Author: Nancy
Disclaimer: JAG and characters do not belong to me. No money made
here.
Classification: Drama with all characters.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harm faces consequences for some of his "loose cannon"
behaviors.
PART 4
Mac returned the next day with her head held high with purpose. They only thought they had seen this Marine devil dog in action. She immediately called Bud Roberts into her office.
"Bud, we're starting over from scratch on the Jacobs case. I want all the files from Commander Rabb's investigation. I also want a list of all personnel that worked in the building on these dates and include visitors." Mac handed him a list of her requests.
"Ma'am I'll get right on it." Bud pushed himself up and walked slowly to his office.
"Could you use some help?" Sturgis's baritone voice captured her attention.
"Sure, would you like to go with me to see Dr. Henry Jacobs?"
"Do you think he'll see us?"
"I hope so."
"Mac does the Admiral know about our little investigation."
"I'm about to tell him." She smiled and picked up her phone. "Tiner, I need to see the Admiral as soon as he has a minute."
"I must say you've made quite an attitude adjustment since yesterday." Sturgis smiled as she looked up with clear focused eyes.
"Have you ever spent the day looking for something only to find out it was right in front of you the whole time?" She smiled with a twinkle in her eye.
"Yes, I have. So I presume you two finally had that talk?" Sturgis smiled again.
"Didn't have to. There's an old saying that my Uncle Matt likes to use that says actions speak louder than words," Mac replied with a raised eyebrow. Her phone buzzed, and she answered. "Okay thanks Tiner tell him I'll be right in."
"Would you care for some support?" Sturgis offered as Mac headed to the Admiral's office.
"Sure, Sturgis have I ever told you about my Uncle Matt?"
"No I don't believe you have."
"He stole the Declaration of Independence and is at Leavenworth for now."
"This sounds like a very long story."
"Oh it is. It involves Harm, Bud and Clayton Webb."
"Why am I not surprised ...Mac do all the men you care about end up in prison?"
"Only the ones I love with all my heart."
**********
Harm finished sweeping and mopping the latrines as part of his assigned duties and inspected the floor for any missed areas when two large inmates entered the area. Harm didn't pay any attention to them as they stood up next to the urinals ready to relieve themselves. Instead of using the toilet they started urinating all over the freshly mopped floors.
Harm gripped the mop he was holding and thought about using it on the inmates that sneered at him as they walked through their own urine tracking it through out the room. They stood at the doorway waiting for him to respond. Harm realized they were trying to draw him into a fight that would only get him in trouble so he plopped the mop back into the bucket and preceded to clean up their mess without saying a word.
"Chickenshit." One of the men laughed as they stood watching him repeat his cleaning. Just as Harm finished mopping for the second time, one of them walked over to the bucket of dirty mop water and kicked it over sending the dirty water throughout the floor.
Harm sucked in a deep breath and smiled. "You know I really thought maybe you guys had really lousy aims, but I guess you are trying to tick me off."
"Is he trying to be a smartass, Frank?" The much larger dumber looking one of the pair commented with a chuckle.
"No Walt, he's just being a JAG officer, they're all smartasses. You don't remember me do you Commander?" Frank responded still sneering. "I remember you though. You're the famous Commander Harmon Rabb, JAG's own hero flyboy. You doing some undercover work Commander? Oops, I forgot it's no longer Commander. So you ratted on a client, and now the kid's dead. Oh how the mighty have fallen." He laughed and pushed his friend out the door.
Harm looked around the room struggling with his feelings of powerlessness and kicked the empty bucket across the room. Three hundred and sixty days to go he thought as he pushed the mop.
The routine was predictable and boring. All inmates had to be up and dressed by 0445 with breakfast served at 0500. Harm looked at the meal of runny powdered eggs, greasy fried potatoes, two slices of white bread, luke-warm black coffee and a carton of whole milk that was about the same temperature as the coffee. The same meal was served everyday since he had arrived and would probably be served until he left. Lunch wasn't much better. Two cheese sandwiches on white bread, a piece of fruit and two cartons of milk served promptly at 1100 after morning duty was completed. The hour after lunch was what Harm would have described as free time where he was allowed to go to a room that contained books, a television and several tables where card games were played continuously. Then afternoon work duty followed by an hour in their cells except on Sundays when the prisoners were allowed to see visitors. An equally tasteless dinner heavy on the grease was served at 1630 followed by another hour of free time then showers and lock down. Lights were out at 2000. This was the worst time of the day, Harm was not used to retiring that early and would lay awake for hours with nothing to do but think about his current situation and his ominous future.
He felt a strong ambivalence about the visits from Mac and his former coworkers. Part of him looked forward to the change of routine and the stimulation of his friends' conversation but another part felt embarrassed, awkward and angry. As the days passed he found he didn't want to see anyone because he hated the looks of pity and the awkwardness that his friends tried to disguise. There was no word as to how the note had come into Mac's possession, and Harm began to believe that perhaps unconsciously he had given her the information.
Besides the boredom, he felt isolated and lonely. He was an outcast among outcasts. The guards maintained a professional distance and avoided any social chitchat as dictated by their training. The other inmates looked at him as an enemy. Some he had helped convict, and the others were too afraid to be seen interacting with him.
Usually he sat silently at the table for meals. "You gonna eat that?"
Harm looked up surprised that someone was talking to him.
"I said, you gonna eat that?"
The man that usually sat across from Harm and been transferred and the new guy could have been a tackle for the Green Bay Packers. "No, do you want it?" Harm pushed his tray so the guy could pick out what he wanted.
"Yea," the answer was muffled by food that filled his mouth as he spoke. A large black hand reached and picked up Harm's tray and scraped the contents onto his own tray.
The Green Bay didn't say another word but continued shoveling the food in his mouth. This happened at the other meals until it became a silent ritual. Harm would take a few bites, and Green Bay unceremoniously consumed the rest. Needless to say Harm began to loose weight while Green Bay seemed to just get larger if that where possible.
Harm's mind drifted to when as a new kid in school he had become the target of several of the school bullies. He was struggling to deal with his father's recent disappearance as well as the absence of his now working mother who was trying to cope with her own grief. It was perhaps the worst year of Harm's life. Sensing his vulnerability, the school bullies were constantly tripping him, taking his lunch or finding other ways to embarrass him. He didn't know how to react and was too ashamed to report the behavior. Often he would go home and cry until his mother came home. When she asked about his red eyes and runny nose he told her he was coming down with a cold because he didn't want her to worry. So he suffered in silence and alone.
"If you want the those bullies to leave you alone, make friends with the biggest guy in the class." The squeaky voice of Alfred P. Spanglehouser suggested. Harm had never noticed the spindly red headed freckled face boy wearing glasses that were almost as thick as they were wide in the cafeteria before. "You want part of my sandwich," he then offered after noting Harm's lunchless state.
Harm remembered looking at the odd looking sandwich made from dark brown bread containing some sort of sandwich spread that he couldn't recognize, but he was hungry and took the proffered sandwich. "Thanks, what is it?"
"I made it myself. No meat, I'm a vegetarian," Alfred P. smiled proudly. Harm grinned at his new goofy looking friend, bit down into the sandwich, and was surprised that he liked it or maybe he was just starving for the food and a friend.
Alfred P. as he liked to be called because he thought it made him sound important, and Harm became immediate friends. What Alfred P. lacked in athletic skill he made up for in the classroom. Harm always thought his friend was a genius.
Harm's days of humiliation by the bullies came to an abrupt end when his friendship with Alfred P. also brought along with it an automatic friendship with Tiny. Tiny was at least ten inches taller than any guy in the second grade and weighed at least fifty pounds more. His real name was Lawrence Butts, which had earned him the nickname Lard Butt. Lawrence or Tiny soon found how to use his size to his advantage by pinning one of his antagonists on the floor until he apologized. Tiny was never referred to as Lard Butt again. Alfred P. gave him the name Tiny. For some reason, Lawrence liked it, and it stuck.
Tiny was now Harm's protector as well as any other underdog in the second grade. The trio made an odd group, but life was now much more bearable for Harm.
Harm blinked out of his reverie as the sound of trays clanking and shuffling feet made him realize it was time to leave the cafeteria and go to 'free time'. Frank and Walt moved in front and behind Harm as the line of prisoners dropped trash and emptied trays into the garbage can. As Harm approached the large garbage can Frank stooped down suddenly while Walt reached down and grabbed Harm's legs causing him to plunge into the garbage cans knocking the cans over and to land into the swill. Immediately, the Marine guards shoved them against the wall and ordered them to keep their hands on the wall. Frank and Walt fiend innocence suggesting that apparently Harm had slipped on some spilled food causing the fall. Several nearby inmates quickly supported the lie. Escorted back to his cell, Harm lost free time privileges for the rest of the week. Yep, Harm thought, he was back in the second grade again.
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