does that
mean she’s going to wake up?”
The doctor examined her in silence for a few moments. Then he looked up.
“We could give it a try.” Bending down again, he gently shook Mac’s
shoulder. “Ma’am, can you hear us? Wake up.”
Mac was stirring more visibly but still had her eyes firmly closed.
The doctor tried again, then turned to Harm who had unconsciously held
his breath and was clutching the edge of Mac’s blanket in a death grip.
“You try. She knows your voice.”
Harm once again bent over Mac’s body. “Mac, it’s me, Harm. Come on, open
your eyes! Mac!” Desperate, Harm looked up at the doctor. “Words don’t
seem to reach her.”
“Try something a little more significant. Something she’s used to.”
Pulling himself up to full height, Harm breathed in heavily and then, at
full command voice, yelled, “Colonel Mackenzie, front and center!!”
The doctor gave a start and jumped backwards. At Harm’s low cry of
amazement, he stepped close again. Mac had opened her eyes and was
staring at them, thoroughly bewildered.
Jan. 10th
0030 ZULU
Military hospital
Yuma, Arizona
In the course of the last few hours, Mac had lost consciousness again a
couple of times but eventually, they had managed to make her come to
completely. The first thing she did was put a hand to the thick bandages
around her head, groaning. Harm immediately bent over her.
“Don’t, hon. You’re still very weak. Just lie still, okay? You’ve been
through a lot. Do you remember anything?”
Mac frowned but said nothing. The doctor stepped up to Harm. “Remember:
maybe she can’t talk or doesn’t even understand what you’re saying. We
have to wait and see exactly how much damage the lack of oxygen caused
to her brain.” Harm swallowed and nodded slowly. Then he again turned to
face Mac and tried a small smile.
Mac coughed a little before she was able to speak up. “I don’t remember
a thing. Why am I here?” Her slightly raspy voice caught in her throat
and she cleared it. “Where are we anyway?”
Harm was overwhelmed with relief when he heard her speak even though her
voice had suffered from the long days of intubation. He needed to steady
himself, holding onto the bed, before he could take her hand to clasp it
between his own. “We’re at a military hospital in Yuma. You nearly got
yourself killed in the attempt to save Chloe, Sergei and little AJ. God,
Mac, I thought this time I’d lost you for good.”
Shuddering involuntarily, he smiled at her, but his smile fell as he saw
the look of utmost confusion on her face. He felt her pull her hand back
from his and the chill of fear threatened to paralyze him. A mix of
dread, grief and compassion was showing on the doctor’s features. He
only mumbled something about having other patients to tend and excused
himself just a little too quickly.
Mac was looking at Harm with wide eyes, apparently at a total loss as to
what she was supposed to think. Then she smiled a little
self-consciously. Harm braced himself for the worst, but still, the
impact of her next words took his breath away and threw his life into a
murderous tailspin.
Again, Mac cleared her throat and coughed a little. When she finally
spoke, her voice was achingly innocent. “I’m really sorry. But I’m
afraid I don’t understand. What did you say I did, nearly getting myself
killed? And... uhm...” She chuckled a little helplessly, “I’m so
embarrassed to ask as you seem to know me, but... have we ever met
before?”
Chapter 4
Deep silence followed the sentence. Mechanically, Harm reached for a
nearby chair and settled down at her bedside, his eyes never leaving
hers. She was obviously waiting for an answer and seemed to be searching
his face for some hint as to what kind of answer she was about to get
from him. Embarrassment and curiosity were shining in her eyes – but
they were mingled with a considerable amount of anxiety as the moment
was dragging out and she couldn’t seem to get her thoughts straight.
Harm’s vocal chords refused their duties and just like her, he had to
clear his throat several times, prolonging the moment even more. But the
urge to speak was overwhelming, and he forced his voice to comply,
regardless of any possible consequences.
He tried a strained smile, if only to hide his own inward turmoil. “Mac,
don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what a pain in the...”
He stopped short when he realized that the anxiety in her eyes had
turned to despair. And it was then that it hit him for good: she really
and truly didn’t remember a single thing about him. It didn’t matter
that her injury apparently hadn’t caused any major physical damage. And
it didn’t matter that this loss of memory had more likely been caused by
the traumatic events she’d been through than by the bullet that had
grazed her head. The result of whatever had caused it was devastating.
The way she looked at him – daring him to assume he had any right
whatsoever to claim a personal acquaintance, and at the same time
frantically calling out to him to save her from the horror of oblivion,
whoever he might be...
Utterly unprepared for this situation as he was, one thing instantly
became crystal clear before his conscious: to win her back, he had to
keep his distance. He would help her with every single step on the way
if she’d let him, but he knew he had to keep his feelings to himself at
all costs. Mac was as lost as she could ever be and she was right now
facing the battle of her lifetime to come back to herself. Not ‘even
though’, but ‘because’ he loved her more than anything in the world, he
had to avoid telling her anything that would throw her off track even
more.
He still remembered how he had felt when he had come to after his rescue
from the Atlantic and Renée had told him that they had been an item for
more than a year. The only thing he had wanted had been to figure out
his situation and she had only added to his confusion – because she had
loved him and had told him so. He had felt honor-bound to stay with her,
and not only because Mac had been with Mic at the time. It had mostly
been because he had believed what Renée had told him. Why would she lie
about something as important as a personal relationship? And how could
he have left her like that, seeing how involved she obviously was with
him? He hadn’t wanted to stay with Renée, but he had known he couldn’t
just walk out of her life. So, knowing Mac to be equally honorable –
wouldn’t she react in exactly the same way? When she’d have him around
all the time, helping her through this ordeal, and knowing he loved her,
wouldn’t she stay with him, even though she didn’t remember anything at
all about him, just because she felt she was honor-bound to?
If he’d ever let it come to this, their future would be doomed.
Unbeknownst to the person next to him who was still staring at him with
huge, terrified eyes, Harmon Rabb, Jr., made what might easily be the
hardest decision of his entire life. Even though it was tearing him up
from inside with a pain so powerful he thought he’d suffocate, he knew
it was the right – no, the only – thing to do.
He let her go.
“Umm... sir?” Mac’s hoarse voice had taken up a puzzled edge as she
carefully reminded him of her presence.
He jumped and, shutting his heart off for good, faced her with a tired
half-smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. I... I’m still very tired because of my
injury and I... uh... I guess I was indeed surprised that my colleague
of six years doesn’t remember me at all.”
If it was even possible, her eyes went wider still, but the desperation
showing in them lessened just a little bit, hearing that she apparently
did know him quite well. “Six years?” she asked, more to herself than to
him. Then her brow furrowed. “An injury, you say? Does what happened to
you have anything to do with me?”
“Yes, it does,” he explained calmly, pondering how much he could tell
her without losing her somewhere on the way. Then, deciding he’d
probably have to go back quite a long way anyway, he took the plunge.
He’d soon find out if she remembered anything at all. “We were rescuing
little AJ, Chloe and Sergei when the kidnappers opened fire. You were
hit four times, to your thigh, at your shoulder and at your hip, and a
ricochet grazed the back of your head. I got a bullet to my thigh as
well, when I tried to get you out of the line of fire.”
He knew his explanation had done anything but cleared things up for her
but this was as good a starting point as any, so he just waited for her
to react.
“Good God...” she mumbled and he thought he could see her thoughts
chasing each other behind her forehead. “So, I... I guess I owe you my
life, then,” she concluded a little uneasily.
Knowing any denial would only distort the truth, he just nodded. “You’re
welcome.”
The furrow on her brow eased a little and she seemed to take in his
features. The features of her savior, whoever he might turn out to be.
“Thank you... uh...” She stopped, lost.
“Harm,” he helped her in a low voice, trying to ignore the sting.
“Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., United States Navy, your working partner at
the Navy’s Judge Advocate General Corps.”
“I’m in the Navy?”
Despite the tragedy, he couldn’t help chuckling a little at her
question. “You’d have introduced me to your right hook if I’d ever so
much as joked about you being in the Navy, jarhead,” he answered
wistfully, lost in memories.
“Excuse me?” Even though her voice was feeble, her surprise and
annoyance were evident. “What did you just call me? Are you always this
rude? And what makes you think I’d start a fight with you? I’m not
suicidal, you know...”
Sighing, Harm pulled himself up a little in his chair and resolved to
take up Sisyphus’s labor. “I’m sorry, Mac... I... why don’t we just go
all the way back to the beginning?” As soon as the words were out of his
mouth, a flashback to the JAG-a-thon crossed his mind for a fleeting
moment, and the irony wasn’t lost on him. However, he had no time to
dwell on the thought as just then the door opened and the doctor
returned with two colleagues and a nurse in tow.
“Well, Colonel Mackenzie, it’s nice to have you with us again,” he said
a little too cheerfully, ignoring Harm. “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t really know,” came the uneasy answer.
“But we do,” the doctor went on in his honeyed voice. “We had all your
vitals monitored closely, you know, until last night when we decided you
were stable enough to go without help, except for the additional oxygen
tube to your nose. But what would you say if we took that tube away,
too, and moved you to a somewhat nicer room? The ICU’s not exactly cozy.
I guess you’d like to leave here as soon as you can.”
Mac gave a weary “Sounds good,” but Harm could clearly detect the
‘Damned-right-I-do!’ in her words. In an odd way, this ever so slight
reminder of her gung-ho mentality managed to alleviate his mood a
little. She was still Mac. Now she only needed to learn who Mac was.
Jan. 10th
0017 ZULU
Admiral Chegwidden’s house
McLean, Virginia
AJ put his book aside and quickly strode over to the telephone that was
ringing persistently. Actually, it wasn’t ringing any differently from
how it normally did, but still, there was something to the tone this
time that had his apprehension growing. And knowing that a similar sense
of foreboding normally came in connection with his chief of staff, AJ
was sure that this call must have something to do with her. Dreading the
news he might be about to receive, he picked up.
“Chegwidden.”
[“Sir, this is Commander Rabb.”]
AJ’s grip on the receiver tightened. He’d known it all along.
“Commander, how’s the situation?” he asked warily.
[“She woke up, sir.”]
A wave of joy flowed through the admiral’s body. He hadn’t lost the
woman he’d always loved like his own daughter – and at times maybe even
more. “That’s wonderful, Harm,” he said, a sigh of relief resounding in
his words.
[“Yes, sir.”]
The obvious lack of joy and enthusiasm in the younger man’s voice took
him aback. “Commander,” he asked sharply, “What aren’t you telling me?”
The pause that followed the question made him hold his breath; all
previous elation vanished instantly.
[“She’s got amnesia, sir.”]
The short, next-to-no-info answers of his subordinate started to
infuriate him. “Details, Rabb,” he barked, taking refuge into anger so
he wouldn’t have to face the fear. “What doesn’t she remember?”
[“Everything, it seems, sir...”] The commander’s voice had reduced to
little more than a whisper and AJ could tell Harm was fighting to keep
his composure. [“She even asked me if she knew me.”]
“Dear God... what are the chances she’ll get her memory back?”
[“No one can tell, sir. I’ve been told that judging by her physical
state, the memory loss is more likely the result of her traumatic
experiences in connection with the hit at the head. The doctor says we
should be grateful the bullet only grazed the skull and that she’s awake
and moving. That she’s thinking and speaking seems to be a miracle in
itself.”]
AJ slowly sat down on the couch, horrified – and hurting for both of his
friends. Both were facing a dreadful ordeal – Mac, fighting to get some
hold on anything from her former life, and Harm, seeing that his love
had forgotten he even existed.
His love. AJ braced himself. He hated to intrude but he felt he had to
know the truth if he wanted to be able to support them in any way.
“Harm,” he ventured carefully, “Since when exactly have you and Mac been
together?”
Harm didn’t even try to deny. [“New Year, sir,”] came the toneless
answer. [“About an hour before Harriet’s call.”]
They hadn’t even had the time to get to know each other as lovers –
emotionally as well as physically. AJ’s heart went out to them. Mac’s
bottomless grief about Harm being lost at sea was still vivid in his
memory. Back then, she’d been about to marry another man. But now, she
and Harm seemed to have – finally – managed to lay all the cards on the
table and talk from the heart. He couldn’t even begin to understand what
Harm had to be going through.
AJ wished he were able to help them wake from this nightmare, or to at
least ease the pain somehow... and suddenly, it struck him. He could in
fact do some genuine good here. And he would, so help him God.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, and I know that sounds terribly flat,”
he began. “But I want you to know that we’re all in this with you. Me,
Bud and Harriet, Sturgis – we’ll all do whatever we can to help you in
any way.”
Harm’s voice conveyed a tired, wistful smile. [“Thank you, sir, I
appreciate that, but I doubt there’s anything you can help us with right
now – except figuring out a way how I can stay with Mac and not face
AWOL charges. Or how I can ensure she’ll still have her old life to come
back to once she gets there.”]
“As a matter of fact: that was exactly what I was getting at,
Commander,” AJ replied. “I know it seems way too early to think of
things as secondary as this, but I know how much it’ll mean to both of
you. You’ll understand that I can’t prolong Mac’s leave indefinitely
without revealing what happened. She could as well resign her commission
at once in that case, because no one would ever allow her to stay in the
service if she doesn’t come back to her normal self within the next
three weeks. If it takes longer than that, everyone will always suspect
that some permanent brain damage occurred. And with that, she won’t be
allowed to remain in the service at all.”
[“I guess not, sir.”] He could tell Harm hadn’t really considered this
possibility before. He seemed shocked at the perspective of Mac facing a
disability discharge. So AJ hurried to set his mind at ease.
“However, as for now, only me, you and the doctors know. You and I can
keep this a secret, and the doctors are bound by medical
confidentiality. We might need to tell a few trustworthy people later
on, but if you could keep her from revealing her memory loss to anyone
right now until she can leave the hospital, and if you could supply her
with everything she’ll need to know immediately, then the memory loss
might go unnoticed. Then, you’d just need to figure out a reason why she
might want to go into reserves and retreat from active duty, for now,
and talk her into signing that letter. If all goes well, she could be
reinstated to her position without major problems whenever she’s ready.”
Again, silence reigned for a few seconds as his offer seemed to sink in
at the other end of the phone line. When he finally answered, Harm’s
voice was a little shaky. [“Thank you, sir,”] he only choked out very
low.
“Anytime, son. And good luck,” AJ gently replied and ended the
connection without any more words. He knew that probably neither of them
would have been able to talk very much anyway right now.
Jan. 10th
1522 ZULU
Military hospital
Yuma, Arizona
When she heard the slight creaking of the door, the woman occupying the
single bed instantly turned her head in the direction the sound was
coming from, eager to absorb any detail whatsoever that might in some
way give her an idea of who she was. As of now, she didn’t really know a
thing. It felt as if she didn’t even exist – and the feeling was scaring
her to no end.
She had gotten a few crumbs of information before she had been brought
here, and had then been forced to give in to her exhaustion and sleep.
When she had woken, the first thing she had felt was the fear that she
might already have forgotten what little she had learned just a few
hours ago. But then, wracking her brain – or whatever was left of it,
she thought wearily – she had been able to put the information together.
Still, it made no sense.
Her name was Mackenzie. Apparently, her friends called her Mac. If this
Commander Rabb – Harm – really was a friend of hers. She had no way of
knowing for sure. Her gut told her to trust him. The expression of
concern and caring in his eyes had seemed ever so sincere. Yet, she knew
she had to be careful. Right now, she was as vulnerable as a newborn
child.
At least the doctor had confirmed something Harm had told her. He had
called her ‘Colonel Mackenzie’ and then, this was a military hospital.
She had figured out as much. So she really was in the military. If what
Harm had told her was true, she had to be a Marine. There were no
colonels in the Navy. She had asked herself again and again why she
would know such general details as this and remember nothing about
herself, and she had dug frantically for anything whatsoever that might
point her to a more personal line of thinking. Yet, nothing had come of
it. She had to stick to what Harm would be able to tell her.
If he was a commander and her working partner, she had to be a
lieutenant colonel, she supposed. She doubted she could be ranking
higher than him. Apparently, she was a lawyer. A frightening thought,
given the fact that she couldn’t remember ever reading a law book. But
she would worry about that later. For the moment, she accepted it as a
given that she was Lieutenant Colonel “Mac” Mackenzie, a lawyer working
with the Navy’s JAG. How she knew what JAG was anyway, she couldn’t
tell. She just did.
And now this weird story about her and him saving someone and being shot
– this was where she lost track of what was going on. Her life was no
freaking movie, damn it. Lawyers didn’t chase kidnappers except if they
were called Robert Redford in real life. She’d grill Harm on that one,
she resolved, seeing him step into the room, a self-conscious smile on
his face.
A handsome face it was, she had to admit, and a handsome appearance
altogether. Surely he’d have women waiting in line. Definitely not her
man. She knew she just hated those Don-Juan types, speaking in terms of
relationships. Yet, if he was willing to help her and if they got on
well at work, she could have had worse company in her current situation.
Where was her family anyway? Harm was the only one who’d shown up yet.
He stepped close, pulled up a chair and sat down at her side, the
self-conscious expression still in place. This surprised her a little –
a man like him was supposed to be as sure of himself as anyone. But this
would be another detail to be added to her getting-to-know list and
stored for later. Now, her priorities were somewhat different.
“Hi, Marine,” he greeted her in a low, warm voice, startling her as she
felt his words go right through to her soul. There was something about
the sound of his voice that struck her, but she willed herself to ignore
the feeling. ‘Later,’ she told herself, frowning inwardly.
“Hey... umm...” she stopped, feeling her smile turn a little strained.
How did one reply wittily to that one? “Uh... sailor?” she tried. His
reaction told her she had picked the right guess – and for what
followed, she was completely unprepared.
His face lit up. The way he smiled at her had to be the most stunning
manifestation of a warm, likeable disposition she had ever seen.
‘Lethal,’ she mused, again picturing women lining up in front of his
door. And yet – there was something so genuinely good and compassionate
in his expression that she was instantly afraid she wouldn’t be able to
be on her guard around him.
“I see you pardoned me for being rude earlier,” he remarked.
“Maybe...” she replied, finding it hard to keep the corners of her mouth
relaxed. “But what was that you said to me anyway? Jarhead?”
His glance turned just a little guilty. “Yep,” he admitted sheepishly.
“You know, you Marines and us sailors tend to... well... disagree on
what’s more important – in war, in training, in... whatever. Each branch
has its pride. So, to make a long story short, just call me ‘squid’ next
time I forget my manners. So we’re equal.”
Soft laughter bubbled up inside her. This self-irony definitely suited
him, she decided. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”
He chuckled with her, but sobered quickly. “How are you feeling?” he
asked, concern showing in his eyes.
“I don’t really know,” she answered honestly, looking down on her hands
and straightening a little in her half-seated position. “Confused as
hell covers it nicely, I think.”
She saw him make a movement as if to take her hand but he drew back
immediately. “I can imagine.” Again, the velvety sound of his voice
easily penetrated the walls she was trying to erect around herself.
Looking up, she fixed her gaze to his. His eyes were of an amazing shade
of deep blue, with just the right amount of green shining through. “No,”
she said calmly. “In fact, you can’t.”
“Actually, I do know how you feel,” he replied, leaving her staring at
him in mild astonishment. “At least partly,” he continued. “Last May, I
had to eject over the Atlantic and was out in the water for hours. When
they finally found me, I was barely alive, and when I came to, I
suffered partial amnesia for a few days.”
It seemed he had really been in her place, at least to some extent. “You
ejected?” she asked, trying to get some order into the facts. “I thought
you were a lawyer.”
With a rueful half-smile, he explained, “I am. I used to fly F-14s, but
I caused a ramp strike in ’92, due to eye problems. So I changed
designator.”
The expression on his features had turned just a little pained. She
could feel there was more to the story... as there seemed to be more to
just about everything she came across. Squaring her shoulders, she
forced her focus back on the task at hand, getting to know herself. All
details concerning her surroundings would follow later on. Still, one
question had piqued her curiosity.
“Where was I when you were lost at sea, and afterwards, at the hospital?
Was I with you?”
Again, she noted that his brow furrowed considerably as he seemed to
ponder his answer. ‘He’s not being sincere,’ she thought sadly, wishing
her impression of him were different.
“You had personal issues to see to at the time,” he answered, his voice
guarded. “And that prevented you from coming to the hospital very often.
Still, you played an important role in bringing me back to myself.”
So he probably was just paying back what she had done for him back then,
she mused. Yet, he was being a little too hesitant in answering her
questions. Was he concerned that she might not be able to digest the
info yet? Or what was there to conceal about her life?
Deciding on a slight change of topic, she swallowed her uneasiness best
as she could. “That was probably far easier than what we’ve got at hand
right now,” she stated in a low voice. “Your memory loss was partial,
you said. Well, apparently, mine isn’t. I don’t even know my own name.”
Her gaze dropped.
She gave a start when she felt his hand shyly touching her shoulder,
asking her to look at him. Slowly, she lifted her gaze and what she saw
in his eyes overwhelmed her with the depth of emotion he seemed to be
trying to hide, but couldn’t. He seemed to have a truly compassionate
heart. Somehow, this thought moved her deeply. “You’re going to be
fine,” he answered just as low as she had spoken, intently looking at
her. “If you’re willing to let me, I promise I’ll do everything in my
power to help you come back to your normal self. Trust me, Sarah.”
Sarah.
She could feel goose-bumps at the back of her neck. ‘Sarah Mackenzie’ –
the name didn’t feel familiar, but it did ring a bell somewhere deep
inside her mind. A first step in the right direction? ‘Please, God, let
me be right...’
Harm was still looking at her, studying her features for any signs of a
reaction. Making an effort, she managed to force the slightest hint of a
smile on her face. Then she held out her hand. “Nice to meet you,
Harmon. I am Sarah.”
Confused, she noted that he swallowed heavily. “It’s Harm,” he repeated.
“And you tell everyone to call you Mac. Maybe we should leave it at
that?”
“Is it a problem for you to use my given name?” This man was turning out
a real puzzle.
He ran a hand through his hair. “No, but...” Again, he hesitated,
confirming her suspicion that she was getting an edited version of her
story. Her anger growing, she spoke up.
“The truth. And not just this once, Harm. You understand ‘the whole
truth and nothing but the truth’, don’t you? And don’t ask me how I knew
that. I’ve got no f...reaking idea.”
He sighed, apparently resolving to give in. “It’s just that ‘Sarah’ is
someone you tend to keep to yourself, Mac. ‘Mac’ is the one we’re all
friends with. I didn’t think you’d want that to change just now.”
Boy, was this ever getting complex. She stifled an exasperated face.
Well, this schizophrenia would stop from now on. She felt no need to get
to know a multiple personality when one would do just fine. And somehow
she knew she wanted to be Sarah. She didn’t know the bearer of the name
– but she felt like Sarah was the one she was reaching out to.
“Actually, I do want it to change,” she declared determinedly, ignoring
the flash of pain that crossed his features ever so briefly. Her jaw
set, she again stuck out her hand to him. “Let’s try this again: I’m
delighted to meet you, Harm.”
Hesitantly, he reached for her fingers and finally encircled them with
his own, the warm contact instantly electrifying her. Still holding her
gaze, he solemnly replied, “Believe me, Sarah, so am I.”
For a long moment, their eyes held. Then she felt she couldn’t stand the
tension any longer and broke the contact – eyes as well as hands. While
she was readjusting her blanket, she tried to get the conversation going
again.
“Tell me, how exactly did we end up here?”
“Okay, I’ll try to make this short,” he began, pulling a photo out of
his wallet and handing it to her. It was kind of an informal family
photo, apparently very recent. In the middle was a couple, a young,
slightly stout man with a blond woman, his wife, she supposed. The woman
was holding a boy of about three years on her arms. To her right, a
tall, balding man was towering over her. Next to him stood a handsome
African-American. To the young man’s left, she spotted a woman with dark
hair and big brown eyes, standing just next to Harm. Suddenly, her hand
started to tremble. She knew this face.
“This is me, isn’t it?” she whispered.
“Yeah...” he softly acknowledged. Then his voice turned neutral. “The
couple in the middle are Lieutenants Bud Roberts and Harriet
Sims-Roberts. Bud is a lawyer and Harriet is an office executive.
They’re colleagues of ours at JAG. As is this nice man here,” he
indicated the African-American. “This is Commander Sturgis Turner,
former submariner and now a JAG lawyer, too. Pal of mine back from Naval
Academy. And this,” his finger moved to the last figure in the picture,
“Is our commanding officer, Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden. He passed his
name on to this little guy,” he indicated the child on Harriet’s arms.
“AJ Roberts, three years old, your and my godson.”
Sarah was touched. “He’s adorable.”
Harm nodded. “Yes, he is. And we love him very much, I can tell you
that. Mac, uh... I’m sorry... Sarah... now we’re getting to the point.”
His expression had turned very earnest and Sarah felt her apprehension
grow as he went on, “Ten months ago, Bud and I prosecuted a Naval
officer for murder and got him convicted to life at Fort Leavenworth,
the armed forces’ prison. You were assigned his defense counsel and when
he was found guilty, he swore he’d get back at us. He did, on New Years
Eve.”
It seemed to her that he was waiting for any indication as to if she was
still following him. “I see,” she cut in, although she didn’t, but that
didn’t matter right now. “What did he do?”
“We were at a ball in D.C., you, me, Bud and Harriet,” Harm explained.
Sarah made a mental side-note: she had gone to a ball with Harm. In
private. Definitely a detail that needed further inquiry. ‘Later,’ she
once again admonished herself. Harm went on, “When we... when I’d taken
you home, Harriet called and told us that there’d been a break in at
their house. Little AJ and his babysitters were gone. And said
babysitters happened to be Chloe, the girl you were tutoring in the Big
Sister Program, and my Russian half-brother Sergei. Don’t ask for
details now, these are two long stories of their own.” He held up a
hand, silencing her. “Anyway, we knew this was the doing of the officer
we had gotten convicted and you knew where to find them. We went out
there, bailed them out, were being shot at and... well, this is the
result.”
“Phew,” Sarah made, amazement warring with disbelief and anger in her
soul. “I can’t quite bring myself to believe that lawyers like us would
go and get them ourselves. But the wounds are there, so I’ll leave it at
that. This Chloe – she’s not my real sister, I understand. Who IS my
family, then?” She could hear that her voice had taken on a slightly
accusing edge but she couldn’t help it. What was Harm trying to
accomplish, telling her stories as crazy as this one? She could really
need an honest ally... sad that it shouldn’t be him.
Harm had apparently understood her mood and picked up on it. “Mac –
Sarah...”
‘Why is it so difficult for him to comply with my wish?’ she thought
with a mental frown.
He tried again. “You’ll find that our lives have grazed certain
borderlines more than once,” he ventured carefully. “I know many things
will sound weird, lunatic even. I can only offer my word of honor as an
officer that what I’m telling you is true.” His expression was very
sincere and she felt strongly inclined to believe him, but she
forcefully reminded herself to be on her guard. ‘Everyone might be your
enemy,’ she told herself. ‘Don’t let yourself be lured into trusting
someone you barely know.’
“Okay,” she only said, not quite sure what her answer was meant to
imply. “So, now, my family.”
When she saw him wince, she felt like she wanted to shake him. “Damn it,
Harm,” she said in a low voice, “If I’m a Marine, as you keep telling me
I am, I can handle whatever there is to tell. Spill it.”
She heard him sigh. “Your father is dead.” Harm’s voice sounded defeated
and monotone. “He died about three years ago. You were never close. He
was an abusive alcoholic. Your mother left him – and you – when you
turned fifteen. You met her again at your father’s deathbed but you
didn’t stay in contact. You have no brothers or sisters. Your uncle,
Marine Colonel Matthew O’Hara, is... on a mission abroad right now and
not allowed to get in touch. You were married but your husband died in
an accident involving a handgun. You have no children. That’s it.”
Sarah sat thunderstruck. This was her life. And from Harm’s hesitation,
she knew he had tried to give her the inevitable facts only. Now she
wasn’t even sure she wanted to hear the rest of it. What good was
getting your life back if it turned out such a mess?
Compassion shone in Harm’s eyes when she turned her head to face him.
“Sarah, I’m so sorry, I wanted to...”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence. The door opened and a young nurse
stepped in, holding a box of chocolates. She was smiling widely. “Ma’am,
sir, I just wanted to give you this on behalf of all the nurses who
looked after you in Intensive Care. We don’t know any details about your
condition, ma’am, but as we can see that you’re already catching up, we
wanted to wish you all the best. Welcome back, ma’am.”
“Thank you so much,” Sarah replied happily, “I really appreciate that.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” With a shy wave, the nurse retreated from the
room and closed the door again.
Sarah opened the box and chose a piece of chocolate, glad to have a
little sweet consolation to help her over the sad things she’d just
learned about herself. But just when she was about to open her mouth,
Harm quickly snatched both, chocolate and box, away from her hands, his
expression horrified.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped, at a loss and
annoyed for good this time. The commander was a genuine nuisance.
“There’s rum in it,” Harm explained very low, apparently not even daring
to face her, but she needed him to. After all, he had provoked her.
“So what?” she shot back, noting with satisfaction that he seemed to be
lifting his eyes to hers against his own will.
“You mustn’t eat that,” he stated in a pained voice. Then he took a deep
breath. “You’re an alcoholic, Sarah, like your father. You’ve been sober
for over ten years now, except for once and that was understandable,
given the situation. But you need to continue on that path.”
Deep silence prevailed when he had finished his sentence. Sarah was too
shell-shocked even to breathe. It wasn’t just her life that was a mess –
she was.
Her eyes were glued to her hands that were resting in her lap. Her mind
was spinning. Where the devil was she supposed to go from here? What was
there to come back to after all? And would this really be worth the
effort? Right now, the only answers she could think of were ‘nowhere’,
‘nothing’ and ‘no’.
When she felt his hand on her shoulder again, she gave in to the
inevitable and looked up, allowing him to see there were tears in her
eyes. He reached out as if to brush them away but she recoiled, making
his shoulders drop.
“Sarah...” Again, the tone of his voice struck her. And suddenly she
found it was too much to bear.
“Harm, I... I’m sorry, but, please, leave me alone,” she managed to
murmur. “I need to think this through on my own.”
“But...”
“Please.”
He nodded silently, got up and left the room, throwing her one last, sad
look before the door snapped shut. To her, it felt as if he had walked
out of her life.
She couldn’t really blame him.
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