Author: Nancy
Disclaimer: JAG and characters don't belong to me. No profit made
here.
Classification: PG-13
Category: Drama
Summary: This is the sequel to A Walk on the Dark Side. Warning references made to rape. "Take My
Breath Away" is from the sound track Top Gun.
I was amazed at the amount and depth of the responses I received for 'A Walk on the Dark Side.' With the help of some very special people who tried to break me of my compulsion to misspell and use commas incorrectly as well as help me keep the subject matter true, I was able to write this sequel. Thank you, Lelia, Karen, Marianne and Brenda. This story is for you! By the way Brenda, I realize I probably missed an opportunity to include a comma or two in this dedication...oh well...on to the story.
PART 1
In a dark smoky bar west of DC a tall handsome man sat at a corner table of his latest haunt drinking the remainder of his fourth or fifth Crown Royal. Actually, it was more of a dive that advertised a live band on the weekends, karaoke on demand and two for one on Tuesday nights. Thursday was ladies night. Tonight was Wednesday...it didn't matter. He had claimed his pew.
Someone dropped money into the jukebox, and slow sultry lyrics soon mingled with the smoke...'watching every motion in my foolish lover's game...watching in slow motion as you turn around and say...take my breath away...take my breath away...watching I keep waiting still anticipating love...never hesitating to become a faded word...turning and returning to some secret place to cry...watching in slow motion as you turn to me and say...take my breath away...watching every motion in this foolish lovers game...'
He recognized the tune from the movie Top Gun. He clutched his glass ready to throw it at the source of the offending sound. It reminded him of how close his life paralleled the movie's hero, but in his reality he wasn't living happily ever after with the girl. Damn, he hated that movie. Instead, he stood up, swaying slightly, and headed towards the door. His overdeveloped superego screamed that he shouldn't be driving, but it wasn't far. Hell, he could land a tomcat on a speck in the ocean. He was a survivor... invincible...yea right! He would just put his Vette on autopilot and soon be home. If he was successful he would pass out and sleep free of the nightmares or maybe, he thought darkly, he would lose control and crash escaping the nightmares forever. How had it come to this?
************
A week earlier
"I can't believe you sold your place." Sturgis shook his head in disbelief. "From what you told me you pretty much did all the remodeling by yourself."
Harm nodded casually, "You know me. I always need a new project, so I found a house that needed some work. It has a garage to park the Vette. I may even get a dog." He smiled.
"Well buddy, if you need any help remodeling give me a call."
"Who's remodeling?" Mac intercepted the two naval commanders as they entered the bullpen to JAG headquarters.
"I am," Harm replied with a small smile.
"I thought you liked your place," Mac said clearly surprised by the news.
"I did, I just want something different," Harm replied nonchalantly looking at his watch. "I've got to be in court in ten. See you later."
"Commander Rabb, Captain Spears is waiting in your office." Lt. Harriet Sims caught the retreating officer just before he left the bullpen.
"Damn, I forgot to notify him and reschedule. I have to be in court all morning. Harriet would you make my apologies and reschedule him for this afternoon or tomorrow?" Harm pleaded as he glanced again at his watch.
"Sure Sir," Harriet stammered as the tall officer turned and left her with the unpleasant duty of informing an already rankled officer of the change.
"Harriet are you alright?" Mac approached the unhappy lieutenant.
"Commander Rabb double scheduled and now I get the wonderful honor of informing Captain Crunch over there of the change. If he starts blasting me, come to my rescue," Harriet replied. "This is the third time this has happened in the past two weeks."
"Canceling Captain Crunch?" Mac's eyes rounded.
"No, the double scheduling. Harm's usually not one to be so disorganized, but for the past few months it's been one thing after another...he's double scheduled, misplaced documents and one day he forgot an appointment altogether. I don't think the Admiral is too thrilled with his performance lately," Harriet explained with a sigh. "Bud just tells me to give him time. That he'll get past it, whatever it is. Something's not going on between you two?" Harriet probed gently.
Mac rolled her eyes. "I've been just as concerned as you about Harm's behavior lately. Look, I'll handle the Captain Crunch," Mac offered sympathetically.
"Thank you Ma'am and his name isn't Crunch, it's Spears." Harriet smiled in relief.
**********
Mac looked up from her desk to see her partner pass towards his office. She lay the file down and followed. He dropped his briefcase tiredly on his desk and rubbed his head and eyes not aware that she was observing his behavior.
"Rough day?"
He spun around and straightened up replacing his tension filled look with a smile. "Mac, I didn't hear you."
She walked further into his office and closed the door behind her. "You didn't answer my question."
"What question?" Harm responded innocently.
Mac walked closer to him and looked at him with a frown. "Harm, stop trying to pretend nothing is going on. You know that you haven't been yourself lately."
"I haven't? If I haven't been myself, who have I been?" He chuckled half-heartedly at his own failed attempt at humor.
"I don't know. You've been irritable, forgetful and withdrawn."
"Okay so I forgot an appointment. I didn't realize you were keeping score of my mistakes," he snapped.
"This is exactly what I'm talking about Harm! You know I'm not trying to point out your shortcomings. I'm just concerned."
"Well, if you're my friend then just back off," he replied sharply.
Mac stared at him and shook her head. "Okay, now is not the time to finish this discussion, but we *will* finish this. Oh and Captain Spears will return at 1400," she said firmly and walked out of the office shutting the door behind her.
"Damn," Harm whispered to himself and collapsed into his chair pulling open his desk drawer to retrieve the almost empty bottle of extra strength pain reliever.
*********
"Jack, I thought things would get better. It's been weeks, but I can't seem to maintain my concentration. I'm making a fool of myself at work with all the mistakes I've made." Harm paced in the cluttered, book lined office of his counselor.
"You told me that you experienced a ramp strike on a carrier. How long did it take for you to get back into a tomcat?" Jack leaned forward propping his elbows on his knees.
Harm looked at him in frustration. "Years, I went to law school and changed my designator."
"Okay what about last year when you crashed in the Atlantic?"
"About three months. Are you trying to tell me that it's going to take somewhere between three months and three years for me to feel normal again?" Harm asked impatiently.
"I'm just trying to show you that it takes time to recover." Jack leaned back and gestured for Harm to take a seat.
Harm dropped into the worn overstuffed leather chair without responding.
"Let's talk about those crashes. The first one you told me about was related to some night blindness."
"Yes, that's the one where my RIO was killed."
"RIO?"
"The guy in the back seat."
"You felt responsible?"
"Still do."
"But you went back up."
"I love flying. I went back up with an old friend who was the CAG; he's over all the pilots on a carrier. I was in his back seat. We were on a recon mission and took fire. He was wounded and unconscious. I had to get us back to the carrier."
"I see you landed successfully." Jack nodded encouragingly.
"It was dark, I could barely see, and I was scared, but I didn't think the CAG would survive ejecting."
"So the reason you're flying now is because you were forced to face those demons."
"Why do I feel like the point of this conversation isn't about flying?" Harm chuckled mirthlessly.
"It never was...it's about surviving...something you've done before and you'll do again."
************
"This place is great!" Sergei proclaimed as he unloaded another box and headed into the rambling older home located in the eastern outskirts of Leesburg.
"I think it will be." Harm looked around his new home. It needed some boards replaced on the porch and cried out for a new paint job inside and out, but the roof was new and the plumbing and electrical systems were sound. The land was what attracted him to the location. He no longer had the convenience of the city, but he now owned five acres along with a shop. He had privacy and most of all he no longer had to walk pass the landing outside his old apartment and relive the attack. He was now closer to his beloved biplane, which was an added bonus and gave him an acceptable excuse for the move.
"In Russia you would be considered very wealthy to own a house such as this," Sergei added excitedly.
"This place has three bedrooms and two and a half baths. I meant it when I said you could move in." Harm smiled.
"You should fill those bedrooms with children!" Sergei grinned.
"Need a wife first," Harm chuckled.
"I'm sure that would not be such an impossible problem to solve," Sergei retorted with a sly smile.
"Put those boxes over there." Harm purposefully ignored his brother's remark.
"When is Mac coming to see your new house?"
Harm again ignored his brother's comment and proceeded to unpack his books and place them on an oak-lined bookshelf. The house needed a facelift but it had tons of character. The study was his favorite...original tongue and grove oak paneling with bookshelves that occupied two full walls.
*******
"What do you think you can do to help yourself to feel safe again?" Jack had asked him.
"Besides carrying a loaded side arm around all the time? Move," Harm had responded.
********
Harm had to admit he was finally beginning to feel in control again. The house gave him something to focus on when he wasn't at work, and the commute gave him time to organize his thoughts so he could function more smoothly. The move had been a good choice, he decided as he drove into the JAG headquarters parking lot.
"Good morning Commander! The Admiral said he wanted to see you as soon as you made it in," Tiner greeted as Harm dropped his cover and briefcase on his desk.
He made his way across the bullpen to the Admiral's office joined by Lt. Bud Roberts who was heading to the same destination.
"Morning Bud. It looks like the Admiral has something for the two of us. I heard there was a problem on the Roosevelt." Harm greeted.
"Well I doubt I'll be going to a carrier or any other ship." The response sounded downhearted.
Harm paused and looked to his friend. "You think the Admiral is avoiding sending you on assignments to sea going vessels?"
"Well, it's been right at six months since I've returned and all I've been given is office work and assignments that basically keep me here. What do you think?"
"Do you feel ready?"
"Yes."
"Then I think you should talk with him about it. I'll support you all the way." Harm patted Bud lightly on the shoulder as the two men entered their CO's office.
Harm's mind drifted as he realized it had been six months. He needed to make a call.
*****flashback*****
"Mr. Rabb, we will draw baseline blood work for HIV and Hepatitis C. Then we will repeat the tests in six months. You'll need to call for an appointment," the lab technician explained. Harm numbly watched the technician expertly draw several vials of blood. The bastards were dead, but they still had control...they still had the power to hurt him in his dreams and in his wakening. "All finished. We'll send a copy of the results to your physician." Harm nodded impassively, slid his sleeve down, and walked absently out of the room, wondering if he survive the next six months.
**********
"Commander!"
"Sir?" Harm snapped to attention. He had drifted again.
Chegwidden looked over his reading glasses and glared at his senior officer. "Like I was saying, I just received this from the appeals committee. The Duram case was granted an appeal."
Both Harm and Bud drew in a sharp breath. The Admiral paused before continuing. "Commander you will be assigned to defend." Harm's face paled.
"Sir, Duram was my case." Bud immediately interjected while casting a concerned side-glance at Harm.
The Admiral looked warily at the two officers in front of him. "Lieutenant, inadequate defense was the reason cited for the appeal. I wanted to let you know up front. Duram's family hired a private attorney to review the case files. Your recent return from a traumatic injury was used as an excuse. The attorney stated that you were not mentally prepared to deal with a case of this magnitude." the Admiral grunted with disgust.
"But Sir, the evidence was overwhelming. I couldn't make his crime go away." Bud responded defensively as he battled with his feelings of inadequacy and anger.
"Sir that's a load of bull. I was pulled from the case. Why in the hell am I defending him now? What about his civilian attorney?" Harm responded clearly unhappy with the assignment.
"Duram requested you!" The Admiral's voice rose as his Senior officer's voice tone escalated. "He felt that the case was going in his favor until Mr. Roberts took over. His civilian attorney will assist you."
"But Sir, I assisted Lt. Roberts," Harm stammered backing off from his earlier tone.
The Admiral stood up and frowned at the officer. "Commander Rabb, don't remind me that you were performing activities that I did not authorize. I could have charged you with disobeying orders! Besides, this was not my decision."
Both Bud and Harm stood stiffly at attention staring at the wall immediately behind the Admiral. The Admiral could feel the hostility radiating from the two men.
"Sir, I respectfully request to refuse this assignment." Harm's voice reflected the carefully controlled tension he felt.
"Mr. Roberts you are dismissed," Chegwidden hissed.
Bud gave Harm a quick sympathetic glance before leaving the two officers alone in the office.
"Okay Commander give me one good reason why you can't take this case." Chegwidden leaned back against his desk with his arms folded in front of himself.
"Sir, I can't. Please trust me that it would not be in anyone's best interest for me to act as defense counsel." Harm's voice wavered slightly.
The Admiral grimaced with concern. "Commander, I need a better reason than that. The SecNav personally requested that you take this case. Seems that Private Timothy Duram the Third is the grandson of T.C. Duram the CEO of Duram Steel. Duram Steel is one of the Navy's major contractors."
Harm sneered. "So the SecNav wants him freed because of his connections."
"Watch what you are implying Mister!" the Admiral shot back. "Timothy Duram Senior wanted his grandson to use his personal attorney and not include you, but the Private insisted that you are the best. The SecNav also felt that you would make sure no stone was left unturned and the case could be put to rest!"
"Sir, I repeat that I would not be the best defense attorney for Duram," Harm pleaded.
"Dammit Commander give me a good reason you can't." The Admiral's tone was icy. He then softened his demeanor. "Harm why can't you trust me?"
Harm looked down. "I guess for the same reason you can't trust me."
The Admiral drew in a deep breath before responding. "Duram is being transferred from Leavenworth today. You can see him later this afternoon. Mr. Dalton Biddle, his civilian attorney will be contacting you. Dismissed." He then sat down at his desk, put on his glasses, and began to read.
Harm didn't leave immediately, but stood agonizing whether to tell the Admiral his reasons.
The Admiral looked up. "Do you have anything else to say Commander?"
"No sir." Harm turned and exited the office, shutting the door behind him a little more roughly than he should.
Bud waited outside the office when Harm appeared. Harm's nonverbal communication told Bud everything he needed to know about the outcome of the meeting. "Commander."
"Not now Bud." Harm spoke quietly staring ahead as he walked stiffly to his office.
Harm's phone was ringing when he entered his office. "Rabb!"
"Commander! This must be my lucky day. I got you with my first call. This is Dalton Biddle. You and I will be working together with Mr. Duram. I wanted to meet with you as soon as possible." The voice was much too exuberant for Harm's mood.
"I'm pretty busy today," Harm replied dryly.
"Well, I guess I could talk with an Admiral Chegwidden and see if your schedule could be lightened." The threat was smooth. "Look, I don't like this anymore than you, but the sooner we get started, the sooner it will be finished. How about you meet me for lunch at Cagney's. It's a new place on..."
"I know where it is. I'll be there at 1300." Harm slammed the phone down and picked up his empty coffee mug and mentally threw it at his framed law school diploma.
*******
Harm rubbed the puncture site on the inner surface of his elbow nervously as he waited at the table Bittle had reserved. It was 1315 and Harm was just about to take flight when a man in his late forties approached with an extended hand.
"Sorry I'm late Commander. I hope you went ahead and ordered." The large muscular man with graying blonde hair and a deep tan grinned broadly showing all of his perfectly white teeth. "They already know what I like here," he added arrogantly.
"I'm not hungry," Harm replied flatly mentally adding a few more reasons not to like the man to his list as he sipped on a glass of water.
"Nonsense! The steaks here are the best." Bittle signaled for the waiter. "My friend here would like the house steak."
The waiter nodded and looked to Harm. "How would you like it prepared?"
"Reincarnated as a fish! I don't eat meat," Harm responded icily at Bittle.
"The salmon steak is out of this world." Bittle grinned tightly ignoring the daggers his lunch companion aimed at him.
Harm took the menu from the waiter, picked out the most expensive thing, and ordered to get rid of the hovering servant.
"Okay, let me put it to you straight. I think Duram is guilty as sin, and I hope he rots in prison for what he's done. The only reason I'm here is because I'm under orders. If I can find any way out of this assignment, I will."
"Commander, Commander," he responded as if talking to an insolent child. "Your action could possibly get my client's verdict overturned if it's proven that his trial counsel was not performing his duty. That would reflect poorly on the Navy wouldn't you agree?" Bittle smiled. "Besides, what does it matter? We're his attorneys. It's just a job." Bittle lazily sipped his glass of wine.
Harm could feel what little control he had slipping away. "It does matter because that son of a bitch raped someone's mother, daughter and wife. He doesn't need to be released to do it again!" His words were soft and barbed.
"Is this were you stand up and recite the Pledge of the Allegiance?" Bittle responded sarcastically. "Look Commander, stop preaching and let's get down to business. I'm sure this isn't the first time you've helped get some guilty bastard off."
Harm gritted his teeth. "If I did I didn't do it knowingly."
"The kid deserves a chance."
"Not in this case."
"Oh, but you've had your share of second chances. I've read about you Rabb, don't sound so sanctimonious, two DFC's and a good possibility of one on the way. Nevertheless, you've had your share of bad luck too...lost a RIO on a ramp strike, flew a forty million-dollar aircraft into the Atlantic last year. You screwed up and came out smelling like a rose. Sounds like you should run for public office." The obnoxious man chuckled loudly.
Harm allowed a small malicious smile to form on his lips. "Don't put me in the same category as Duram. Nice tactic, trying to see how I respond under pressure. I thought we were supposed to be working together. If you want the case all by yourself, I would have gladly given it to you on a silver platter, but I didn't have a choice."
Bittle dropped the loud intruding personality and stared at the officer in front of him sizing him up. "Almost had you, didn't I Commander."
"Close only counts in horseshoes."
"And darts." Bittle grinned. "Duram Senior has been a client of my firm for years. I don't intend on having you or his grandson giving him anymore grief than he already has been through this year," he added coolly.
"Mr. Bittle, I don't give a damn about the Durams or their money. I especially couldn't care less about your intentions."
"Now that we've put all the cards on the table, I'll be perfectly honest."
Harm's eyebrow raised doubtfully.
"I don't know why the kid insists that you remain his primary counsel, but for whatever reason I need you." Bittle's eyes darkened. "Little Timmy wants to talk with you alone this afternoon. I expect full disclosure on anything related to this case. If you do anything to purposefully sabotage this case, I promise you that you not only will lose your license to practice law, but you will be brought up on charges for dereliction or duty. Because Commander, I have personally guaranteed Senior that little Timmy will not serve anymore time in jail than necessary."
"Sounds like you are threatening me Mr. Bittle."
"No Commander, what is the maxim? It's not a threat, it's a promise." His toothy grin gleamed dangerously.
The food arrived, and Harm looked down at the dish of veal. "Like I said earlier, I don't eat beef, and I don't give a rat's ass about your intentions or your promises. Good day Mr. Bittle." Harm nodded coldly as he left.
********
Harm managed to calm down before driving to the Naval Yard brig where Private Timothy Duram awaited trial. Somehow he had to convince the Duram that he had no chance in hell of winning his appeal, but that would mean using a major bluff.
Duram sat in orange coveralls in a conference room. His big blue eyes and blonde wavy hair made him look almost childlike. Harm gritted his teeth as he approached the younger man.
"Commander Rabb! I'm so glad you decided to defend me. You were doing a great job before, and I believe you can help me again." Duram said excitedly.
"Cut the line of crap Duram. You know I didn't volunteer for this. Furthermore, you know that you are guilty of all the crimes your were convicted of plus more," Harm said coldly and pulled a small leather notepad from his pocket.
Duram gave him an innocent shocked look. "Sir? I didn't do it really. I was set up by Lott and those guys."
"I saw the videotape Duram. The one that you helped direct!" Harm hissed.
Duram's face became indifferent. "Okay, I may have filmed one incident, but no one can prove I raped anyone. Besides, the bitch asked for it."
Harm almost went over the table separating them as he grabbed the younger man by the front of his coveralls. "No one deserves what you did to that woman!"
Duram grinned sardonically, "Sounds like you are identifying with the victims Commander. Empathy is when you can relate because you've BEEN there. Right Commander? But no one knows about that, do they Commander. I guess you don't want that little piece of information to get out. What would all your flyboy and legal eagle buddies think?"
Harm felt his gut lurch. "What do you want?" Harm's asked with a softly strained voice.
"You don't sound so high and mighty now Commander." Duram smiled. "The way I see it is that I was framed, and you can help prove it."
"And I actually doubted your guilt at first," Harm snorted in frustration.
"Yea, I knew I had you going, but the evidence was pretty damaging reducing my chances of acquittal. I was freaked, so I threatened to tell about our little club if Herndon, Stogner and Lott didn't do something to help me. So Herndon came up with a plan. Lott was getting spooked, so Herndon and Stogner apparently decided Lott was a liability. They assured me that Lott would take the wrap and I would be sprung. " Duram huffed angrily, "The backup plan was to let me take the wrap, but I didn't know that part of the plan. They had to get you out of the way so Lott would be blamed for blackmailing you, or I'd be convicted. Sooo you got the little visit." Duram chuckled as he watched Harm's face twitch in anger. "It started to backfire on them when you and Roberts started poking around. The rest you know," he recited without any sign of remorse.
"Why do you want me to defend you during this appeal? You have Granddaddy's money and his low life lawyers." Harm shook his head in disbelief.
"Insurance, as my attorney you can't testify against me."
"I couldn't testify against you anyway."
"I couldn't have you wondering around screwing things up for me!"
"Well I have the tape of your directing debut." Harm lied.
"And I have a tape too. Herndon made a copy for me at my request and placed it in a safe place. I think everyone would find it quite entertaining. You were the star." Duram smiled viciously.
*************
"So what's the news?" Jack leaned his leather chair back precariously with his feet propped upon a matching ottoman.
"My tests came back negative, and I moved," Harm replied tonelessly.
"For some reason I kinda expected a different sort of emotional response," Jack responded with his usual semi sarcastic candor.
"Sorry to disappoint you. Life just sucks sometimes, doesn't it." Harm's come back was caustic.
"Okay, let's talk about the move. Do you feel safer now?" Jack dropped his feet off the ottoman and leaned forward. Something he always did when he really wanted to focus on his client.
"No."
"No?"
"There is an old saying that says you can run but you can't hide." Harm released a deep breath and leaned back into his chair and propped his feet on the vacated ottoman that was positioned between the two facing chairs.
"Have you been physically threatened?" Jack usually didn't ask closed ended sentences, but today he was two for three.
"Not physically, I've been ordered to defend the scum who initiated the chain of events that brought me here." Harm shook his head.
Jack raised his eyebrows but remained silent waiting for his client to continue.
"He's won an appeal and requested me specifically to defend him. He's using the fact that I don't want the dirty little details of my attack advertised. On top of that, he's got a sleazy lawyer threatening to have me brought up on charges if I try to get out of the case. It would look bad for his client." Harm's demeanor reminded Jack of his first few weeks of counseling with his client. Jack winced at the set back.
"What options do you have?"
"Oh, I could defend the bastard and get him off so he can continue his extracurricular activities of raping and live with the nightmares. On the other hand, I could resign my commission and not have to defend the guy giving him a 50/50 chance of acquittal, and be disgusted with myself. Last but not least, I could go to the prosecution and tell them everything, loose my license and spend some time in Leavenworth. But hey, at least I go to prison experienced," he added with a bitter laugh.
"But I thought you told your CO that you were assaulted by the men involved in this case. I don't understand how he would allow you to be part of it again."
"There was never a connection made between my client and those men. Besides, he's got his orders. Seems my client has connections."
"Have you considered talking with your commanding officer about these latest threats, it's Admiral Chegwidden right?"
"Oh yes Sir, I've thought about it. I've even rehearsed what I would say a thousand times. You want to here it?" Harm stood up and paced the room with his hands grasped behind him.
"Admiral Chegwidden with all due respect, I want you to reconsider your decision to assign me to this case. You asked for one good reason why I shouldn't serve as defense counsel, well here it is. My client was involved with the men who attacked me. They have a club that thinks rape is a manly activity. I can't prove it though, you're just going to have to take my word because I destroyed the evidence. Oh and by the way, did I tell you that I was one of their trophies? That was why I couldn't seem to function when I tried to defend the scum in the first place. Yes sir, I know that you must find this all hard to believe. And no sir, I won't ever let it happen again. I'll let them slit my throat, or I'll do my damnedest to slit theirs before I let it happen again. You know I don't make promises I don't intend to keep!" Harm's tone was deadly in the end.
"You think your commanding officer would place blame on you for what happened?" Jack asked incredulously.
"He believes strongly in taking self responsibility." Harm sighed. "But I don't know what he would think, and I don't want to find out."
Jack remained impassive. "You didn't mention a fourth option."
Harm smiled bitterly. "I could do a little vigilante justice of my own."
"I have to ask you this. Are you planning on hurting yourself or someone else?"
"Am I planning on jumping off any bridges? No, but I sometimes find myself wishing that I didn't survive my crash last year. I wouldn't have had to deal with this." His seemed to drift for a moment before continuing. "Am I planning to be judge, jury and executioner for my client? No. Been there and almost made that mistake when a former girlfriend was murdered. I'll resign first."
"All crisis are time limited. Six months ago one of your greatest fears was possibly contracting AIDS or hepatitis. That threat is gone. Just remember that in six months this will not be the focus of your life. After your ramp strike, you told me you spent months recovering, but each day got a little better. Then you had to make a decision about your career and now you are a JAG and a pilot. You are a survivor."
"And being a JAG set me up for all of this. At least when I'm up in a tomcat I have guns and a fighting chance." Harm had balled his hands into tight fists as he responded angrily.
Jack paused allowing Harm to calm down before responding. "Harm tell me about your decision to become an attorney."
"A JAG investigating my ramp strike interviewed me. He pushed me to have my eyes examined, which later proved that I had an eye defect that contributed to the crash. He was focused on finding the truth. I was thankful for what he did for me. Most people don't think very highly of my profession, but when you are the one on the receiving end of the charges or have been violated in some way, that profession takes on a whole new perspective." Harm looked directly into his counselor's eyes as he explained.
"Harm, I have this feeling that you're quite an attorney, and that you've never gone down without a fight in the courtroom or in the air."
"That's a nice compliment, but that doesn't stop this nightmare."
"Do you still have nightmares about the ramp strike?"
"Sometimes."
"Do you still feel responsible for the death of your RIO?"
"I believe that I should have been aware that I wasn't one hundred percent. I think that maybe my own pride got in the way of admitting that to myself."
"You went back to flying." Jack continued to lead the direction of the interaction.
"I had my vision surgically corrected and changed my designator to full time aviator."
"And the reason was...?"
"It wasn't my decision to stop flying, and I wanted to make it my choice. I wanted to prove to myself that I could make good judgements in the air."
"And did you?"
"I believe I'm a much better pilot than I was."
"You came back to JAG...your choice?"
"Yes, if I would have stayed my career would have come to a dead end. And I realized that I liked being a lawyer."
"And you've flown since," Jack stated knowingly.
"Every chance I can." Harm smiled.
"You've received two medals for outstanding flying and survived a crash in the ocean...right?"
"And you got this information from where?"
"I cruised the Internet and found the information in the Navy Times...public knowledge." Jack grinned and then became serious. "This is just an observation, but for a part time pilot, you have placed yourself in some very dangerous situations."
"Any time a Naval aviator flies, that pilot is putting him or herself in danger."
"But how many of these are part time aviators that have received Distinguished Flying Crosses as a result?" Jack held Harm's gaze.
"What are you trying to imply? That I am an adrenaline junkie, and I take unnecessary risks?" Harm replied defensively.
"I'm just trying to understand what makes you take those risks. I know that there are full time pilots available to do what you've done. Perhaps you are still trying to make up for the death of your RIO?"
Harm's face flushed in anger. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Harm, what made you choose to become a Naval aviator? Your dad? Were you trying to finish what he started?"
"Go to hell."
"Harm tell me one major decision you've made in your life that wasn't based on guilt?"
Harm jumped up from the chair and got into Jack's face. The counselor remained calm.
"You think you can talk with me for an hour a week for a few months and figure me out? You have no idea who I am!" Harm yelled barely restraining himself from physically lashing out at the man before him.
"Who are you Harmon Rabb? Tell me about yourself besides the fact that you are the son of a Naval aviator that was MIA. Don't describe yourself in terms of your job. I admit that guys tend to do that. We define ourselves by our occupations. We measure our worth by our successes in our jobs. Who are you?"
Harm's anger seemed to deflate almost instantaneously. "You sound like an old girlfriend of mine." He chuckled nervously as he eased back into the chair. He grew somber and paused to think before responding. "I'm a person who has set high standards for himself; I try to put into practice my values. I value self-sacrifice, self- responsibility, integrity, hard work, honesty and friendship. I have always believed that if you worked hard enough you could achieve whatever goals you set for yourself."
"That's interesting that you should include self-sacrifice first. You are really good at that."
"You make it sound like I'm fixated on martyrdom," Harm replied flatly. "I've indulged in my share of extravagances," he added with a mirthless chuckle.
"Are you? You just seem to take many chances for others. That is very noble, but not very human," Jack suggested.
"There are lots of people who put it on the line everyday...look at the policemen and firemen in New York City or in any other city. What about the active military personnel in Afghanistan? I am nothing compared to them," Harm replied emphatically.
"Are you trying to prove your worth? Do you feel like you're not doing your part if you don't take risks? Speaking of risks, you've never married. That's probably the greatest risk of all." Jack didn't grin sardonically like he usually did when he was teasing.
"Are you trying to tick me off for a reason?" Harm rubbed his eyes tiredly and smiled unhappily.
"I guess I'm like you in that I value honesty and truth." Jack smiled lightly.
"You've asked me so many questions I don't know where to respond."
"Tell me what motivated you to take the actions that led to your receiving those DFC's."
"DFC's? You have been reading." Harm shook his head and continued. "I was the only one who could help in both of those situations. If I wouldn't have taken those risks, the people involved could have been killed or taken prisoner."
"Like your RIO and your father."
"Like my RIO and my father," Harm repeated thoughtfully. "Maybe I am still trying to save them."
"What you did was very brave. Those persons that benefited from your actions were able to go home to their families because of you. Sometimes life puts us in the position to help someone, and when it does, we should. Just try to understand your motives for helping. No matter how many people you save, you can't change the past." Jack removed his glasses and tilted his head slightly as he spoke.
"Here's the 64,000 dollar question. What does all of this have to do with my current situation?" Harm sighed impatiently.
"It's about understanding who you are and what is important to you. It's about understanding what was truly damaged the night of your violation. It's about identifying your real fears."
Harm frowned but remained thoughtfully silent.
"Time's almost up for today. We've covered a lot of ground. You've been able to tell me a little more about Harmon Rabb. Thank you for that. I've posed some challenging questions for you to think about and when you return let's talk about them," Jack summarized as he observed his totally exhausted client began to stand up and stretch.
********
Harm drove home replaying the session in his mind. He felt more confused than he had since all of this had begun. Had he been selfishly trying to relieve his own personal pain all of these years. He just wanted to make his dad proud of him, a dad who had died years ago. Would his father be proud of him now? He couldn't understand the shame and helplessness he felt, or could he?
He pulled into his driveway and exited his car. After retrieving a beer from the refrigerator he stripped down to his t-shirt and put on some jeans before going out onto his back porch. He stared out into the starlit night. "Dad, I've made you into some sort of saint instead of a real person. All the ideals that I thought you stood for and wanted for me have become a little heavy for me lately. Maybe it's time for me to try to start figuring out who I want to be."
After sitting for hours, he stood up slowly and opened the squeaking screened door into his kitchen. The light to his answering machine was blinking. Debating whether he wanted to answer it he stared at the machine willing the light to stop it's pulsating flicker. Finally, he punched the play messages button. "You have three messages. Message one...'Commander Rabb this is Dalton Bittle, call me as soon as you get in. I need to discuss some defense strategies with you.'...message two...'Commander, this is Bud. I was just calling to check on you. Call me if you need to talk or anything.'...message three...'Harm, you seemed a little distressed today. If you need to talk, I'm here. Call or come by, you know I don't sleep that much at night. I'm just dusting off my dinosaur bones.'" All the messages provoked a deep aching inside because of the same reason, but in different ways. He felt so damn powerless and alone. Tiredly he deleted the messages and went to bed.
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