Season X – Episode 4
“Scar Tissue" 
 

By Jared Chapman

  

Disclaimer:  I do not own JAG, or any of its
characters used in this story.  Those of you who
do…please don’t sue me.  I’m just another one of the
thousands of fans who love your shows and I am not
profiting in any way from this story.  Those of you
who read this story…please do not copy or redistribute
it.  You could get me in trouble and that’s just not
nice!  However, if you wish to archive it, please send
me an email and I will be happy to say ok!

  

Rating: PG-13

  

Category:  Entire series will be Harm/Mac and Other
Romance

  

Spoilers:  A little bit of everything to date.

  

Summary:  Episode 4 of the fictional season entitled
“Season X.”  Mac and Bud find themselves on opposite
sides of a case that hits too close to home. 
Meanwhile, in Afghanistan, our favorite spook is hot
on the trail of some missing weapons.

  

Feedback:  jared2142@hotmail.com

  

Archive: BTL

  

  

2236 Local Time

Friday 8/8

Patterson Residence

Norfolk, Virginia

  

  

---Scene opens outside of an average looking suburban
home.  Camera moves towards the house as if you are
looking thru the eyes of someone walking towards the
door.  Then scene shifts to inside the house where a
young boy is asleep in front of the TV---

  

  

Thirteen-year-old Doug Patterson shifted slightly in
his sleep when he heard the front door open.  He’d
spent most of that evening watching television while
his father was out with his friends.  Somehow, he’d
managed to fall asleep on the couch.  Suddenly, he was
jarred out his sleep by two powerful hands on his
shoulders.  The young boy felt himself being jerked up
from the couch and he was suddenly starring into the
eyes of Master Chief Daniel Patterson, his father.

  

“What is that TV still doing on, you lazy brat!” the
chief slurred, obviously very drunk.  Doug didn’t
answer.  He knew that if he did, he would only make
the inevitable that much worse.

  

“Answer me, you worthless little wimp!” he screamed,
shaking Doug as hard as he could, the look in his eyes
terrifying his young son.  Then his eyes took on an
even more menacing look and Doug knew that this was
going to be one of the really bad ones.  Before he had
time to realize what was happening, the young boy
found himself being hurled over the couch.  His head
hit the kitchen counter with a sickening crack and he
crumpled to the floor as a pool of blood formed next
to his head.

  

Slowly, the master chief walked around the couch to
survey the damage he’d caused.  When he saw the pool
of blood, he immediately rushed the rest of the way
over and checked for a pulse.  Tears came rushing from
his eyes as he realized that there was none.

  

“What have I done?”

  

  

---Cut to Opening Credits---

  

*    *    *    *     *

  

  

0824 Local Time

Friday 8/15

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

  

“Welcome back, flyboy,” Mac said with a smile as she
poked her head into Harm’s office.  Harm and Cindy had
been in California for most of the week on an
investigation, and Mac was glad that her favorite pair
of gold wings was back in the office.

  

“Thanks, Mac,” he replied, returning her smile with a
breathtaking one of his own.  If for no other reason
than his smile, Mac simply couldn’t go for long
without him.  He motioned for her to come in, and she
did so, closing the door behind her.  It was the first
time that they had really been alone since their kiss
in her office and the romantic dinner that had
followed.  He got up from his chair and walked around
towards her slowly.

  

“I missed you, Marine,” he said softly, taking her
hands as he reached her.

  

“I missed you too, flyboy,” she replied, as he leaned
in for a kiss.  His lips never made it that far,
though, as a loud knock was heard at the door.

  

“Enter,” he said automatically, dropping Mac’s hands
and taking a small step back.  When the door opened it
was the Gunny, looking for Mac.

  

“Ma’am, the admiral asked me to find you and let you
know that he needs to see you and Lieutenant Alton,
ASAP.”

  

“Thank you, Gunny.  We’ll be right there,” she replied
and the Gunny quickly left to find the other two
attorneys that he’d been asked to round up.  When the
door was closed again, Mac looked up at Harm.

  

“We’ll be finishing this conversation later,
Commander,” she said using her best Marine Colonel
voice, but she was betrayed by the radiant smile that
played across her features.  Harm was just sure that
that smile would eventually cause him to melt right in
front of her.  His only recourse was to combat it with
a flyboy grin.

  

“I don’t know about you, Marine, but I think the
conversation part of this encounter was pretty much
over,” he replied, in that cocky aviator voice that
she pretended to hate and yet secretly loved.

  

“I think you may be right, Commander.  We’ll continue
it regardless,” she said as she sashayed her way out
of his office.  He just stood there for a few seconds,
trying as hard as he could to wipe off the goofy grin
that was currently stuck to his face.

  

  

---Cut to inside Admiral Chegwidden’s office – several
minutes later---

  

  

“Come in and have a seat,” A.J. said quickly before
the four officers that had just entered his office
could come to attention.  Mac, Tim, Bud, and Sturgis
all followed his directive and took seats in front of
his desk.

  

“Last Friday night, just before midnight, a Master
Chief Daniel Patterson called 911 and told the
operator that his son was dead.  Upon their arrival,
the Norfolk police found thirteen-year-old Doug
Patterson lying dead from a blunt trauma to the head.”
he began, handing Sturgis and Mac each a copy of the
case file.  “The Master Chief was intoxicated when the
police arrived.  He claims that his son slipped on the
kitchen floor and hit his head on the counter.  The
police and NIS are not so sure.  Upon examining the
boy, NIS agents found fresh bruises on his shoulders
consistent with the patterns of a man’s hands and
traces of possible previous abuse.  After reviewing
the NIS report, I am recommending that Master Chief
Patterson be detained pending a Court Martial. 
Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts with
prosecute.  Colonel Mackenzie and Lieutenant Alton,
you will defend.  That is all.”

  

“Aye-aye, Sir,” they all responded in unison as they
stood to leave.  As they made their way thru the outer
office and towards the bullpen, Mac saw Harm and Cindy
on their way to make their report to the Admiral.  He
smiled when he saw her, but after the news of this new
assignment, Mac had trouble returning the smile.  This
didn’t go unnoticed by Harm as they passed and he made
a mental note to see her as soon as he was done in the
Admiral’s office.

  

“Commander, Captain, please come in,” Harm and Cindy
heard their boss say as they reached the outer office.
 “I’ve read your report.  That was good work you did
out there,” he said once they were inside.

  

“Thank you, Sir,” they responded in unison.

  

“Why don’t the two of you take the rest of the day
off?  Get out of here and don’t come back until
Monday,” A.J. said with a big smile, which caught the
two younger officers off-guard.  Harm instantly
wondered what happened to the Admiral Chegwidden that
he knew, but he decided not to ask.

  

“Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir,” Harm responded for both
of them and they quickly turned and made their way out
of his office, both afraid that he might be joking. 
A.J. just sat back in his chair and smiled, then he
picked up the phone and dialed.

  

“Yes, can I speak to Dr. Walden, please?”

  

  

---Cut to Army Field Center – Kabul, Afghanistan –
same time---

  

  

Clayton Webb strode purposefully into the Army field
center outside of Kabul, Afghanistan.  After the
report that Mac and Tim had filed upon their return to
the states, Clay had immediately taken it upon himself
to investigate the missing weapons from the truck
convoy.  He’d been in Afghanistan for just over a week
now and so far he had few leads, so he’d decided to
bring the Army in on the investigation.  Soon he
reached the office of Colonel Dempsey and he placed
three solid knocks on the door.

  

“Enter,” the Colonel replied and Clay made his way
into the office.  “Ah, Mr. Webb, I hear you are
investigating the missing weapons that the Navy JAGs
discovered.”

  

“That’s right, Colonel.  I’ve come to ask for your
assistance.  I am meeting with mostly dead ends and I
was hoping you might have some ideas,” Clay responded,
very much annoyed that he had to ask for help.

  

“Mr. Webb, this is my senior intelligence officer,
Major Alfred Faulk, of Delta Force,” he said,
introducing the other man in the room, a tall,
dark-haired, officer with a long red scar under his
left eye.  “He knows the local militia tribes better
than anyone.  I am going to lend him to you for your
investigation.”

  

“Thank you, Colonel,” he responded while extending a
hand to Major Faulk.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,
Major.”

  

“Likewise, Mr. Webb,” the Major replied.  “What do we
know so far?”

  

“Well, Colonel Mackenzie and Lieutenant Alton of the
Navy’s JAG Corp were attacked while investigating a
helicopter incident a couple of weeks ago.  They were
pinned down, but managed to turn the tables and
escape.  Before they took out the terrorists, Colonel
Mackenzie overheard a conversation regarding an attack
on our consulate in Naples.  When they made their
report, I immediately hopped on a plane over here and
have since been trying to get information from the
locals.  So far, I have nothing.  That’s where you
come in.  My contacts in this region are coming up dry
and we need a new angle,” Clay explained.

  

“I think I know someone who may be able to help us,
Mr. Webb.  He’s the leader of the Algafa tribe,
located just to the north of here.”

  

“Alright, Major.  We’ll start there and see where it
takes us,” Clay replied with a serious expression.  He
was very worried that they were running out of time on
this mission.  “Thank you for your help, Colonel,” he
added as he and Faulk turned to leave.

  

“My pleasure, Mr. Webb,” he responded, then turned to
Major Faulk.  “Find those weapons, Mr. Faulk,” he said
to the Delta officer.

  

“Yes, Sir.”

  

  

---Cut to Mac’s office at JAG Headquarters – 0854
Local---

  

  

“Hey, Mac,” Harm said carefully as he stood in her
doorway.  He could see that she was deep in thought
and it looked like something was really bothering the
lovely Marine.

  

“Hey,” she replied weakly, only looking up for a
second.  It was long enough for Harm to catch the
anguish in her eyes, and he entered the office without
waiting for permission and closed the hatch.

  

“Talk to me,” he said softly as he took a seat across
from her.  She didn’t respond for several seconds, but
Harm knew from previous experience that she would
eventually tell him what was wrong.

  

“Tim and I got a new case today,” she began, trying to
keep herself calm.  She had defended many a guilty
party in the past, but this was going to be
dramatically harder and she knew it.  “A master chief
is accused of manslaughter and we have to defend him,”
she finished, trying to make it sound as if it was
nothing.

  

“That sounds like par for the course, Marine.  So
what’s the problem?” he asked gently.  He had learned
over the years that it took coaxing to get his Marine
to talk about what was really bothering her.

  

“The victim is the Master Chief’s thirteen year old
son.  He claims that the boy slipped on a wet floor
and hit his head on the counter, but I’ve seen the
photos,” she said as her voice faded.  She handed the
file to Harm so that he could see for himself.  He saw
the bruises and he instantly knew how she was feeling.

  

“He was abused.” It wasn’t a question.  Mac simply
nodded her head.

  

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?”

  

“So, what are you going to do?” he asked, knowing full
well what her answer would be.

  

“We’re going to defend him.  What else can we do?”

  

“I know.  Just know that I am here for you if you want
to talk about anything,” he said sincerely, reaching
across the desk and taking her hand.

  

“Thank you, flyboy,” she replied with a slight smile. 
Then she stood abruptly.  “Tim and I are headed to
Norfolk to talk to the Master Chief,” she said when
she realized that they needed to get going.

  

“Why don’t you come over for dinner when you get
back?” he asked hopefully with a little half smile. 
“I could cheer you up.”

  

“Thanks,” she said seriously, pulling him into a hug. 
“I’d like that.”

  

“Me too, Ninja Girl.”

  

  

---Cut to commercials---

  

*    *    *    *    *

  

  

0945 Local Time

Friday 8/15

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

  

Harm was sitting at his desk, trying to finish up some
paperwork before taking the Admiral up on his offer of
having the rest of the day off.  He hadn’t been up in
his Stearman in months and today was turning out to be
a beautiful day.

  

“Knock, knock,” he heard a voice say from his open
doorway.  When he looked up he found his partner,
Captain Cindy Thomas, standing there with a bemused
expression.  “Does the Admiral have to order you to
take a day off, Sir?” she asked with a smile.

  

“Definitely not,” he replied, returning her smile.  “I
was just wrapping up some of the paperwork on the
McGee case before I head out.  What are you going to
do with your day off, Cindy?” he asked.

  

“I’m not sure, Sir.  I’ll probably just catch up on my
reading,” she replied when she realized that she
didn’t really have much to do.  Having only been in
D.C. for a few weeks didn’t exactly leave her with a
truckload of friends.

  

“On a day like today?” he asked incredulously, pulling
up the shade on his window and exposing the beautiful
blue sky, free of clouds.  Cindy didn’t know what to
say to that, so she just shrugged.

  

“Nonsense, Captain.  You are not going to waste this
beautiful day, which we have the good luck to have
off, on reading,” he said in a teasing tone.  “Get
your cover and briefcase and follow me, partner,” he
finished, walking past her and thru the door.  Cindy
rushed to her office and followed him, now totally
curious as to what was up her handsome partner’s
sleeve.  When they reached the parking lot, she
noticed that his SUV was nowhere in sight.

  

“Where’s your truck, Sir?” she asked, confused.

  

“At home, where it should be on a day like today,” he
replied as he jumped over the door and into the seat
of his red 68 Corvette.  “Come on,” he said with a
flyboy grin.  “Let’s go flying.”

  

  

---Cut to Government-issue car on route to Norfolk,
Virginia – same time---

  

  

“You’re awfully quiet over there, Ma’am,” Tim remarked
after driving for nearly an hour with no conversation
from his partner.  He had noticed Mac’s reaction to
the case right away, but at the time he really didn’t
think much of it.  After all, seeing pictures of
something so horrible would get a reaction out of
anyone.  Now, though, it was becoming obvious that
this case was hitting his partner close to home.

  

“I guess I’m just a little distracted today,” she
replied with a half-hearted smile before returning to
gazing out the window.

  

“I can’t blame you for that, Ma’am,” he replied,
cautiously trying to get at what was really bothering
his partner.  “I’m not much looking forward to this
case myself.”

  

“Am I that transparent?”

  

“Not really, Ma’am.  But, I did notice the way you
reacted to the case when the Admiral explained it, and
now you are as quiet as I’ve seen you since I’ve known
you.  Is there anything you want to talk about?”

  

When she heard the question, she realized that she
really did want to talk to someone, but it wasn’t Tim
that she wanted to talk to.  Just the same, she
realized that he should get some kind of a warning
before venturing into this case.

  

“I don’t really want to get into it, Tim, but you
should know that this one does hit a little too close
to home.  I may be a little hard to be around until
this is over, but I am really going to need your help
with this case,” she said sincerely.

  

“Understood, Ma’am,” he replied, and then focused back
on the road.  The young man now had some idea of what
was going on underneath the tough Marine shell of his
partner, and he knew that the best thing he could do
for her would be to focus on getting this case over
with.

  

  

---Cut to Algafa Militia headquarters just north of
Kabul, Afghanistan – same time---

  

  

Clayton Webb pulled the unmarked, white Toyota pickup
to a stop just short of a large fenced encampment near
the edge of a ravine.  Both he and Major Faulk were
out of the vehicle quickly and soon covered the
remaining quarter mile on foot.  When they made it to
the gate, they were greeted by a pair of guards armed
with Soviet made assault rifles.

  

“What do you want?” they yelled out in Farsi, a
language in which both Webb and Faulk were fluent.

  

“Tell Captain Atti that Major Faulk is here to see
him,” Faulk replied confidently.

  

“Who is he?” one of the guards asked, pointing his gun
at Webb.

  

“He’s the man that will put a bullet in your head if
you don’t put down the weapon and go get Captain
Atti,” the Major replied in a cool even tone matched
with a glare that would turn fire to ice.  The guard
quickly turned to find the Captain, leaving the other
guard to watch the two men.

  

Ten minutes later the two men were being escorted into
a small makeshift office in the larger of two
buildings in the camp.  The voice that greeted them
did so in prefect English with a hint of a British
accent.  The voice, however, did not belong to an
Englishmen, but to a short native Afghan man with
graying hair and a long gray beard.

  

“Ah, Major Faulk, and you’ve brought a friend.”

  

“Captain Atti, this is Mr. Webb,” Faulk replied.  Webb
extended a handshake that was quickly returned by the
militia Captain.

  

“No first name, no rank, Mr. Webb?  What brings you
here?” the Captain asked in Clay’s direction.

  

“I am a humanitarian observer,” Clay replied, using
his usual cover story.

  

“Ah yes, CIA then,” the Captain replied with a knowing
stare to which Clay just shrugged.  He had
underestimated the militia Captain and now he felt
just a little embarrassed by it.  “What can I do for
you gentlemen?”

  

“We’re looking for a group of Al Qaida that may be
organizing another attack against US interests,” Clay
began to explain.  “One of our helicopter’s destroyed
three trucks filled with Al Qaida soldiers in the
Ghandr region several weeks ago.  Two other trucks
escaped and our intelligence suggests that they were
filled with weapons to be used in an attack on our
consulate in Naples.”

  

“And you want to know if I know where these trucks
took the weapons?  Of course, I do not know,” Captain
Atti replied.

  

“Actually, we were hoping you might know who is behind
this plot.  If we had a suspect, we would have a much
better idea of where to look,” Major Faulk replied
this time.  Atti didn’t respond right away.  Instead,
he began to stroke his beard and paced back and forth
as if deep in thought.  Finally, after nearly five
minutes of this, he turned to Webb.

  

“There are several men that I think would be capable
of an attack on your consulate in Italy,” he began. 
“However, I know of only one man crazy enough to
regroup such an attack after loosing three truckloads
of men to a helicopter.”  When he finished, he paused
for a moment and looked at Clay with an unmistakable
expression.  Clay immediately reached into the pocket
of his field vest.

  

“How much, Captain?” he asked, tossing out a thick
stack of American bills.

  

“Two more just like that will do,” came the
matter-of-fact reply.  Webb didn’t even flinch.  He
just reached back into his vest and soon twenty
thousand joined the original ten thousand on the
table.

  

“You are very generous, Mr. Webb,” the Captain replied
with the first smile they’d seen from him.  “The man
you are looking for is Amer Halohm.  He leads a group
of radicals in the Ghandr region, not far from where
you destroyed the trucks.  The locals in that area
call him ‘the ghost.’”

  

“Thank you, Captain Atti,” Faulk said as the two men
turned to leave.  When they were gone, the Afghan
Captain walked slowly over to the table and began to
count his score.

  

  

---Cut to Norfolk brig – same time---

  

  

“Lt. Colonel Mackenzie and Lieutenant Alton to see
Master Chief Patterson,” Mac informed the guard when
they arrived at the brig.

  

“Right this way, Ma’am, Sir,” the young Marine
replied.  He lead the two JAG officers down a long
hall lined with small steel barred cells.  At the end
of the hall they reached the interrogation room that
they would use to interview their client.  “I’ll go
get the Master Chief, Ma’am,” the guard said once they
were inside.  He then turned quickly, leaving just Mac
and Tim in the room.

  

“You think he did it, don’t you, Ma’am?” Tim asked
cautiously when they were alone.  Mac thought for a
moment before answering him.

  

“I’m not sure what I think yet, Lieutenant.  But, I’ll
tell you this much: If he didn’t do it, we are going
to have one heck of a time convincing the members of
that,” she replied with a worried expression.  Tim
didn’t have a chance to reply when the door opened and
in walked Master Chief Patterson, closely guarded by
the Marine from the front desk.

  

“I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything,
Ma’am, Sir,” the Marine said, acknowledging both
officers before returning to stand watch outside the
door.

  

“My name is Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie and this is
Lieutenant Timothy Alton, we’ve been appointed to
represent you at your court martial,” Mac said,
introducing them to their client.

  

“Master Chief Daniel Patterson, Ma’am,” he replied
sullenly.  He was not at all what either of the two
officers had expected to find when they first read the
file.  In truth, they had halfway expected to find
some kind of a monster.  Instead they found a weary
looking man in his early fifties with gray in his hair
and a tired expression.  His voice gave away an inner
pain that surprised both officers very much.  They had
expected some cold calculated child abuser that they
could despise.  Instead, they saw a man that was
obviously very much affected by his son’s death.

  

“Master Chief, why don’t you start by telling us what
happened on the night of August 8th?” Mac began, not
really wanting to hear what he would have to say, but
knowing that she had to suck it up and do her job.

  

“Yes, Ma’am,” the Master Chief replied.  “I went out
about nineteen hundred that night with some of the
guys from the ship.  We’d just got in from deployment
a few hours before and we were going to celebrate.  We
drank for a few hours before we decided to call it a
night.”

  

“What time was that, Chief?” Tim asked, looking up
from where he was scribbling notes on a legal pad.

  

“I’m not sure, Sir.  It must have been just before
midnight.”

  

“What happened next, Chief?” Mac asked.

  

“I went straight home from the bar.  When I walked
into the house, my son Doug was in the kitchen pouring
himself some juice.  When he saw me he…”  The Chief
began to break down and couldn’t finish his sentence.

  

“Take your time, Chief,” Mac said.  She wasn’t sure if
she believed him or not, but she was professional
enough to keep her feelings in check.

  

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he replied, now a little more in
control.  “When Doug saw me, he dropped the glass of
juice on the counter and started to run towards me,
but the juice spilled on the floor and he slipped. 
When I got to him, he was bleeding from the head and I
couldn’t get a pulse.  That’s when I called the
ambulance,” he finished, visibly trembling.  The Chief
then looked down at the floor and began to cry softly.
 Mac and Tim shared a quick look, each wondering what
the other one thought of his story.  They both found
nothing but uncertainty.

  

  

---Cut to commercials---

  

*    *    *    *    *

  

  

1245 Local Time

Friday 8/15

Somewhere over North Carolina

  

“Well, what do you think?” Harm asked over the
intercom to his partner in the front seat.

  

“This is great, Sir,” Cindy hollered back in reply. 
At first she thought she was going to be sick, but
after a few minutes her nerves had settled and she
began to really enjoy her flight in Harm’s classic
biplane.  Harm smiled when he heard her reply and
chose that moment to execute another loop.

  

“Yahoooo!” Cindy screamed as the plane roared back to
level.  Harm just laughed in the back seat.

  

“You getting hungry up there, Marine?” he hollered as
the plane passed over a small town with an airstrip.

  

“Starving,” came the reply.

  

“What is it with Marines and their stomachs?” Harm
muttered as he brought the plane around to land at the
little airstrip they’d seen.

  

  

---Cut to Sturgis’s office at JAG – Same time---

  

  

“Ok, we have the photos and the testimony from the
medical examiner that both back up the
abuse-gone-too-far theory,” Sturgis said, trying to
get an overview of their case against the master
chief.

  

“It’s not going to be enough, Sir,” Bud replied with a
haunted look in his eyes.  “We need a witness to the
abuse if we are going to get this guy.  We’ll never
beat Colonel Mackenzie with photos and medical
opinions.”

  

“I agree.  Did you see anything in the file about a
wife or a girlfriend, Lieutenant?” Sturgis replied
thoughtfully.

  

“I think I did, actually,” Bud replied, flipping thru
the file.  “Here it is, Sir,” he said handing a sheet
of paper across the desk to Sturgis.

  

“Rachel Patterson, age 34, ex-wife of Master Chief
Daniel Patterson,” Sturgis said, reading from the
sheet that Bud had just handed him.  “She’s not the
mother, though,” he concluded.

  

“No she isn’t.  The boy’s mother was Nancy Patterson. 
She died giving birth to Doug,” Bud replied,
referencing another sheet in the file.

  

“She may not be the boy’s mother, but she may have
been witness to the abuse.  She may have even been
abused herself,” Sturgis said, more thinking out loud
than anything else.

  

“She lives just on the other side of D.C., in
Maryland,” Bud answered before Sturgis could even ask
the question.

  

“No time like the present,” Sturgis replied as the two
men strode purposefully towards the exit.

  

  

---Cut to Interrogation room at Norfolk brig – same
time---

  

  

“I want to you to take a look at some photos, Master
Chief.  I know it will be hard, but if we are going to
help you, we need to do this,” Mac said cautiously. 
She knew that a dozen reactions were possible, but she
also knew that they needed to know how to combat this
key piece of prosecution evidence.

  

“Ok, Ma’am,” he replied.  When he did, she slid a
manila folder over to him containing the photos of his
son, Doug.  He gasped audibly when he saw the pictures
of his son’s body from the morgue.  The two attorneys
gave him a few moments to recover before they began to
question him.

  

“Master Chief, the court martial members are going to
need to hear an explanation for those bruises,” Tim
said softly but in a stern tone.

  

“I don’t know, Sir,” the master chief replied.  “I’ve
never seen them before.”

  

“Come on, Master Chief.  You are going to have to
level with us if we are going to help you.  There are
bruises, new and old, all over his body.  Don’t tell
me you don’t know how they got there,” Tim insisted
from his position to their client’s right.

  

“He was pretty accident prone,” the chief replied
coldly.  “I’d just got into port that evening, so I
don’t know what happened with the new bruises, but the
old ones were probably just from falling off of his
bike.” The response was delivered as if rehearsed and
didn’t even begin to convince either of his attorneys.

  

“So you would have us believe, despite these photos,
that you’ve never physically abused your son?” Tim
asked in a disbelieving tone.

  

“Yes, Sir.”

  

“Well, we don’t believe you, Master Chief,” Mac said
emphatically, standing and leaning over towards their
client as she joined the conversation for the first
time since handing him the photos.  “I don’t believe
you for one second,” she said grabbing the photo of
Doug’s shoulders from the file.  “I think these are
your handprints here, you sick…” she nearly shouted
with rage in her eyes.  She wasn’t able to finish her
sentence as the Master Chief jumped from his chair and
grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her,
much the way he’d done with his son on the fateful
night.

  

“You know nothing about me, Colonel Mackenzie!” he
shouted as he shook her.  He only did so for a few
seconds, but in that time Mac caught sight of eyes
that she’d thought were dead.  Eyes that she thought
she would never see again outside of her dreams.  She
was seeing her father’s eyes all over again, and it
scared her to death.  Then suddenly she caught sight
of a wicked karate chop flying in from her left.  It
connected squarely with the master chief’s neck with a
sickening pop.  Before she knew it, her assailant was
on the ground, his arms being jerked back behind him
as far as they could go without breaking and a white
navy-issue dress shoe pressing his face into the floor
harder than he’d imagined was possible.

  

“Master Chief Patterson,” Tim bellowed in his best
SEAL commander voice.  “You are the dictionary
definition of scum-bag.  Not only do I believe that
you abused your son, I think you killed him.  However,
the Colonel and I have been assigned to defend your
sorry six.  And, because we are both good officers, we
are going to do just that.  But, know this: If you
ever try anything like you did just now, I will
personally guarantee that the Leavenworth cook staff
prepares your meals in blender.  Are we clear, Master
Chief Patterson?”

  

“Yes, Sir,” the master chief mumbled his reply into
the linoleum floor.

  

“Are we clear?” Tim shouted in his ear as he jerked
harder on his arms and pressed his face further into
the ground.

  

“Crystal, Sir!” the master chief shouted back.

  

“Very well,” he replied coolly, as he lifted the man
back to his feet and pressed him against the wall. 
“Sergeant Tibbs!” he bellowed for the guard.

  

“Yes, Sir,” the guard responded when he entered the
room.

  

“Get the master chief out of here.  Take him back to
his cell.”

  

“Aye, Sir,” he replied, taking custody of the
prisoner.  Meanwhile, Tim made his way over to the
still shaking Colonel.

  

“You ok, Ma’am?” he asked softly, putting his hand on
her shoulder.

  

“No, but I will be.  Let’s get out of here,
Lieutenant.”

  

“Yes, Ma’am.”

  

  

---Cut to small pizza parlor in North Carolina – same
time---

  

  

“This is delicious, Sir!” Cindy exclaimed after taking
a bite of the piping hot pizza in front of her.  “How
did you find this place?”

  

“By accident,” he replied.  “Mac and I stopped here
the last time I took her up.  She loved the pizza here
too, though, I have to say I approve of your choice of
toppings more than I did hers,” he said, motioning to
the all veggie lovers pizza.

  

“Let me guess: meat lovers?”

  

“That’s Mac.  I get a curious look every time I order
a half veggie lovers-half meat lovers pizza.”

  

“And that happens fairly often?” she asked with a
mischievous smile.  Harm didn’t answer the question;
he just raised an eyebrow and took another bite.  “Can
I ask you a personal question, Sir?”

  

“I think you mean: can I ask you a personal question,
Harm?  And, the answer is: yes you may,” he said with
a charming grin causing Cindy to blush.  She wasn’t
really interested in Harm, but his flyboy grin worked
just the same.

  

“You really like Colonel Mackenzie?”

  

“Of course, we were partners for years and she’s my
best friend in the world,” Harm replied, not really
understanding the question for what it was.

  

“What is it that makes her your best friend?”  This
question caused Harm to pause for a moment and really
think.  He looked down at the table as he spoke.

  

“Well, she’s always been there for me no matter what
the cost.  I’ve always been able to trust her and
depend on her even when I couldn’t trust anyone else. 
She understands my obsessions, and believe me I have a
few.  She doesn’t judge me for them and she always
stands behind me when I follow them.  Most of all, I
know that there isn’t a thing in this world that I
would not give up for her if she asked.  She’s more
important to me than even flying, and that’s saying
something,” he replied sincerely.  When he looked up
he saw his partner’s face lit up in a radiant smile. 
‘Boy, if Alton were here to see that…’ he thought,
knowing what Tim’s reaction would be.

  

“You’re in love with her!”  It wasn’t a question, but
a declaration that was made a little louder than Cindy
intended.  Now everyone in the little pizza place was
staring at them and Harm was blushing bright red. 
“Sorry, Sir,” she said, as she was now blushing
herself.

  

“That’s alright, Cindy.  And, you’re right about my
being in love with Mac.  I’ve never admitted that to
anyone before, least of all myself.  But, you are
right,” he said as he tried to wipe the goofy grin off
of his face to no avail.

  

“Harm, you have to tell her!” Cindy said sincerely.

  

“It’s a little more complicated than that, Cindy. 
There’s a lot of history there, not to mention the
effect it would have on our careers,” Harm said,
trying to cop out in his usual manner.  Cindy’s
expression instantly turned from a smile to a scowl.

  

“Harm, you just told me that you would give up
anything for her!  If that’s true than there is
nothing too complicated to overcome.  So, you may have
to make a career change.  So, what!  I have been
waiting my whole life to hear a man talk about me and
feel for me the way you do for Colonel Mackenzie.  You
can’t deny her that!” she blurted out all at once. 
Harm just sat in his seat in total shock.  He had not
expected that at all from his partner, but as he came
back to reality, he realized just how right she was.

  

“I’m so sorry, Sir,” Cindy started when she saw the
look on her partner’s face.  “That was way out of
line.”  Then she noticed the expression on Harm’s face
go from shock to obvious happiness in no time flat.

  

“Not at all, Cindy, not at all.  You’ve just made me
realize what I need to do.  Come on, let’s go!”

  

  

---Cut to home of Rachel Patterson in southern
Maryland – same time---

  

  

When Sturgis and Bud found the address of Rachel
Patterson, they found themselves in one of the poorer
neighborhoods in town.  The pale pink house that
matched the address was in poor repair and the yard
was in need of care.  The two JAG attorneys shared a
look before they exited the car and walked for the
door.  When they got there, Bud knocked softly. 
Several moments passed before the door opened,
revealing a very tired looking Rachel Patterson in a
waitress’s outfit.

  

“Pardon me, Ma’am.  My name is Commander Sturgis
Turner and this is Lieutenant Bud Roberts from the JAG
Corp.  Are you Rachel Patterson?” Sturgis asked
politely with a reassuring smile.  The potential
witness looked both officers over suspiciously before
she replied.

  

“Is this about Daniel?” she asked, the pain in her
voice coming thru loud and clear.  Both officers
noticed that the woman looked a lot older than her
thirty-four years and it was obvious that she had had
a hard life.

  

“Yes, Ma’am.  It’s about Daniel and his son Doug,” Bud
replied.

  

“Oh no, not Doug!” she exclaimed in a panic all of a
sudden.  “Is he alright?” she asked with concern that
was obviously genuine.  It broke his heart to do it,
but Sturgis lifted his eyes to give her the bad news.

  

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.  Doug died last Saturday night. 
That’s why we’re here,” he replied as softly as he
could.  The poor woman dissolved into sobs at the news
and Sturgis pulled her in and let her drown her tears
on his shoulder.  “I’m so sorry,” he said over and
over.  “It’s alright.”

  

“No, it’s not alright,” she replied, suddenly looking
up at him.  She stepped back and pulled at the collar
of her shirt, revealing old marks that were faded with
time but still looked just like the ones that had been
found on Doug Patterson.  “He killed him didn’t he,
Commander?” she asked accusingly.

  

“We’re not sure, Ma’am,” he replied, choosing his
words carefully.  “But, there is some evidence that
suggests that he did.  Lieutenant Roberts and I are in
charge of prosecuting the Master Chief at a court
martial next week.  We thought you might be able to
help us.”

  

“I should have reported him years ago.  Now poor
little Doug paid the price for my fears,” she replied,
sinking down to sit on the front porch step.  “Yes,
I’ll help you.  It’s the least I can do,” she finished
as the tears took over again.

  

  

---Cut to JAG Headquarters – Later that afternoon---

  

  

It had been a silent ride all the way back from
Norfolk, and despite being tired from the drive down
and the physical and mental stress of subduing their
client, Tim had insisted on driving back.  He knew
that his partner was more shaken by her encounter with
Master Chief Patterson than she would ever willingly
let on.  So, he left her to her thoughts with an ear
ready if she needed it.  He suspected, however, that
she would wait to lean on another Navy officer back in
Virginia.

  

“Here we are, Ma’am,” he said softly as they pulled
into the parking lot.  “I can get to work on the
crosses for the obvious prosecution witnesses myself,
if you’d like to take the rest of the day,” he said
thoughtfully.  Mac thought about it for a moment.  It
wasn’t something that she would normally do.  She was
a Marine, and a tough one she told herself.  But, this
was different and she knew it.

  

“Thanks, Tim,” she said with a forced smile.  “Believe
it or not, I am going to take you up on that.  Why
don’t you meet me at my place after lunch tomorrow and
we can work on it some more?”

  

“Will do, Ma’am,” he said with a reassuring smile. 
“See you tomorrow.”  With that she was out of the car
and on her way to her corvette.

  

  

---Cut to Commercials---

  

*    *    *    *    *

  

  

2251 Local Time

Friday 8/15

Secret camp

Ghandr region of Afghanistan

  

Under the cover of darkness, two figures dressed
entirely in black crept thru the sand of the Afghan
desert towards a secret encampment at the base of a
mountain.  450 yards from the west side of the camp,
the two spies took cover at the top of a small ridge. 
Soon both men trained silenced sniper rifles at the
camp’s main building.

  

“Looks like their having a little pow-wow, Mr. Faulk,”
Webb whispered as he looked thru the powerful scope
and thru the window of the main building.  Inside,
four men in desert fatigues were having a very
animated conversation.

  

“Let’s have a listen then, Mr. Webb,” Faulk replied,
pulling a small, unmarked case from his pack.  Inside
he removed a smaller case, which held a single bullet.
 He removed the bullet and placed it directly into the
chamber of his weapon.  He took several seconds to
take his aim and then, with a muffled thunk, he fired
the bullet at the building.  The bullet hit the
concrete building right next to the window and
dissolved leaving a small listening device stuck to
the wall.

  

“I love playing with CIA toys, Mr. Webb,” the Delta
Force officer said with a mischievous grin.

  

“Great, isn’t it?” Webb replied, grabbing the
earphones from the still open case.  He listened for
several minutes while Faulk watched thru his rifle’s
scope.  When the meeting broke, the two spies turned
to each other.

  

“What did they say?” Faulk asked earnestly.

  

“It goes down next Sunday night,” Webb replied while
his mind raced frantically for a plan.

  

  

---Cut to Harm’s Apartment – early evening in
Virginia---

  

  

When Harm pulled his red corvette into the parking lot
of his building, he found another red corvette of a
slightly newer vintage sitting in the spot next to
his.

  

‘She’s awfully early,’ he thought to himself as a
bright smile made it’s way across his face.  Then he
remembered what he had promised himself that he would
do tonight and his stomach began to tie itself into
knots.  He jumped out of the car, grabbed the
groceries that he had purchased on the way home, and
hurried up the stairs.  Butterflies or no, he was
still anxious to see her.  When he turned the key and
walked thru the door, he didn’t see her in the main
area of the apartment.

  

“Mac, I’m home,” he called out towards the bedroom,
thinking that maybe she had decided to lie down.  He
then set down the groceries on the counter and started
to unload them from the bags.  But, when several
moments went by with no answer to his call, he decided
to go and check for her.  When he entered the bedroom,
he found her curled up in a ball on the bed in his old
Naval Academy sweats.

  

“There you are.  Didn’t you hear me come in?” he asked
lightly.  Then she turned to look at him and his
expression went from a smile to dread in a heartbeat. 
She was crying, and not just a little bit.  The front
side of the sweatshirt was half soaked and there were
wet streams coming down both of her cheeks.

  

“Oh Sarah,” was all he could say before she launched
herself up into his arms.  He knew instantly that his
plans for tonight would have to wait.  She needed him
right now and he wanted nothing more than to be there
for her.  He knew that something awful must have
happened for her to break down like this and he knew
that the only thing he could do was try to comfort
her.  “I’m here, Sarah,” he said softly as he wrapped
his strong arms around her, trying the best way that
he knew how to make her feel safe.  And that’s exactly
what he did.  She knew that his arms were the only
place she could feel this safe, so she lost herself in
them.

  

“Hold me, Harm.  Just hold me,” she said, as her tears
continued to fall.

  

“Anything you say, Ninja Girl.”

  

  

---Cut to JAG courtroom – five days later – Wed. 8/20
- 1023 Local time---

  

  

Harm walked into the JAG courtroom and took his seat
in the audience just behind the defense table where
Mac and Tim were already seated with their client. 
Over the past five days he had been Mac’s refuge. 
This had truly been one of the toughest cases of her
career and she was glad that she had Harm to count on.
 He had even cleared it with the Admiral so that he
could be in court during the entire trial.

  

Today the prosecution was expected to wrap up its case
with testimony from the medical examiner and the
chief’s ex-wife.  Mac knew that this would be one of
the harder days.  Especially when she had to
cross-examine the chief’s ex-wife.  ‘How can I get up
there and tear apart a woman that has gone thru some
of the same things that I have?  How can I make her
life harder, when I struggle every day trying to make
mine better?’ she had asked Harm the night before.  ‘I
don’t know, Mac,’ had been his reply.  Really there
was no good answer to those questions.  In the end he
had told her that he had faith in her and that she
should do whatever her heart told her and then he had
wrapped her up in his arms again.

  

“All rise!” came the cry from the sergeant at arms,
breaking into her thoughts.  Colonel Mike Reardon
walked calmly to the bench and began the proceedings
for the day.  Reardon, a tall, blonde-haired,
blue-eyed Marine had just transferred in from San
Diego, and he was already living up to his reputation
as one of the toughest judges in the service.

  

“Commander Turner, call your next witness,” he said
gruffly as he took his seat.

  

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Sturgis replied courteously. 
“The government calls Captain Wilfred Albanks, Your
Honor.”  When he said this, a short, round, man in his
middle forties entered the room in Navy whites.  Once
he was seated, Sturgis rose to begin his questions.

  

“Sir, will you please state your name and current
billet for the record?”

  

“Captain Wilfred Albanks.  I am the chief medical
examiner at the Norfolk Navy Yards in Norfolk,
Virginia.”

  

“Captain, did you have the opportunity to examine the
body of Douglas Patterson?”

  

“Yes, I did.”

  

“What did you find, Sir?”

  

“The boy suffered a massive head trauma caused by
hitting his head against a kitchen counter.”

  

“Did he suffer any other injuries, Captain?”

  

“Yes he did.  We found two large bruises on his
shoulders along with scars from multiple deep bone
bruises suffered in the past.”

  

“Your Honor, the government would like to enter these
photos, taken by the medical examiner’s staff, as
government exhibits Alfa, Bravo, and Charlie,” Sturgis
said, handing the judge the photos.

  

“So noted,” the judge replied, handing the photos back
to Sturgis, who in turn walked over and showed them to
the court members one by one.

  

“Do you have an opinion as to how these bruises were
made, Captain?” he continued, when he was done showing
the photos.

  

“Yes.  I believe the bruises on his shoulders were
made by a man’s hands,” the doctor replied.  Sturgis
allowed this fact to sink in with the members before
he continued.  Without even noticing, Mac touched her
shoulder slightly where she still felt the bruises the
master chief had left there.  At that moment she
realized that she had never felt as awful about doing
her job as she did right now.

  

“Captain, could these bruises have been made in the
process of the victim being thrown across the room?”
Sturgis continued.

  

“That is possible, yes,” the Captain responded with a
scowl in the direction of the defendant, a look that
did not go unnoticed by the jury.  The medical
examiner had three children of his own at home, and he
truly hoped that the defendant would pay for his
crimes.

  

“Thank you, Captain.  I have no further questions.”

  

“Colonel Mackenzie?” Colonel Reardon said, signaling
Mac that she could begin her cross.

  

“Thank you, Your Honor.  Good morning, Captain,” she
said with a fake smile.

  

“Good morning, Colonel.”

  

“Captain, do you know for certain how Doug Patterson
got the bruises in these photos?”

  

“No, Colonel, I do not know for certain.”

  

“Could he have gotten these bruises by falling from a
bicycle or out of a tree?”

  

“Possibly, but not likely.”

  

“So it is possible that the defendant had nothing to
do with these bruises, isn’t that true, Captain?”

  

“Yes, it is possible.”

  

“Is it also possible that the victim slipped on a wet
floor and hit his head on the kitchen counter?”

  

“Again, possible but not likely,” the medical examiner
responded with contempt in his voice.  Mac hated doing
this, and it was obvious that the witness hated her
for it too.

  

“So it is possible that the defendant had nothing to
do with the victim hitting his head on the kitchen
counter, isn’t that also true, Captain.”

  

“Yes, it is possible.”

  

“Thank you, I have no further questions.”

  

“Captain, you may step down,” Colonel Reardon said. 
“The government may call its next witness.”

  

“Government calls Rachel Patterson to the stand,”
Sturgis replied, then he returned to his seat and Bud
stood for direct.

  

“Ma’am, will you please state your name for the
record?”

  

“Rachel Patterson.”

  

“Mrs. Patterson, what is your relationship to the
defendant?”

  

“He is my ex-husband,” she replied, the contempt
coming thru clearly in her tone.

  

“How long have you been divorced?”

  

“Just over two years now.”

  

“You filed for the divorce, is that correct, Ma’am?”

  

“Yes it is,” she replied.

  

“Why?”

  

“Because, Daniel abused me,” she said, as tears began
to well up at the memory.

  

“How so, Mrs. Patterson?” Bud continued, trying to
keep his own emotions in check.

  

“Daniel has a horrible temper, Lieutenant.  Sometimes
he would hit me or push me up against the wall.  Most
of the time, though, he would grab me by the shoulders
and shake me.”  At this response, Bud turned and
retrieved the photo of the victim’s shoulders and
brought it back to the witness.

  

“Mrs. Patterson, do you recognize the marks on the
victim’s shoulders?”

  

“Yes I do,” she replied as she tugged at the collar of
her blouse revealing the scars on her shoulders to the
court members.

  

“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson.  I have no further
questions, Your Honor,” Bud said before returning to
his seat.  Mac was up from her seat right away to
begin her cross.

  

“Mrs. Patterson, did you ever see the defendant abuse
his son, Doug?” she asked thoughtfully.

  

“No, Ma’am.”

  

“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson,” she said, returning to
her seat.

  

“Redirect, Your Honor,” Bud requested.

  

“Go ahead, Lieutenant,” Reardon replied.

  

“Mrs. Patterson, did the Master Chief ever explain why
he hit you?”

  

“Yes, he would always apologize for his behavior right
away.  He said that he had a very stressful job and
that sometimes he just needed an outlet for his
stress.”

  

“After you left, the Master Chief still had a
stressful job,” Bud said as he walked over to face the
court members.  “Is it possible that the defendant
simply began taking out his anger on his son after you
were no longer available?” he asked, knowing what the
result would be.  He didn’t want an answer from the
witness; he wanted to make his point with the members.

  

“Objection, Your Honor,” Mac said, rising from her
seat.

  

“Withdrawn.  I have no further questions.”

  

  

---Cut to Robert’s Residence – Rosslyn Virginia –
later that evening---

  

  

“Hey, Honey,” Bud said with a smile as he walked in
the door.  He and Sturgis had stayed at the office
late preparing for the defense’s case, which was
scheduled to begin the following day.

  

“Hey, yourself,” Harriet replied, kissing him on the
cheek when he walked into the kitchen.  “I just put
A.J. down if you want to go tuck him in.”  Bud merely
smiled in response and headed for his son’s room. 
After a day spent on this case, he could think of
nothing better than spending time with his little
family.  When he got to A.J.’s room, he found the
little boy already fast asleep.  He just stood at the
doorway and watched him for a moment as he realized
just how content he was in his life.  After all, he
had a beautiful wife that loved him with all her
heart, a wonderful young son to teach and share his
dreams with, and a great career that was truly
rewarding.  As his thoughts continued to wander, he
couldn’t help but think about Master Chief Patterson
again.  The man may not have had all of the things
that he did, but he had a good life.  Even after
surviving the experience of having an abusive father
and now as a father himself, Bud still could not
understand how someone could abuse something so
precious.

  

“Whatcha thinking about, husband of mine?” Harriet
said sweetly, wrapping her arms around his neck and
kissing his cheek.

  

“Just thinking how lucky I am,” he replied, turning to
kiss her on the lips.  It was a kiss filled with a
special emotion that they both held for one another,
but that they didn’t communicate all the time.

  

“I love you very much, Honey,” Bud said when they
broke apart.

  

“I love you too.”

  

  

---Cut to Commercials---

  

*    *    *    *    *

  

1125 Local Time

Thursday 8/22

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

  

“The defense calls Master Chief Daniel Patterson to
the stand,” Mac said, causing Sturgis and Bud to share
a surprised look.  Their case was circumstantial at
best and they hadn’t expected Mac to risk putting her
client on the stand.  They had no way of knowing that
the defendant had insisted upon it.

  

“Master Chief, tell us what happened on the night of
August 8th,” Mac began tightly.  She had been very
much against this from the start and she didn’t intend
to ask too many questions.

  

“I arrived in port at around 1920, Ma’am.  Me and a
few of the boys decided to go out and celebrate before
calling it a night.  Doug wasn’t supposed to be home
that night.  He usually stays with my parents while
I’m at sea and I wasn’t supposed to pick him up until
the next day.  But when I got home, he was there.  He
was in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of juice
when I walked in.  He got excited and started to run
towards me, but he dropped his juice.  Then he went
down all of a sudden and I heard a loud crack.  When I
made it around to the kitchen, he was already gone,”
he finished as a few stray tears wandered down his
cheeks.

  

“Did you ever hit your son, Master Chief?”

  

“No Ma’am.”

  

“Master Chief Patterson, did you kill your son?”

  

“No Ma’am.”

  

“Thank you, Your Honor.  I have no further questions,”
she said as she made her way back to the defense
table.  Sturgis began to rise to cross-examine the
defendant when he felt a hand on his arm.  He turned
and looked at Bud and when he saw the look in his
partner’s eyes, he knew that this was something that
the young Lieutenant had to do.  He simply nodded and
sank back down in his seat.

  

“Master Chief Patterson, how do explain the bruises on
your son’s shoulders?” Bud asked directly as he
started the cross.

  

“I can’t explain them, Lieutenant.  I had been at sea
for three months.”

  

“Master Chief, you expect us to believe that fresh
bruises, similar in pattern to the scars found on your
ex-wife who divorced you because of your abuse, are a
coincidence and that you had nothing to do with
putting them there?” Bud asked, sending a disbelieving
look in the direction of the members.

  

“I don’t care what you believe, Lieutenant,” the
Master Chief spat back, now starting to get agitated. 
“It’s the truth!”  This was just the opening that Bud
was looking for and he took it with a vengeance.

  

“I think you caused those bruises, Master Chief.  I
think you shook your son just like you shook your
ex-wife!” Bud said harshly, coming to stand just in
front of the defendant.

  

“No!” the defendant nearly shouted back.

  

“You shook him and then you threw him against that
counter, didn’t you, Master Chief Patterson?” Bud
yelled back.

  

“Objection,” Mac yelled coming out of her seat.

  

“You killed him, you sorry coward!  And, I want to
know why!” Bud screamed, now only inches from his
face.

  

“Lieutenant, stand down,” Colonel Reardon commanded
from the bench, but Bud didn’t hear him.  He was
running on pure emotion now.  The defendant was now
standing and the two men were eye to eye.

  

“Tell me why!” he screamed again.  He saw the rage
boil over in the defendant’s eyes and he knew in that
instant that he had won.

  

“Because he was lazy!” Patterson screamed as the rage
overtook him and he reached for Bud.  The Sergeant at
arms was too quick, though, and the defendant was
restrained.  Then Bud walked over to him and looked
him right in the eye with a look of disbelief.

  

“You killed your son because he was lazy?”  The
defendant didn’t answer, he only huffed and puffed and
strained against the Marine that held him.

  

“Thank you, Your Honor.  I have no further questions.”

  

  

---Cut to JAG Courtroom – next day---

  

  

“Have the members reached a verdict?” Colonel Reardon
asked of the foreman.

  

“We have, Your Honor.”

  

“Please read it for the court.”

  

“We, the members, find the defendant, Master Chief
Daniel Patterson, guilty as charged.”

  

“Sentencing will begin tomorrow at 1000.  This court
is adjourned,” the judge announced with a bang from
his gavel.  The defendant was soon led away and the
courtroom quickly emptied with the exception of one
tall Navy Commander and a beautiful Marine Lt.
Colonel.

  

“I am so glad that’s over,” Mac said softly as she
sank into his waiting arms.  He just held her for a
moment.  Then they heard the doors to the courtroom
opening and they separated quickly.  When the doors
opened, Admiral Chegwidden entered the courtroom,
followed by Clayton Webb and a tall stranger dressed
in a class A Army uniform with Delta insignias.  Harm
and Mac just looked at each other for a moment,
wondering what could possibly be going on.

  

“Commander, Colonel, in my office.”

  

TO BE CONTINUED…

  

  

---Cut to Executive Producer’s credit---

 

*    *    *    *    * 

  

End of Episode 4

 

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