Skipped Ahead a Bit, Yeah...
Certain Methods
Word Count: 2,513
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.
Spoilers: Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I just break things.
Summary: Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.
Author's Note: Long conversation, a bit of skipping ahead... There's usually a reason for these things. Maybe.
Unanswered Questions
"I guess it's a good thing that Bud is bunking down with Doctor Santino and the others," Mac commented, sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling over at Harm. He gave her a look, too tired to do more right now. He didn't know what they were going to do next, not in terms of this Osborne thing, but he knew that he was ready to hit the sack. "Means you get your own bed-and no sleeping in shifts."
Harm smiled a little. "Look at you. Finding the silver lining. I'm proud of you."
She picked up a pillow and threw it at him. He made a face, then folded his arms over his chest as he addressed her sternly, pointing a finger at her. "Now, Major, don't be destroying any of the motel's property. You could have broken that mirror behind me."
She rolled her eyes. "It was a pillow, Harm, and you deserve a lot more than that."
"Probably," he agreed, crossing over to sit down next to her. Careles had left for his appointment, and despite the way that the admiral had dismissed Harm's questions about the former SEAL needing some kind of protection, he had followed his friend not long after, leaving Harm and Mac to finish their dinner in a strained silence. They were out of their depth here, whether they wanted to admit that or not. This was a game that Osborne and Careles were playing, and only the two of them knew the rules. They hadn't let anyone else in on it, and that wouldn't change. The admiral could follow along and adapt to them as well, but he knew both men. None of the rest of them did. They didn't know what they were doing.
Bud, at least, had a role. He might not think he could handle his protection duty, and he might not like it, either, but he still had a function, a way to make himself useful. Other than talking to Webb, Harm and Mac had no real part to play, and they were feeling it. It was one thing to be lost in a situation like this, but to have only a part of the picture and no role, no way to be of use-that was probably the hardest part to accept. He was a fighter pilot, a man of action. Mac was a marine. They wanted to be doing something useful.
"You think you'll wrap up that Peale thing tomorrow?" Harm asked, looking at Mac.
She reached up to rub her neck. "I don't know. Maybe. Hopefully. I don't know how well Peale will react to the offer that Careles made, but I guess I hope he takes it. I don't-I kind of see his point, and I hate the idea of sweeping it under the rug. I don't agree with what he did, but I am as angry as he is about the way he and other veterans have been treated."
"I know what you mean, Mac. We're in the middle of an unpopular war, and it's never seemed right to me that people that don't know anything about the fighting, that don't understand the sacrifices that the men and women over there make, that have never served are making judgments like that. These people give their lives. They give up their comfort and leave their loved ones to protect someone else, and that always seems to get forgotten."
"Not always," Mac disagreed. She gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry. I know that touches a nerve with you-your father. I know why the admiral gave me the case. I'm a little less likely to react as strongly as you."
"Yeah, maybe."
"Thanks a lot," she muttered, smacking him on the arm. He reached over and rubbed the sore spot as she rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Like it was that bad. I could have done a lot worse."
"That is abuse, Major."
"What are you going to do about it, squid?" she asked, throwing the words at him like a challenge. He looked at her, a smile creeping over his face as he thought about what he might do. He leaned over, getting right in her personal space, ready to accept that challenge. He was never one to back down, even when he should have. He smiled, carefully choosing what to tell her when the door suddenly opened.
They both looked over in surprise, jumping apart somewhat guiltily as the admiral came in, followed by Careles. That was unexpected, to say the least.
How had they gotten in here? Did they have a key? Or did they have some way of breaking the hotel's security? That wasn't very reassuring, but neither was the fact that Harm wasn't as sure that he had a room to himself anymore. Was the admiral staying here? Harm didn't really want to share the bed in shifts with his commanding officer. He hadn't been very thrilled with the idea of doing that with Bud, but he was used to Bud. Mostly. And what had happened to Careles this time? He looked like hell. Again. Did the man ever take a break? Probably not. No one else in the room would have.
"Here," Careles threw something at Mac, who caught it and lifted it up in her hand. Harm thought he recognized it, but then again, technology wasn't exactly his strong point. Not unless it had wings. Then he understood it. Machines were different from gadgets, and he preferred the ones without the computers to the ones with them. That was why he drove his Corvette. Why he had Sarah-the plane, not the woman next to him.
The woman next to him was very much her own person, and she would always stay that way.
"What is this?" Mac asked, turning it over in her fingers. She made it disappear like a magician did a coin, and Harm smiled a little. Nice trick. It helped lighten the mood a little.
"The frequency unit for the tracker I planted on Osborne. The actual tracker uses burst transmissions and modulates itself over time, so that is the only way of making it work," Careles answered, setting himself down in the chair. He did not look even the slightest bit comfortable. If Harm had to bet, he'd say that the man had gotten hurt again. What was that, three times in the last day? The guy had no sense of self-preservation. Made him a good SEAL, but it also meant that no one would want to protect him.
Harm tried to take the unit from Mac, but she held it out of his reach. As the admiral gave them a look, Harm forced a tight smile at her triumphant one and turned to Careles again. "How did you manage to plant a tracker on Osborne?"
"He was too focused on trying to knife me to notice that I was planting it on him," Careles seemed amused by that, but Harm had a feeling that the man hadn't walked away without a scratch, not from that encounter. Judging from the admiral's dark look, he was right. How bad was the damage this time? Was there anything that they could do to keep him still for a while, to let him recover from part of it? Probably not.
Careles didn't even seem to care. He kept talking, gesturing to the tracker he'd given Mac. "It's actually a very ingenious device-one I think that Mr. Webb's agency would envy, since I doubt they have it. This one was developed in the private sector, by a firm I have some connections with. They are always on the leading edge of technology, right up there with our agencies. In some respects, that is unfortunate, and yet it is not. I have always appreciated the access I've had. These things are not just for militaries and spy games. The best part is that I don't think that Osborne will even notice the slight alteration to his jacket. Unfortunately, if he goes anywhere without it, that will do us no good, but it is better than nothing."
Harm exchanged a look with Mac. She might be concerned as well, but she was doing a pretty good job of concealing it. "I thought you were-you said you had a meeting. You went off to face Osborne alone?"
Careles shook his head. "No. I knew AJ would follow, and it was not Osborne that I was meeting. If I had arranged a set meeting with him-well, no, that would never happen. I really would have liked to have ended this tonight, but since we need the puppet master, we had to avoid that for now. Osborne thinks he's won, but he's wrong. We're closer to the one holding his strings than he realizes. That is the other part of what I managed to uncover tonight. For you, Commander. I figure you can do something with these names."
Harm caught the envelope that Careles tossed him, frowning at it for a moment before opening it up. "Who are these people supposed to be?"
"Possible sponsors for our favorite psychopath," the admiral was the one to answer this time. Careles had closed his eyes and looked like he might be on the verge of passing out again. It wouldn't surprise Harm at all. Had he told Chegwidden what was in the envelope or had the admiral already opened it?
"Does he need medical attention?"
The admiral grunted. "He'll say no, but we all know better. Don't worry about it, Commander. I'll drag him over to the doctor's hands soon enough."
"You are not letting her fuss over me," Careles mumbled, still more on the side of out than he was on the other. He lifted a hand and pointed vaguely in Chegwidden's direction. "She is not a medical doctor. It is not a good idea to go back to their location, either. It would compromise her safety. And Juliette's."
"Lieutenant?"
Careles opened his eyes a little, focusing on Chegwidden. "Sir?"
"Shut up," the admiral ordered, and Careles laughed a little before he curled up further in the chair, looking like he intended to sleep. Harm looked back at his list. "Nico's contact got us a few interested parties. We'll need more information. That will be for you two-and possibly Webb, if need be-will get for us. Major, are you planning on resolving Peale tomorrow?"
"Yes, sir, if that's not an issue for us or for the sergeant," she agreed, trying to look at the list. Harm held it out of her reach. This one was his. If she wasn't going to let him see the tracker, he got to keep this paper. Fair was fair. She gave him a look and smacked his arm again, right in the same spot. Oh, this was going to mean war, wasn't it?
"Shouldn't be on our end, but you make sure he's comfortable with the decision before you proceed."
Harm looked down at the paper again. "Between this and the tracker-Sir, if it's not too much to ask, why do you two even need us?"
Chegwidden rubbed one hand over his knuckles. "What the lieutenant over there likes to forget is that SEALs work as a team. That means that we're more than one lone ranger, one commando on his own going in. He thinks he likes working that way, but you've seen him after a concussion."
"I resent that. I'm not an idiot. I do good work by myself."
Chegwidden turned back to look at him. Careles hadn't opened his eyes, still looked mostly asleep, but he very clearly wasn't. "Didn't I tell you to shut up?"
"You're talking about me."
"Not the point, Lieutenant, and I'll talk about you if I want to. I outrank you, remember?" The admiral went over and helped Careles back onto his feet, the other man grunting as he did. "I had to punch that bastard right in the face to get you out of that mess back there, and don't forget that, either. You can't do this on your own, so accept it. You've got good people backing you up. They'll see you through it."
"Doesn't matter. If Osborne doesn't get me, Santino will," Careles muttered, stumbling toward the door. "Dead man either way."
"Oh, hell, Nico, love's not a death sentence," the admiral disagreed, laughing a little. Harm looked at Mac, and she shook her head. She probably thought it was most of the time. Since the admiral was divorced and had lost the judge, he might be inclined to think differently, but he apparently didn't. "Just... close enough sometimes."
Careles tried to stop as the admiral kept prodding him toward the door. "It is more than close. And more than sometimes. She's with a girl who-biologically or not-is my daughter. I repeat-I am a dead man."
"I take your point," the admiral agreed, opening the door again. "I suggest you enjoy the last few days-should be a hell of a ride this time."
Whatever Careles said to that was in Italian and cut off before he was done as the door shut behind them. Harm shook his head, a part of him wishing that he knew what they were saying and the other half convinced that he didn't really want to know. Mac laughed, a grin on her face. Harm didn't realize that Italian was one of the languages she knew.
"You understood that?"
She shook her head. So she hadn't gotten the Italian. That made Harm feel a little bit better. "No, but I think I could guess. I don't think Careles liked the way the admiral was talking about his future girlfriend."
"Oh."
She looked at the door again, still smiling. "I am seeing a whole new side to the admiral, and I have to say, I kind of like it."
Harm nodded in agreement. Careles was good for the admiral, and the other man needed to have Chegwidden around. He needed him to pull his ass out of the fire, and Harm couldn't think of a better person to do that than the admiral. Either him or Mac, and if not them, then Bud. "Yeah, me, too. I just hope his friend doesn't manage to get himself killed doing all this."
"I wonder what really happened with him and Osborne."
That was one hell of a question, wasn't it? They didn't have any information on the past. Even the file that Webb had showed them hadn't included that information. Like the SEAL team that the admiral had served with, the details had been concealed, and Osborne wasn't listed anywhere in Careles' file. That left Harm with plenty of questions, wanting to demand answers that he knew he'd never get. Careles wasn't going to share, and the admiral backed him on it. Even what had happened to Careles earlier wasn't going to be public knowledge, or so it would seem.
Harm turned to Mac. "You mean tonight or before?"
She shrugged. "Take your pick."
"We'll probably never know."
Chapter Fourteen