The Space Between
Chapter 1: The Tears We Cry

By Jared Chapman

Disclaimer:  I do not own JAG or any of the characters 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 show 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 (some violence)

Category:  Harm/Mac Angst and Romance

Spoilers:  A little bit of everything to date.

Summary:  A look at the events surrounding and following “The Mission” 
in an 
alternate reality.  What would have happened if Harm hadn’t made it 
back to 
the Seahawk?  Will history repeat itself?  Will the enemy claim another 
Rabb 
aviator?  Or, will her love be enough to bring him back?

Feedback:  jared2142@hotmail.com

Archive: BTL


1545 Local Time
2/26/02
USS Seahawk
Persian Gulf

Mac stood solemnly at the front of the bridge.  She watched nervously 
as 
Harm’s Tomcat was wheeled into position to be launched.  She knew she 
couldn’t be mad at him.  After all, he hadn’t asked for this mission.  
He 
had been given orders.  And even if he had asked to be sent up, she 
couldn’t 
blame him. She had long since realized that flying was in his blood, 
and he 
wouldn’t be the same person without it.  Even if she had the power to 
keep 
him from it, she knew she could never do that to him.  Even knowing 
these 
things didn’t keep her from wishing that he wasn’t going on this 
mission.  
In all of the times she had worried about him flying, she had never 
felt 
quite like this.

Before she knew it, the sound of the catapult brought her back, from 
her 
thoughts, to reality.  In another few seconds, his plane disappeared 
into 
the twilight and she was left to wait and pray for his safe return.

*    *    *    *    *

1936 Local Time
2/26/02
Over Northern Afghanistan

“I have the target in sight.  Confirm, large building at the edge of 
the 
village.”

“Roger Hawker leader.”  The SEAL commander on the ground confirmed 
Harm’s 
identification of the target and motioned to his men to fall back.  A 
moment 
later, Harm’s Tomcat shot over their heads and they watched him make a 
perfect drop.  The entire building disappeared in a matter of seconds, 
as 
the two Tomcats climbed back toward the heavens.  Just as the jets were 
about to duck out of sight, they noticed a small flash and then a 
stream of 
light coming from one of the cliffs.  The SEALS knew instantly that 
there 
was a stinger missile on it’s way toward the Tomcats, but by the time 
they 
keyed up the radio again, they heard a sickening explosion.

“Lieutenant Jackson…” one of the junior SEALS motioned to his 
commanding 
officer.  “…I see a chute.”  The Lieutenant followed his motion and 
locked 
in on the position of a lone parachute.

“I only see one,” he said as he realized that one his comrades was 
probably 
dead.  “Let’s move out,” he ordered as each one of his men moved 
carefully 
from their hiding spot.  The SEALS were determined to find that pilot 
before 
the enemy did.

*    *    *    *    *

1942 Local Time
2/26/02
USS Seahawk
Persian Gulf

Mac stood in a corner of the control room while a constant buzz went on 
all 
around her.  She was in an utter state of shock.  No woman should ever 
have 
to hear the man she loves being shot out of the sky.  Tough Marine, or 
not, 
this was way too much for her to handle.  Before she knew it, she had 
slid 
to the floor with her back against the wall as silent tears flowed down 
her 
cheeks.

Just a few hours ago they had shared a wonderful moment on the 
observation 
deck.  He had told her just how glad he was that she had come with him 
to 
the Seahawk.  It wasn’t the best thing she could have heard from his 
lips, 
but she would take it without hesitation.  Having him say that he was 
glad 
to have her along, in his favorite place in the world, meant so much to 
her. 
  Now, just a short time latter, she was faced with the possibility 
that she 
would never see him again.  She was faced with the possibility that he 
was 
dead.  It was more than she could bear.

When this thought crossed her mind again, she found her tears going 
from 
silent streams to loud sobs very suddenly.  The Captain, who had been 
busy 
monitoring the radio and hoping for signs of survivors, turned to find 
the 
tough Marine Colonel falling apart at the seams.  He had suspected, 
from his 
limited exposure to the two partners, that they were good friends.  
But, the 
look he now saw in her eyes was just like the one he had seen in the 
eyes of 
so many Navy widows.  For a moment, he set aside what he was doing and 
scooped her up by the shoulders.

“Come with me Colonel Mackenzie.  Let’s find you someplace private.”  
She 
simply nodded with a small smile that she didn’t really mean.  It 
didn’t 
cross her mind that the Captain was being unusually understanding.  It 
didn’t cross her mind that the entire bridge had probably been staring 
at 
her.  She was numb at this point.  She didn’t even notice where he was 
taking her until they were already there.

“Ok, Colonel.  I understand that you are upset,” the Captain began 
softly as 
he lead her into his stateroom and motioned for her to sit.  “I have to 
get 
back to the bridge, but I will come back and give an update as soon as 
we 
know about the Commander.  Ok?”

“Thank you, Captain,” she said weakly.  “I’m sorry…”  He didn’t let her 
finish the apology.

“No reason to apologize, Colonel.  Just try to relax.  I will let you 
know 
as soon as we hear something.”  With that, he turned and left her for 
the 
bridge.  When she was finally alone, she broke down into violent sobs, 
calling out his name in between.  If only he could hear her.

*    *    *    *    *

1958 Local Time
2/26/02
Somewhere in Northern Afghanistan

“Ooooh…” Harm let out a harsh cry from the pain in his right side.  
Somehow 
he had managed to eject from his Tomcat before it was destroyed.  Now, 
he 
found himself perched high on a ledge, overlooking the town he had just 
bombed.

He reached for his radio to try to call for help.  “Damn,” he muttered 
under 
his breath when he realized that it had been destroyed when he landed.  
‘I 
guess I’m on my own,’ he thought as he tried to sit up.  He quickly 
found 
that it was too painful and leaned back against the rocks once again.  
‘Somebody better find me soon,’ he thought, realizing that he wouldn’t 
have 
much time in his condition.  Then his thoughts turned to Mac.  ‘She 
heard 
the whole thing.’  The realization shook him to the core.  He was 
suddenly 
more scared for her than he was for himself.  “I’m alive, Mac,” he said 
softly into the night, hoping that somehow she could hear him.

*    *    *    *    *

2046 Local Time
2/26/02
Somewhere in Northern Afghanistan

The SEAL team that had called in the air strike, quickly made their way 
north in search of the two aviators from the Tomcat that had gone down.  
Their progress was slowed; however, do to the rugged nature of the 
terrain 
in the area.  After nearly an hour, the team reached the peak of a 
ridge and 
spotted a single parachute at the bottom of a ravine.  The extraction 
was 
slow and the SEALS had to repel several hundred feet to the fallen 
officer.  
When they finally got there, they found a badly injured Lieutenant 
Jorgensen, the RIO officer who had flown the mission with Harm.  When 
they 
began the process of transporting her from the ravine, she finally 
regained 
consciousness.  Immediately, the SEAL leader questioned her about the 
missing pilot.

“Lieutenant Jorgensen, my name is Lieutenant Jackson.  You’re a little 
banged up but we are going to get you out of here,” he began as he 
looked 
for signs that she understood him.  When she nodded, he continued.  “Do 
you 
know what happened to Commander Rabb?  Did he eject?  We only saw the 
one 
chute.”

“I’m not sure.  I didn’t see him eject.  It all happened so fast,” she 
replied weakly before passing out again.  The team medic looked at the 
leader with a heavy sigh.  “Sir, we have to get her out of here.  She 
is 
critical and she’s not going to survive us searching for the pilot.  We 
have 
her, Sir.  And, we don’t even know if the Commander ejected.”

“I know, Jimmy.  I know,” Lieutenant Jackson replied in a defeated 
tone.  He 
truly hated what he was going to have to do, but he couldn’t let 
Lieutenant 
Jorgensen die while they searched for a chute they hadn’t even seen.

“Let’s move,” he finally said, motioning for the team members above to 
hoist 
them out.  “Chief Sprigs, radio for evac.”  With that the SEAL team was 
gone 
and all Harm could do was watch from the ledge above.  He had tried to 
call 
to them, but his voice was not cooperating.  Now he knew they were 
leaving.  
Now he was truly on his own.

*    *    *    *    *

2137 Local Time
2/26/02
USS Seahawk

The Captain approached the door to his cabin with a heavy heart.  In 
his 
many years of service, he had sent many men to their deaths.  
None-the-less, 
it still tore at his heart every single time.  On top of the guilt that 
inevitably came with doing so, he so often had had to inform the widow 
of 
the man who had died.  This was far worse than the guilt of knowing 
that his 
order had sent the man to his death.  Even though he knew that the 
Colonel 
was not Commander Rabb’s wife, or even his girlfriend for that matter, 
he 
knew in his heart that this was going to be much like his previous 
experiences.  He took another moment to prepare himself before he 
knocked 
softly on the door.

“Enter,” came a soft voice from the other side of the door.  He could 
tell 
that she had not stopped crying since he had left her almost two hours 
ago.  
As he stepped thru the door the look on his face gave it away as it 
always 
did.  No matter how hard he tried, the widow always knew before he said 
the 
words, and this time was no different.  The instant she caught sight of 
the 
Captain’s face, she lost control and broke down again into 
uncontrollable 
sobs.  He quickly crossed the room and drew her into his arms allowing 
her 
to drown her sobs on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry, Colonel.  I’m so 
sorry.”

*    *    *    *    *

Same Time
Tuesday
Somewhere in Northern Afghanistan

It had only been just under an hour since the SEALS had disappeared 
with 
Lieutenant Jorgensen, but it felt like an eternity to Harm.  He tried 
to 
pass the time by sizing up and attempting to treat his numerous 
injuries.  
Among other things, he had at least two broken ribs and a broken left 
arm to 
go along with multiple cuts and bruises.  The large cut above his left 
eye 
simply refused to stop bleeding regardless of what he did.  None of 
these 
things worried him more than the fact that he was becoming increasingly 
cold.  Every moment that went by it seemed to bring colder gusts of 
wind, 
and Harm found himself wondering how much longer he could hold out.

He didn’t wonder long before he heard faint noises coming from the 
ledge 
above.  He couldn’t make out what they where saying, but it sounded 
like 
English.  He decided that he had to take the chance and called out to 
them.  
A voice called back to him in English identifying himself as British 
Special 
Forces.  Harm breathed a big sigh of relief before shouting back again 
so 
that they could find his exact position.  Then he waited while the four 
men 
in desert fatigues made their way down the sheer cliff.

It took the men about twenty minutes to make their way down to where 
Harm 
was trapped.  The first man to make it down had every appearance of 
being an 
English soldier.  But, Harm let out a sharp gasp when three men with 
long 
beards and white turbans joined him.  He instantly looked up at the 
Englishman for reassurance.  All he found was an evil smirk.  Then the 
man 
extended his hand in a mock offer for a handshake.

“I believe you’ve been had, Sir,” he said coldly.  “My name is Dawson, 
but I 
am not British Special Forces.  Oh no, Al Qaida Special Forces would be 
more 
like it.  Come along then, Commander, isn’t it?  Let’s get you out of 
here.  
I am sure some of my superiors would love to have a chat with you.”  
With an 
evil laugh the Englishman signaled to the others to take him.  Just 
before 
they tried to lift him and pain shot thru his whole body, an image of 
his 
father flashed thru his mind.  In that moment, following in his 
father’s 
footsteps took on a whole new meaning.

*    *    *    *    *

FOUR DAYS LATER

0925 Local Time
3/2/02
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

After spending the previous three days on the Seahawk hoping that the 
numerous searches made by special forces would turn up her partner 
alive, 
Mac finally resigned herself to the fact that he was gone.  She had 
always 
been a logical person, and after speaking with Lieutenant Jorgensen and 
the 
SEAL team, she could find no reason to hold out hope.  After her 
initial 
shock and emotions the night of the mission, she had gone into some 
sort of 
shock shell and hadn’t ventured out of it since.  Her face remained 
cold and 
free of emotion as she made her way into the office.

As she made her way across the bullpen towards the Admiral’s office, 
all of 
her friends came up to her one by one to offer their condolences.  She 
didn’t really hear the words that were directed at her, but somehow she 
managed to mumble enough responses to get across the bullpen and to the 
Admiral’s door.  She knocked softly and swallowed as she felt a torrent 
of 
emotions building once again inside her.  The shock was beginning to 
wear 
off and the heartbreaking sadness was creeping in.  She had experienced 
enough loss in her life to know the stages by heart.  It didn’t make 
them 
any easier to handle, but she knew what to expect.  She knew that when 
she 
opened the door and saw the sympathy that her friend and mentor was 
sure to 
have in his eyes, that she would break down.  It only took another 
moment 
before she heard his voice from inside the office.

“Enter.”  Just that one word sent her over the edge and her stonewalls 
of 
shock crumbled, leaving a crying mess.  She burst through the door and 
threw 
herself into A.J.’s waiting arms.  It didn’t take long for her tears to 
soak 
the front of his navy blue jacket, but he didn’t care.  Some things in 
life 
are simply more important than others.  It was at this moment that the 
shock 
wore off of him as well.  Soon his tears flowed as freely as hers while 
he 
held her close.  In all of his years in the Navy, he had lost many 
close 
friends and comrades, and he had never felt this way before.  Until 
this 
moment he didn’t realize just how much he cared about Harm and Mac.  
They 
had become like his very own children, and now he found himself holding 
one 
in his arms helping her to mourn the other.

Neither one of them knew how long they had been standing there like 
that 
when they heard another knock at the door.  A.J. gently moved Mac into 
a 
chair in front of his desk and dried her eyes with a tissue.  He then 
moped 
up his own eyes before responding to the knock.

“Enter.”

Petty Officer Jason Tiner made his way thru the door quietly.  He knew 
what 
had been going on behind the door and he wanted to make this short.  He 
had 
been struggling with his own emotions since Commander Rabb had been 
shot 
down.  Sure, he was just an enlisted man, but the Commander had always 
treated him kindly and with respect.  The news of his death had shaken 
up 
the younger man a lot more than anyone else would ever know.

“Sorry to interrupt, Sir.  The Burnetts are here.”

The Admiral turned to Mac with the obvious question in his eyes.  At 
her 
nod, he motioned to the yeoman.  “Send them in Tiner.”  A few moments 
later, 
Trish and Frank Burnett made their way into the office.  When Mac and 
Trish 
saw each other, they immediately embraced.  For a few moments, the two 
women 
cried together while the men tried to stay strong.  Finally, Trish 
backed 
away and looked right at Mac.

“You know he loved you with all his heart, don’t you, darling?” she 
asked 
softly as Mac’s eyes filled with tears again.  “I know he had trouble 
letting you know it, but I know that he did.”

“I know.  I guess I always have.  And, I loved him too.”

*    *    *    *    *

Same Time
3/2/02
Somewhere in Northern Afghanistan

By this time, Harm had lost track of the time since he had been 
captured.  
First, the Taliban forces that had captured him, carried him on 
horseback 
into the village he had just bombed.  There, in a makeshift cell, he 
had 
spent what seemed to him like weeks while his wounds became infected.

Finally, after three days, a new group of men had come and taken him to 
a 
small tent where a doctor began to treat his wounds.  If he hadn’t been 
more 
than half out of it, he would have wondered why they hadn’t just killed 
him. 
  It wasn’t as though he could be of much use to them.  Little did he 
know, 
a certain Englishman was narrowly restraining his comrades from doing 
just 
that.  While Harm was in with the doctor, Jack Dawson sat outside the 
tent 
wondering exactly what to do with the American pilot.  He knew that if 
he 
didn’t come up with a feasible plan soon, his afghan comrades would 
kill the 
pilot.

After about an hour, the doctor emerged from the tent and motioned for 
the 
Brit to go in.  He found Harm awake and at least somewhat alert.

“You’re awake, my American friend,” he said sarcastically, as if they 
were 
old friends.

“Yes, I am awake.  And no I am not your friend, you arrogant sonofa…”

“Easy there, Yank.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve just had 
your 
wounds treated and I have kept you fed.  You can’t tell me you expected 
that 
much from this enemy.”

“I would have rather bled to death!”

The older Brit had to chuckle a bit at that.  “Ah, I see you haven’t 
lost 
that famous Yankee spirit.  That’s good, because where you are going, 
you 
are going to need it.”  With that, Dawson pushed back the tent flap and 
disappeared leaving Harm to wonder just what he had meant by that.

*    *    *    *    *

THE NEXT DAY

2154 Local Time
3/3/02
Somewhere in Northern Afghanistan

Harm was starting to feel a little better now that his wounds had been 
attended to.  His arm was in a makeshift sling and his ribs had been 
wrapped 
and his cuts bandaged.  It wasn’t exactly American quality medical 
care, but 
at least the fever that had plagued him for days now seemed to be going 
down.  He was once again isolated in a makeshift cell and he found 
himself 
dozing in and out.  He was extremely tired from the ordeal and they 
weren’t 
feeding him nearly enough for him to regain any strength.

When he was able to sleep, he dreamed about his beloved partner.  And, 
when 
he was awake he thought about nothing but getting home to her.  He 
kicked 
himself now for not telling her how much he loved her while he had the 
chance.  ‘Having your whole world turned upside down sure does change 
your 
perspective,’ he mused, thinking of all of the stupid reasons that he 
had 
used to justify keeping his feelings bottled up inside.  None of them 
seemed 
important to him anymore.  ‘I have to get out of here.  I have to tell 
her 
how I feel,’ he kept telling himself.  The determination to get home to 
his 
Marine was the only thing keeping him going at this point.

Suddenly, the door to his cell flew open and he found himself staring 
into 
the eyes of Jack Dawson.  “Time to move, Commander,” he said coldly as 
he 
motioned for the two other men in the room to grab him.  They quickly 
dragged him thru the building and into the open bed of a waiting Toyota 
pickup.

After tying him in tightly, Dawson climbed behind the wheel and took 
off 
thru the desert leaving Harm in the back with an armed guard.  Another 
armed 
guard sat in the cab with the Brit making three enemy in all.  If he 
had 
been in a little better condition, Harm would have surely tried to 
escape.  
But, at this point he could barely walk.  As the hours passed, Harm 
could 
only watch as the landscape flew by and he was taken farther and 
farther 
away from the only place he could hope to be found.

*    *    *    *    *

Same Time
3/3/02
Arlington National Cemetery
Arlington, Virginia

Very rarely did so many distinguished people come together for the 
funeral 
of a Navy Commander.  As Mac looked around at the many recognizable 
faces 
that had come out for her partner’s funeral, she wondered if even he 
had 
known just how many lives he had touched.  Aside from the many 
high-ranking 
military officers in attendance, the President of the United States 
along 
with two of his living predecessors were there.  The SecNav and several 
congressional figures were present as well as three sitting Supreme 
Court 
justices.

As Mac scanned each of the faces, she began to notice some of the faces 
that 
would mean more to Harm than the famous ones.  There, a few rows up, 
was 
Annie Pendry and her son Josh.  Sitting next to them was Lieutenant 
Rivers.  
She remembered Harm telling her how much he admired that particular 
officer. 
  In the row in front of them sat Meg Austin and Kate Pike, both of 
whom 
were weeping openly.  She knew how much his friendships with his former 
partners meant to him.  After scanning the crowd, her eyes betrayed her 
and 
she began to weep.  After yesterday, she didn’t think she could shed 
one 
more tear, but one look at his photo sitting atop the closed casket, 
broke 
her down all over again.  After a moment, she felt a comforting arm 
around 
her shoulders.  It was A.J., once again her strong comfort.

A few moments later, Harm’s friends and colleagues filed up to the 
podium 
one by one to share a few words.  First to go was Sturgis, who related 
several wonderful memories he had from his days with Harm at the 
Academy.  
After he was finished it was Bud’s turn.  Poor Bud had to stop four 
times to 
control his emotions as he related to the mourners just how much his 
friend 
and mentor meant to him.  The Admiral was next to go, and with tears in 
his 
eyes, he forcefully told of the courageous hero that was Harmon Rabb, 
Jr.  
Mac looked over at Harm’s mother, who wept as she listened to her son’s 
CO 
tell of Harm’s courage and valor, and extended a comforting hand.  The 
older 
woman accepted it gratefully, and the two held onto each other for 
strength.

When Admiral Chegwidden was satisfied that not a soul in attendance 
would 
ever question Harm’s place as an American hero, he slowly made his way 
back 
to his seat.  When he reached Mac, he placed a gentle hand on her 
shoulder 
and whispered to her.  “It’s time, Mac.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, Sir,” she replied between sobs.  She 
didn’t 
know how she could possibly talk to these people about Harm when the 
mere 
mention of his name sent her into fits of tears.  Suddenly she felt 
A.J. 
pull her up and envelope her in his arms.  He held her tight and 
whispered 
in her ear.  “You can do it, Mac.  Do it for him.”  With that, Mac 
pulled 
away with a new sense of purpose.  She strode to the podium dressed in 
her 
dress blues and turned to face the distinguished crowd of mourners.  
After a 
couple of deep breaths, she began to address them.

“Harmon Rabb, Jr. was the most honorable man I have ever known.  From 
the 
first day that I met him he stood by me.  When I needed him he was 
always 
there.  Sure, we had our arguments and our disagreements, but I can’t 
say 
that in all the time I knew him he ever let me down.  He was always 
there 
for me and I don’t know what I will do without him.”

“Harm was also the most caring man I ever knew.  I’ve never known 
anyone who 
tried so hard to fix everyone else’s problems.  And, I have to admit 
that 
sometimes it was a little annoying.  He had a good heart, and that 
counts 
for a lot.”

“Most importantly to me, Harm was the love of my life.  I’ve never said 
that 
out loud before and I will regret that fact until the day I die.  I 
know 
that Harm knew I loved him.  Just as I knew he loved me.  But, we never 
told 
each other out loud.  We robbed each other of the happiness that we 
could 
have shared together.  There were a thousand reasons we each used to 
justify 
keeping our feelings hidden, but now that I’ve lost him none of those 
things 
seem important anymore.  I just wish I had had the courage to tell him 
while 
he was alive.”

As soon as she had finished, she tried to make her way back to her 
seat.  
Halfway there, her mind caught a glimpse of Harm in the cockpit of an 
F-14.  
Then she saw the missile hit the plane and she let out a sharp “No,” 
and 
fainted.  Sergei reached out and caught her, then motioned to the 
Admiral 
who helped him get her to the car.

“Let’s get her the hospital, Admiral.”

*    *    *    *    *

ONE WEEK LATER

0854 Local Time
3/11/02
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Lieutenant Bud Roberts pulled the family minivan into the parking lot 
at JAG 
headquarters.  He immediately noticed the familiar red Corvette in the 
parking space next to his.  “The Colonel isn’t supposed to be back 
until 
next week,” his wife Harriet wondered out loud.  In honesty, Bud didn’t 
know 
how to respond, even to that.  He had been racking his brain, trying to 
think of the right words to say to Mac.  He wanted to be there for her 
and 
so did Harriet, but they just couldn’t figure out what to do.  After a 
moment of sitting there just gazing at one another, Bud spoke up.

“What do we do, Harriet?  You know how I am most of the time.  I am so 
afraid that when I see the Colonel, I am not going to say the right 
thing.”

“We can only do our best, Bud.  Just go with whatever your heart tells 
you.” 
  At that, Bud had to smile.  He could always count on Harriet to be 
there 
for him when he needed advice or just a little comfort.  Then his 
countenance fell again when he realized that that was precisely what 
Mac had 
lost the moment Harm’s plane went down.  He found himself fighting back 
tears once again, and quickly opened the car door and grabbed his 
briefcase.

“Are you ok, Bud?” his wife asked when she joined him in front of the 
car.

“I don’t know, Harriet.  I’m not sure any of us are going to be ok.”

“I know what you mean,” she said, disregarding protocol and wrapping 
her 
arms around her husband.  After a moment, they broke apart and turned 
for 
the front door, both hoping that a little work would help take their 
minds 
off of their fallen friend.

*    *    *    *    *

Same Time
3/11/02
Just outside of Baghdad, Iraq

The last week had truly been the hardest of Harmon Rabb’s entire life.  
He 
had spent the better part of seven days in the back of that sorry 
little 
pickup truck while they wound their way thru parts of Afghanistan, 
Iran, and 
now Iraq.  Harm, at first could not tell where they were headed, but as 
they 
made their way into Iraq the terrain began to look more and more 
familiar.  
He now knew that they were taking him to Baghdad, and his heart sunk 
even 
further because he knew that the odds of him being found outside of 
Afghanistan were very slim.

It was dark out when the little pickup finally reached Baghdad.  Slowly 
they 
wound thru the almost deserted streets before reaching the center of 
the 
city.  They then darted off into a narrow alley and stopped behind what 
looked to be a bakery.  Dawson emerged from the driver’s side of the 
pickup 
and barked orders at the other two men in Arabic.  They proceeded to 
grab 
Harm and lead him in thru the back door of the bakery.  They then led 
him 
down a flight of stairs and into the basement.  At first glance it 
looked 
just like one would expect a basement to look.  Then one of the guards 
threw 
back a sheet that had been dividing the room.  There were seven or 
eight 
cells along the far end of the basement, and Harm could see that they 
held a 
number of different prisoners.

After waiting for Dawson to make his way downstairs, the two Arab 
guards 
questioned him for instructions.  Instead of answering him, the Brit 
made 
his way around them and stood in front of Harm, who didn’t give him the 
courtesy of his attention.  After a well-placed punch to Harm’s 
midsection, 
Dawson seemed satisfied that the American was now paying attention.

“I think I have just the cell for you, Yank,” he said with a derisive 
laugh. 
  He motioned for the two guards to put him in the farthest cell from 
the 
door.  They complied and sent Harm flying into the cell where he landed 
on 
his broken arm.  “Aaaah…” he cried out in pain, which only made the 
guards 
laugh even harder.  He passed out from exhaustion before they could 
mock him 
any further.  A few moments later, Dawson motioned for the other two 
men to 
follow him.  They piled back into the pickup and disappeared into the 
night.

*    *    *    *    *

0935 Local Time
Later that same day
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

After closing the morning staff meeting, Admiral A.J. Chegwidden sat 
alone 
in his office.  He was very worried about one Lt. Colonel Sarah 
Mackenzie.  
He had given her orders to take two weeks off after the fainting spell 
at 
Harm’s funeral.  Yet, here it was, only one week later and she was back 
in 
the office.  He didn’t say anything to her during the staff meeting, 
preferring to take the matter up with her privately at a later time.  
Now, 
he sat wondering if he had really lost one of his best attorneys, or 
both of 
them.

Just then, he heard a soft knock at the door to his office.  “Enter.”

“May we have a word with you, Sir,” Bud said, while standing in the 
doorway 
with his wife, Gunny Galindez, and Tiner.

“Certainly, Lieutenant Roberts.  What’s on your mind?”

“Well, Sir, ever since Commander Rabb’s funeral, I have been trying to 
think 
of a way to honor his memory.  Besides you, Admiral, the Commander 
treated 
me with more kindness and respect than any other officer I’ve ever 
served 
under, and I wanted to do something for him in his memory.  Tiner and 
Gunny 
helped me come up with the idea for this, Sir,” he said, and then 
lifted up 
a large hand painted portrait of Harm standing in front of an F-14.  
Behind 
him in the painting was the flight deck of the USS Seahawk.  Below the 
painting there was a gold embossed description, which read:

Commander Harmon David Rabb, Jr.
1965-2002
Killed courageously in battle over Afghanistan
Respected colleague, caring mentor, and loving friend
Gone but never forgotten

“Outstanding, gentlemen,” was all the Admiral could say after reading 
the 
inscription.  His eyes had tried to tear up, but ever the commanding 
officer 
he had maintained control.

“Sir, with your permission, we would like to hang this in the 
conference 
room in his memory,” Tiner said while looking at the Admiral anxiously.  
Before he could answer, Mac walked into the office.  When she saw the 
look 
on the other’s faces, she thought she had interrupted something.

“I’m sorry, Admiral.  The door was open.  I can come back later,” she 
said 
as she turned to leave.

“Actually, Colonel, you might like to see this,” he said stopping her 
in her 
tracks.  She turned around to see Bud holding up the painting.  After 
reading the inscription, she was speechless and A.J. could see the 
tears 
welling up in her eyes again.

“Roberts, Tiner, and Gunny, thought that this would look good in the 
conference room.  What do you think, Colonel?”

“I think that would be wonderful, Sir.  Thank you all so much.  I know 
Harm 
would be touched.”  With that she fled from the room, no longer able to 
hold 
in her emotions.  She made her way to her office and shut herself in 
with 
the blinds closed.  Then she sat down in her chair and cried again, all 
the 
while wondering if the crying would ever stop.

She was in her office for about forty-five minutes before she heard 
three 
gentle knocks at her door.  “Enter.”

A.J. made his way thru the door and found Mac looking about the way he 
expected her to.  “I thought I told you two weeks, Colonel?” he said 
softly.

“I know.  I just needed to get back here and get back into my routine.  
All 
I do when I am home is think about Harm, and it just hurts too much.”

“I understand.  You will let me know if you need more time off?”

“Yes, Sir.”

At that he turned to leave and then decided that he had one more thing 
to 
tell her.  Turning slowly, he gave her a smile of reassurance before he 
continued.

“Mac, I think you need to think about seeing someone.  I know you are a 
Marine, and you are damn fine one at that, but even the toughest 
Marines 
would have trouble with this.  No one expects you to go thru this 
alone, and 
we will all be here for you.  Just the same, I want you to think about 
seeing a professional.”

Mac didn’t think that it would help, but she also knew that it wouldn’t 
help 
to argue.  If she did, he was liable to make it an order.  So, she gave 
him 
a week smile and promised him she would think about it.  Satisfied that 
she 
would be all right for now, he turned and made his way back to his own 
office.  As she watched her CO cross the bullpen she found herself 
thinking: 
‘I don’t need a shrink, I need my best friend.’

*    *    *    *    *

THE NEXT DAY

0725 Local Time
3/12/02
Secret Prison
Baghdad, Iraq

Caught in that space between awake and asleep, the mind of the injured 
and 
weary pilot seemed stuck in one place.  He was dreaming of her.  The 
same 
way he had every night for such a long time, only there was something 
different.  In his dream state, he couldn’t quite put a finger on it.  
Everything in his dreams just seemed darker somehow.  She was calling 
to 
him, telling him to wake up.  ‘Wake up, Harm.  Wake up,’ she kept 
saying 
over and over.  He reached for her, calling out her name in reply.  
‘Mac, 
Mac…’

Suddenly he was jarred out of his sleep by someone shaking his 
shoulders.  
He heard a faint voice as he slowly opened his eyes.  “Wake up, Harm.  
Wake 
up.”  As his eyes came back into focus, he recognized where he was.  He 
slowly took in his new surroundings.  The walls were made of red clay 
and 
were crumbling in a few places, a small window at the top of one wall 
let in 
a little light thru the bars that covered the opening.  The front side 
of 
the cell was made up of tall steel bars that were very close together, 
and 
an armed guard sat on the other side of the basement watching all of 
the 
cells.

When he turned his attention back to the center of the cell, he found 
himself staring into a pair of bright blue eyes.  “Good morning, Harm,” 
the 
man said quietly, startling his new cellmate into reality.  Then he 
turned 
and walked over to the far side of the cell and sat down, waiting 
patiently 
for Harm to gather his senses.  In the mean time, Harm lay on the floor 
trying to determine if he was still asleep or now awake.  He looked 
over at 
the thin little man who was apparently his cellmate, trying to figure 
out 
how he knew his name.

After a few more moments, now convinced that he was indeed awake, Harm 
tried 
to pick himself up off of the ground only to find that he couldn’t make 
it 
up on his own.  His new cellmate quickly made his way over and helped 
Harm 
onto one of the cots in the cell.

“Thanks,” he managed quietly, as he took another good look at the man.

“Your welcome, Harm.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Don’t you recognize me, Harm?  It’s me, Chris.”  Suddenly recognition 
dawned over Harm and his jaw fell straight to the floor.

“It can’t be,” was all he could say.  The memories came flooding back 
like a 
tidal wave.  Eleven years ago, just before his crash, Harm had been on 
carrier duty during Desert Shield.  His wingman during his tour was a 
young 
Nebraska farm boy named Chris Springs.  During his rehabilitation, 
after the 
crash, he had received word that Chris had been shot down over Iraq and 
that 
he had been declared KIA.  Now, he stared into the same piercing blue 
eyes 
that he remembered, but they weren’t attached to the same man.  The man 
who 
stood before him couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and twenty 
pounds.  He was hunched over and wore a beard that extended down to his 
chest.  The hair on his head was nearly all gone and he was covered in 
dirt 
from head to toe.

“My God, it is you,” he said softly as horrific thoughts raced thru his 
head.  He thought about Chris’ family back home and all of the people 
who 
thought he was dead.

“Yes, it’s me, Harm.”

“But, how?”

“I ejected before the missile hit my plane.  The Iraqis were waiting 
for me 
when I hit the ground.  I expected someone to come and try to rescue 
me, but 
no one ever came.  I assume everyone thinks I am dead.”

“I’m afraid so, my friend.”

“What year is it, Harm?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Two thousand and two.”

“Eleven years,” Chris said with a long sigh.

“I’m afraid so.”

*    *    *    *    *

Same Time
3/12/02
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Mac made her way slowly toward her car after a very long day.  Her 
caseload 
had grown dramatically since Harm’s death, and she had spent most of 
the day 
just trying to get it all organized.  Having to read his notes and see 
his 
handwriting in all of the files she went thru didn’t help either.  As 
the 
days went by she began to doubt whether or not she was really going to 
be 
ok.

After a forty-five minute ride in traffic, she finally pulled up in 
front of 
her apartment.  When she got out of her car and turned to go inside, 
she 
heard a familiar voice calling to her from the other side of the 
parking 
lot.  When she turned she saw her little sister Cloe make a beeline for 
her. 
  When the young girl reached Mac, she practically leaped into her arms 
and 
wrapped her arms around her big sister.

“Mac, I’m so sorry,” she said as tears slid down her cheeks.  “I’m 
sorry I 
couldn’t get here any sooner.”

“That’s alright, Cloe,” she replied, trying not to tear up herself.  
“You 
and Grams come on inside.  You can tell me everything that’s going on 
with 
you.”

“Ok.”

*    *    *    *    *

Two hours later
3/12/02
Mac’s Apartment
Georgetown

Cloe had curled up at one end of the couch and was out like a light.  
Mac 
and Cloe’s grandmother, Martha, were sitting across from each other, 
drinking coffee and chatting about Cloe.  Martha filled Mac in on the 
goings 
on at the their farm and told her how well Cloe had been doing in 
school.  
Mac found that talking about something other than Harm’s death or work 
seemed to help and she was soon smiling at the funny stories that the 
older 
woman told about her little sister.

After quite some time, Martha decided to turn in and left Mac alone in 
the 
living room.  She found herself, once again, thinking about Harm.  One 
by 
one, all of the memories that they had made together filed thru her 
mind.  
She found herself laughing at the happy memories and crying for some of 
the 
sad ones.  Suddenly, she was jarred from her thoughts by three soft 
knocks 
at the door.  She jumped up from the couch and made her way to the 
door, but 
when she looked thru the peephole, there was nothing on the other side.  
Slowly, she opened the door to look outside.  The door caught on 
something, 
and Mac had to push a little harder to get it to open.  What she found, 
sitting in the hallway, would change her life forever.

*    *    *    *    *

2354 Local Time
3/12/02
Mac’s Apartment
Georgetown

When Mac opened the door to her apartment, she first looked around to 
see if 
anyone was still in the hallway.  When she didn’t find anyone there, 
she 
looked down to see what had been blocking the door.  Her heart stopped 
beating and her jaw dropped to the floor when she saw what it was.

There, sitting in a little basinet, was a beautiful baby girl.  For a 
moment 
Mac just stared down at the little girl in utter shock.  Her head was 
swimming and she had no idea what to do next.  Then her Marine 
instincts 
took over.  With one quick move, she put the baby inside of her 
apartment 
and closed the door.  She then proceeded to make a quick check of the 
building to see if she could find the person that left the baby.

After only a few short minutes, she returned having found no trace of 
the 
baby’s parents.  She stepped back into her apartment and scooped the 
basinet 
up off of the floor and placed it on the kitchen counter.  That’s when 
she 
found the note attached to the babies clothes with a safety pin.

To whoever finds this note,

I am so sorry to do this to you.  I love my baby very much, but I 
simply 
cannot take care of her.  Her father is dead with no living family and 
I 
have no family of my own.  I can’t take care of her by myself and I 
want her 
to have a happy life.  Please take care of her.  I promise not to show 
up 
later and interfere.  I am gone for good.

Thank you,
PR

P.S. Her name is Rose and her birthday is February 17th.

Mac was dumbfounded when she read the letter that the baby’s mother had 
obviously written.  She couldn’t understand how someone could abandon 
such 
an adorable little child.  She could certainly understand how this 
little 
girl would feel if she knew.  The loneliness would be something like 
what 
she felt when her mother left her so many years ago.

“Well, little Rose,” she whispered to the little girl.  “I guess we are 
just 
going to have to stick together, you and I.”

*    *    *    *    *

Same Time
3/12/02
Secret Prison
Baghdad, Iraq

After spending the last several hours filling Harm in on the conditions 
and 
the story that went along with his eleven years in the bakery basement, 
Chris finally asked the question that had been on his mind since the 
moment 
Dawson had tossed Harm into his cell.

“What is going on in the world, Harm?  Surely we aren’t still at war 
with 
Iraq.  I haven’t heard any bombs or anything like that in years.”

“No, actually, we are at war with terrorism,” Harm replied, realizing 
that 
his friend didn’t know anything that had happened in the last eleven 
years.

“Terrorism?”

“Yes, on September 11th of last year, two hijacked commercial airliners 
flew 
into the twin towers of the word trade center. A third slammed into the 
Pentagon.  Thousands of innocent people were killed.  The evidence 
points to 
a known terrorist by the name of Osama Bin Laden.  We think he is in 
Afghanistan.  That’s where I was when I was shot down.”

After taking a few seconds to digest what Harm had just told him, Chris 
began to wonder what Harm had been doing flying.

“You got your eyes fixed then?”

“Yeah, a couple of years ago I found out that I had been misdiagnosed.  
Laser surgery fixed my eyes, and now I fly part time.”

“What do you do when you’re not flying?”

“I’m a JAG lawyer.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I wouldn’t kid you now.  I’ll save that for after we bust out of 
here.”

*    *    *    *    *

The next morning
0852 Local Time
3/13/02
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Mac made her way across the bullpen, carrying baby Rose in a baby 
carrier 
that she had borrowed from a neighbor.  Everyone stopped what they were 
doing and stared at the Colonel as she made her way toward the 
Admiral’s 
office.  Finally, when she reached Tiner’s desk, she turned and found 
Bud, 
Harriet, Gunny and several of the others following her.

“Haven’t any of you ever seen a baby before?” she asked in a stern 
voice.  
At this, the other staff members mumbled their apologies and went back 
to 
work.  Everyone except Tiner, who had come around and was talking 
softly to 
the baby as if seeing Mac, with a baby, was the most normal thing in 
the 
world.

“I guess you need to see the Admiral, Ma’am,” he said with an 
understanding 
smile.

“Yes, thank you, Tiner.”

“Send her in,” the Admiral responded over the intercom.  Mac lifted the 
baby 
out of the basinet and cradled her in her arms before entering the 
Admiral’s 
office.  When she got thru the door, A.J. was reading something 
intently and 
didn’t notice the baby in Mac’s arms.  He did notice that she didn’t 
come to 
attention and he was a little annoyed for a moment.

“Isn’t it customary for an officer to come to attention when entering 
her 
CO’s office,” he asked sharply just as he looked up at her.  When he 
saw the 
baby in her arms he felt guilty for snapping at her.  “I’m sorry, 
Colonel.  
I didn’t realize.”

“Understandable, Sir.”

“I take it that she is the reason you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Take a seat and start at the beginning, Colonel.”

*    *    *    *    *

0945 Local Time
3/13/02
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Mac spent the next half hour explaining to the Admiral how she had come 
to 
be in possession of little baby Rose.  After just a few moments, A.J. 
had 
asked to hold the child and she had been in his arms while Mac paced 
about 
and told the story.  When she was done, he asked the obvious question.

“So, what do you plan to do about this, Colonel?”

“I’m not sure, Sir.  I was hoping that you could give me some ideas.  I 
know 
that there will have to be some paperwork, but I would really like to 
take 
care of Rose myself.  I don’t want her going into the system and ending 
up a 
foster child her whole life.”

“What are you saying, Mac?” A.J. asked her, now a little confused as to 
her 
intentions.  “Are you saying that you want to adopt this baby?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What about your career, Mac?  Do you realize how much time a baby 
takes?”

“Yes, Sir.  I am also aware that more than one woman working in this 
office 
deals with that on an everyday basis,” she replied, now more sure than 
ever 
that this is what she wanted to do.  She had spent the entire night 
thinking 
it thru like a logical Marine, and she didn’t see any reason that she 
couldn’t take good care of Rose and do her job at the same time.

“That is true, Colonel.  However, both of those young women have 
husbands to 
help them out.”

“Yes, Sir.  That merely makes up for the fact that neither one of those 
women is a Marine, Sir,” she said with a small grin, as a matching one 
made 
it’s way across the Admiral’s face.  He looked down at the little girl 
in 
his arms and smiled.  He knew that Mac’s mind was set, and thus he knew 
that 
he would be seeing a lot of this little girl.

*    *    *    *    *

TWO WEEKS LATER

1025 Local Time
3/27/02
Social Services Office
Washington, D.C.

After explaining her intentions to the Admiral, Mac had taken Rose to 
Social 
Services to report what had happened.  After going thru a thorough 
background check, Mac had been granted temporary custody of baby Rose 
pending the outcome of a custody hearing.  Now their day in court had 
finally arrived, and Mac held Rose close as she made her way into the 
Social 
Services office.

When she entered the office she was greeted by Janet Drake.  Janet was 
an 
older woman, maybe in her early sixties, from what Mac could tell.  She 
had 
handled Rose’s case from day one and Mac really liked her.  Today, 
Janet had 
a wide smile across her face when Mac first saw her.

“Congratulations, Sarah,” she said as soon as she saw Mac.  Mac’s heart 
froze when she heard this.

“Does that mean the adoption came thru?” she asked breathlessly, as she 
squeezed Rose just a little tighter against her chest.

“Yes, it does.  The Judge just called me and told me that you can pick 
up 
the paperwork in his office tomorrow morning.”

Mac was now smiling from ear to ear.  She looked down at the precious 
child 
that she held in her arms and she whispered in her ear.

“It’s just you and me now little angel.”

*    *    *    *    *

End of Chapter I

To be continued in “The Space Between II: Hope In You For Me”