Living the Lie, Chapter 1
Title: Living the Lie
Fandom: Stargate SG-1/JAG crossover
Pairings: Sam/Jack, Harm/Mac
Rating: PG, guess it's possible it could be PG-13 later for violence
Timeline: Just before Christmas in Season 10 of JAG, and Season 8 of SG-1.
Summary: Living a life of lies can be tough, especially when those lies are not only given to the public to excuse ones job, but also told to yourself to hide your own feelings. When Harm and Mac get sent to Stargate Command to investigate the death of a marine, the members of the SGC have to live their lie just a little more convincingly. Right up until the point where things go wrong.
0200 MST Saturday
Brigadier General John “Jack” O’Neill grumbled irritably at the phone. “Oh for crying out loud. Who could possibly be calling at…” he glanced at the bedside clock, “Two a.m.?”
The phone’s only answer was to ring insistently once more. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.” Jack rolled over, muttering a few choice curses as the sheet tangled around his waist preventing him from moving freely. The phone rang shrilly once more as he snatched it from the cradle. “What!” Jack barked into the phone.
“Sir?”
“Carter? What the hell are you calling at such an hour for?”
“General, we have a problem, Lieutenant Webster has been murdered.”
“Webster? As in SG-3 Lt. Webster?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jack sighed, rubbing one hand tiredly through his hair, if it wasn’t one thing it was another. He sat up slightly, leaning one shoulder against the headboard. The room was still pitch black, only a sliver of moonlight illuminating a small portion of the floor through a gap in the curtains. Jack gazed through the small gap in the curtains, “Ok, I’ll head out to his house; you’ve already notified Colonel Reynolds?”
“Yes, sir, he’ll meet you there.”
“Good. I’ll head to base afterwards.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam hung up the base phone and sighed, staring at the receiver for a moment, it was going to be a long day.
Jack hit the “phone” button and half-heartedly glared at the receiver before dropping it back into the cradle. Swinging his legs around he stumbled out of bed, kicking the sheets out of the way when they tried to follow him to the floor. He didn’t bother with the lights, relying on the faint moonlight and his knowledge of the house to navigate him around the room safely.
Wide awake now as the news began to sink in Jack didn’t bother with a uniform, opting instead for khakis and a pullover. Sitting on the edge of the bed he tied on his black combat boots with the ease of long practice. Different thoughts vied for attention but the foremost was who the hell would murder a marine Lt? Unfortunately, he didn’t have the answer to that; he could only hope the cops would. Sighing he stood, wincing slightly as his knees creaked.
Jack made his way towards the front door, stopping briefly to grab his leather jacket and tug it on. Scooping up the keys to his truck from the counter he headed out into the early morning darkness.
0234 MST Saturday
Jack stopped his F-350 in front of the apartment building and sighed, studying the sea of flashing lights in front of him. He identified cops, EMS, and even a fire truck though he wasn’t sure what the latter was doing there. Almost before he’d registered the presence of the various vehicles an officer was at his door, tapping lightly on the window. Sighing once more Jack turned off the truck and stepped out, absently pulling his jacket slightly closer.
“Excuse me, sir. This area is off limits,” the officer spoke quietly, apologetic yet firm.
“I’m General Jack O’Neill, Lt. Webster was one of my officers,” Jack flashed his military ID at the officer.
The other man looked momentarily puzzled, “But the Lt.’s commanding officer is already here, a Colonel Reynolds, sir.”
“Yeah, I know. Colonel Reynolds was Webster’s immediate superior,” Jack didn’t get a chance to explain further before a shout rang out from the general direction of the building. Looking over Jack spotted a tired looking Colonel Reynolds, also in civilian clothing, heading towards him.
“General!” Reynolds strode up, nodding absently to the officer, “Officer Scott, if you’ll excuse us.”
Officer Scott nodded and turned away, shrugging off the oddity of the two high ranking military officer’s presence and started back towards the small congregation of officers near the front steps. “So what happened, Reynolds? Marines just don’t randomly get murdered.”
Reynolds sighed heavily, combing his fingers back through his hair in a motion of frustration, “I don’t know, sir.”
“You don’t know?”
“The only recently let me onto the crime scene, had to pull some rank as the kid’s CO to do it. Even then they only let me look over the police tape across the door. Place is a wreck, sir. Lt. Webster’s service weapon is on the floor next to a rather large pool of blood. Apparently they’re waiting for the rest of the CSI team before they touch anything but the body.”
“They have no clue what happened then?”
“Not really, they…” Reynolds trailed off as a police inspector walked up. Both men looked at the newcomer expectantly, hoping for more information on the situation.
“Colonel Reynolds?” Reynolds nodded slightly in acknowledgement then the inspector shot a puzzled look at Jack, “And you are?”
“General Jack O’Neill.”
“Ah, I’m Inspector Williams. The forensics people have arrived, they’re looking over the scene now. We should have more information for you in a few hours. Who were the last people to see Lt. Webster?”
“That would be us, Inspector,” Jack answered.
“And what time was that?”
Jack glanced at Reynolds for a moment, “Three hours ago was it, Reynolds?”
“Three and a half now, sir.”
“Right. Yeah we uh, last saw the Lt. at approximately 2300.”
The Inspector blinked in confusion, after a brief moment his expression cleared, “Ah yes, eleven pm.”
Jack smiled faintly, “Yes, sir, eleven pm.”
0500 EST Saturday
Lieutenant Colonel Sarah “Mac” MacKenzie jogged slowly through the park, lost in thought. Recent events played through her mind slowly, as if a video in slow motion. She didn’t know what to think anymore. So much had happened in the past months, first Clay being dead, then Clay not being dead, then everything with Harm, the new JAG, everything with Harm… some days it made her want to scream. It all came back to her and Harm’s relationship it seemed, or lack thereof depending on the day and time. Sturgis was right; they did seem to be a black hole that sucked everything around them in.
Mac sighed, jogging steadily onward in the pre-dawn light. It was crazy to be out jogging this early, especially so late in the year but she’d been unable to sleep and next thing she knew she was out running. Some days she wished she could just run away from her life, but then reality would sink in and she’s realize that even if she could, she wouldn’t. The morning was dawning, clear and cold, a crystal blue sky without a cloud in sight. It would be a gorgeous day, though the temperature was dropping.
The park was quiet; it was too early yet for most people to be awake, much less out of bed, on a Saturday. Idly she wondered if Harm was up yet, probably not unless he’d never gone to bed. Almost as if her thought had conjured him, her cell phone rang. Stopping next to a nearby bench, Mac pulled the cell from her pocket, flipping it open, “MacKenzie.”
“Hey, Mac.”
“Harm! What are you doing up so early?” She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips at the sound of his voice.
“Could ask you the same question, but I imagine your reason is better than mine,” he could tell from her tone that he hadn’t woken her.
Mac chuckled softly, “I wouldn’t count on it, but it would depend on your answer.”
“The general just called me, Mac.”
“The general? Why would he be calling on a Saturday?” Mac was puzzled but she had a sinking feeling she knew why the JAG would be calling a JAG officer so early, especially on a weekend.
Harm sighed heavily at the other end of the line, Mac could see clearly in her mind his resigned expression, “A marine was just murdered.”
“Just?” Mac felt the breath leave her in a rush, who was this marine that prompted such a quick response? Without realizing it she sat down on the bench, a small part of her mind praising her good sense for stopping where she did.
“They put time of death at 0130-“
“That was over three hours ago,” Mac interjected.
“Mountain time,” Harm finished. “He was killed in Colorado Springs.”
“Oh. So why were you called?”
“General Cresswell wants us to go conduct a JAG investigation in parallel with the police investigation. Though I got the impression that was more someone else’s idea than his,” Harm smiled briefly at his end of the line, recalling the general’s annoyance when he called earlier.
Mac grinned also, she could just imagine whose idea it was, “SecNav?”
“The general didn’t say so but I get that impression. Also, if necessary we are to provide legal counsel.”
“We? As in you and me?”
“Yeah, I told the general I’d take care of informing you; let him enjoy the rest of his Saturday.”
Mac sighed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she had a feeling it was going to be a long weekend. “When do we leave?”
“One hour, from Dulles. Hope you have a bag packed, marine.”
“Always, squid. See you at the airport,” Mac hung up and sat staring at the cell for a moment, she had a bad feeling about this. Unfortunately, sitting at the park wasn’t going to help get her to the airport in time. Standing, Mac tucked the phone back into her pocket and headed towards her car. Fortunately she’d been near the end of the run anyways.
0600 EST Saturday
Commander Harmon “Harm” Rabb, Jr. strode through the terminal, ignoring the curious glances of fellow airport patrons. He knew he looked a bit out of place in his Navy blues but then again, you’d think people would be used to seeing military personnel by now. Ah well, wasn’t his concern; his thoughts drifted back to what he knew about the case which was, quite simply, almost nothing. The marine had been killed in his home, time of death was approximately 0130 and there was no sign of forced entry. The only other information they had was name, rank, base, and job. Harm sighed; the powers that be weren’t going to make this easy were they?
Glancing upward he realized he’d reached his gate. He looked around briefly for Mac but his partner was no where in sight. Shrugging to himself he headed for the desk by the gate, Mac would get there in time if she wasn’t already on the plane; he had no doubts about that. Flashing a brief smile he handed his ticket over to the woman waiting for it. Harm glanced out the window overlooking the runways, watching a plane taxi past. Looking back to the ticket checker he smiled at her absently, only half-noticing her flirtatious smile in return. She seemed about to speak when another voice intervened, “You beat me, commander.”
Harm turned to Mac, the smile blossoming into a full blown flyboy grin, “Guess you’re just a bit slow today, marine.”
Mac grinned in return, unable to help herself. She would swear he’d patented that grin; no one else had the ability to make her melt with just a smile; not that she’d ever admit that to anyone. Stepping up beside her partner she handed the attendant her ticket, flashing a smile at the other woman. For his part Harm was still watching Mac, the grin still in place. As a result only Mac noticed the look of jealousy cross the woman’s face. Smiling internally she reclaimed Harm’s and her own tickets. Handing his ticket to him she commented in a tone of voice hinting at lingering amusement, “Come on, flyboy, they aren’t going to wait on us forever.”
“After you, Mac,” Harm held out an arm indicating she should precede him. Still smiling she headed into the tunnel connecting the plane to the terminal. Harm followed, surreptitiously admiring her in her marine greens. Mac glanced over her shoulder at him, commenting mischievously, “She was cute.”
Harm blinked, his train of thought derailing. Focusing on what Mac has just said he asked in bewilderment, “Who?”
“The woman who took our tickets. She seemed to think you were cute too.”
“No, she didn’t.”
Mac laughed, “You are so oblivious, Harm.”
“Oblivious to what?” When she merely entered the plane instead of answering he groaned mentally, she wasn’t going to be very cooperative he could tell. Rather, she was going to enjoy tormenting him. Yet, despite the little voice in his head warning against it, he persisted, “To what, Mac?”
Nearly smirking she waited for him to take his window seat before claiming the seat next to his, murmuring an apology to the man on the aisle, “Forget it, Harm.”
“Mac…” his voice trailed off warningly.
Instead of taking the hint she just laughed before directing her attention pointedly to the flight attendant now giving the standard safety speech. Harm looked at her in annoyance for a long moment before following suit. Mac smiled to herself, it was so easy to needle him sometimes.
The pair listened in silence to the flight attendant as she explained where all the exits were. After all the instructions were given the plane began taxiing, preparing for take off. Once in the air Mac looked over at Harm, “So what do we have so far?”
Harm grimaced, “Not much, Mac. Name of victim, Robert Webster, first lieutenant, USMC. Graduated from the Academy, top of his class. Went to work at Cheyenne Mountain after commissioning.”
“Doing what?”
Harm’s lips twisted wryly, “Deep space radar telemetry.”
Mac blinked, incredulous, “What?”
“That’s what it says. He worked at Cheyenne Mountain doing deep space radar telemetry.”
“You’re kidding. Kid graduates top of his class from the Academy then goes to work on radar telemetry?” Mac grabbed the file from Harm’s hand. He smirked in amusement as she perused the single page intently then looked around in confusion, flipping open the file folder after snatching that from Harm as well. “Ok, where’s the rest, Harm?”
“That’s all there is, Mac.”
She gazed at him in blatant disbelief, “You’re telling me the only info on this guy is name, rank, and job?”
“There’s also a note that he received a commendation for bravery last year.”
Mac glanced at the page again, pursing her lips in thought, “How do you get a commendation for bravery working at a mountain on radar?”
“Those space rocks are dangerous,” Harm joked. Mac gazed at him blandly, clearly not amused. Unrepentant, Harm flashed his trademark flyboy grin at her. After a moment Mac smiled back, unable to stay annoyed for long.
Focusing once more on the task at hand, Mac frowned slightly, “Do we have any info on the base?”
“Base?” Harm looked momentarily bewildered; forcibly switching his brain back into lawyer mode after it had been sidetracked teasing Mac.
His partner appeared not to notice his lapse, her attention still fixed on the file she continued to clutch, as if committing it to memory. “This Cheyenne Mountain base. I’m guessing it’s near the mountain itself, any relation with NORAD?”
“Actually, it’s supposedly a complex beneath the mountain.”
“Ah, so it’s part of NORAD?” Mac glanced over at him questioningly before returning her gaze to the file.
“Umm… no. As far as I can tell it has no association with NORAD.” Harm handed her another single sheet of paper, everything they had on the mountain complex. “It’s a military complex, beneath NORAD. Commanding officer is a General Jonathon O’Neill, USAF.”
“Air Force?” Mac looked startled, her head jerking up, eyes meeting Harm’s in puzzlement, “A joint base?”
“For lack of a better term, yes. Makes sense when you think about it, really,” Harm flashed a brief smile of apology for his rambling before continuing, “Located on the floors beneath NORAD, down to level 28. Do work on deep space radar telemetry and related topics.”
“Related topics? Like what?”
Harm shrugged, “Doesn’t say.”
“Riiight,” Mac practically radiated disbelief and annoyance, how were they supposed to get anything done if they had no information? “Do we have any other information on this case?”
“Not a whole lot. General O’Neill is a one star, promoted approximately six months ago. Former CO of the base was Major General, now Lieutenant General, George Hammond. General O’Neill is former special ops, resigned once, retired once. Twenty plus years of service, been working at Cheyenne Mountain for the past eight years.”
“Former special ops? What’s a special ops guy doing working on radar in a mountain??”
“Don’t know, Mac.”
“That’s all we have?”
“Yeah, we’ll supposedly get whatever other info we need upon arrival.”
“You mean what they think we need,” Mac stated sourly. Harm just grinned at her irritation then leaned back to enjoy the flight.
0700 MST Saturday
Jack O’Neill sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he stepped off the elevator on level 19. Glancing around briefly, he absently returned the greeting of a passing SF as he headed for Sam’s lab. Focused on his goal of speaking to the woman who had been his second-in-command for seven years he jerked to a stop at the closed door of the lab, staring at it in confusion. Frowning slightly he slid his key card through the reader, his puzzlement growing as he took in the darkened interior. After a moment the reason for this came to him and he mentally slapped himself, muttering, “D’oh!”
Turning on his heel he nearly plowed into Master Sergeant Harriman. Blinking, Jack took a second to regain his bearings, “Walter!”
Sgt. Harriman smiled slightly, “Yes, sir. Sir, Colonel Carter wanted to see you as soon as you arrived.”
“Well… I have arrived,” Jack drawled with his customary irreverence.
Walter nodded, still smiling faintly, “Yes, sir.”
Jack looked at him for a moment before asking, “Where is she?”
“Ah she’s in the briefing room, sir.”
“Oh. Wrong level, huh?”
“Yes, sir,” Walter nodded again, expression reflecting his amusement at his CO’s antics. Jack was a good leader but sometimes he was just a bit… off.
“Right. Well, I’ll just go… there,” nodding emphatically Jack turned again, careful to avoid running over the sergeant and headed back for the elevator, Walter on his heels. Hitting the down button he glanced over at the other man, “How’re things around here?”
“Not too bad, sir. Little crazy but manageable.”
“Good,” Jack stepped on the elevator when it arrived, absently holding the door for Walter to get on also. Punching the button for level 27 he spent the short trip staring thoughtfully at the elevator doors. Walter didn’t speak, content to be quiet and let the general think things through.
When the doors opened at their destination Jack stepped out, striding down the hall towards the briefing room. Sgt. Harriman paced him carefully to his left. Arriving at the briefing room Jack glanced around as he entered, spotting Sam poring over a stack of files. “Carter!”
Sam jumped, startled, before turning to look at him, “Sir, you’re here.”
“Yes… I am. What’s all this?” Jack waved a hand at the papers and folders.
“Just trying to figure out if there are any protocols for a situation like this, sir.”
“And?”
“Well, there is, but its standard procedures on a normal base and well… we are anything but that.”
“Very true,” Jack sighed. “Well you keep looking, I’m going to call the general, give him an update.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam nodded briefly before returning her attention to the files before her. Jack watched her for a moment before turning to his office. Closing the door behind him he flopped into his chair and sat staring out into the briefing room, chin propped on one hand. His gaze fixed on a point just beyond Sam as he brooded, trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say. Feeling eyes on her Sam looked up curiously, raising an eyebrow questioningly at Jack who waved her off absently, turning towards his desk and the phone that waited for him.
Taking a deep breath he picked it up, delay wasn’t going to help anything, “Yes, this is General O’Neill. I need to speak to General Hammond. Thank you.”
After a brief wait General Hammond picked up the phone, “Jack? What’s the situation?”
“Well, sir, I’ve been at the police station for the past four hours or so. They said there’s no sign of forced entry; they’re guessing it was someone he knew. Shot with his own service weapon; they took it to check for fingerprints. Colonel Reynolds is still down at the station trying to find out more.”
George sighed; it was Saturday, why couldn’t disasters have the courtesy to wait until the weekdays? “What do you think, Jack?”
“I’m recommending we keep all off world teams where they are for now unless they have to come back. All personnel in town stay in town and make themselves available for questioning. Gate operations were mostly over for the holidays over so it shouldn’t crimp anything too badly.”
George sighed again, nodding in agreement even though Jack couldn’t see him, “I agree. Any theories on what happened?”
“I don’t know, sir. I have a feeling we aren’t going to like it when we find out the truth, though.”
“No… probably not. Ok, do what you have to do, general.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh and Jack,” George added before the other man could hang up the phone.
“Yes, sir?”
“The uh, secretary of the Navy is sending two JAG officers to conduct an investigation, also.”
“What?!” Jack practically bolted out of his chair. Sam glanced over in surprise, hearing the muffled shout. She could see Jack now standing, apparently very unhappy about some news he’d just received, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was going on. Jack took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down a bit, retaking his seat, “Why, sir?”
“I don’t know, Jack. I think he’s getting suspicious about the mountain.”
“I see. So these officers don’t know anything about the SGC?”
“No, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I understand, sir. Is there anything else?”
“Not right now, you’ll let me know when you find out anything new?”
“Yes, sir. Goodbye, sir.”
“Goodbye, Jack.”
Jack hung up the phone then sat there staring at it for a long moment, just what he needed… lawyers. Sighing he buried his face in his hands. From her place at the briefing table Sam watched him in concern, warring with herself as to whether to check on him or not. Heaving a sigh she stood, walking slowly towards the office door. Hesitantly Sam knocked on the door, barely loud enough to be heard. Jack didn’t bother picking up his head, he just muttered, “Enter.”
Smiling slightly Sam pushed open the door. Closing it behind her she moved closer to the desk, peering at Jack curiously, “Sir?”
“Hey, Carter.”
Sam moved around to the front of the desk, sitting in a chair. Cocking her head to one side she studied her CO and friend for a long moment. Finally she spoke softly, not wanting to upset him, “Something wrong, general?”
Jack finally lifted his head to look at her. After a moment he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, “Two Navy JAG officers are coming out to do an investigation.”
Sam blinked, not sure if she’d heard him correctly, “Why would they be doing that?”
“Good question. But they don’t have clearance so we’ve all got to play by the cover story.”
A smile played around Sam’s lips as she remembered the first time that cover story had come up, “Deep space radar telemetry, sir?”
Jack’s trademark grin appeared, “It’s just so damn fascinating.”
Sam chuckled, “Yes, sir. So what are we going to do about everything else?”
“All off world teams are to stay put unless absolutely necessary. Personnel currently in town are to remain in town and available for questioning. I need you to take care of getting the word on that out, while I go… tell people they can’t come home yet.”
Sam gave him a sympathetic look as she stood, “Good luck, sir.”
“Gee thanks, Carter.”
Flashing a brief smile she turned and left the office through the opposite door she’d entered, hurrying down the hall to start calling people and get the ball rolling on the news. Jack watched her leave, continuing to gaze down the hall for a long moment after she was out of sight, lost in thought. Finally he stood, glancing absently at his watch as he prepared to go give people the bad news and start preparing for the next few days. One thing was for sure, nothing was ever dull around the SGC.
1017 MST Saturday
Mac and Harm exited the plane in Colorado Springs, briefcases and sea bags in hand. They both paused in the terminal, glancing around in confusion. The airport was mass chaos, a side effect of it being merely a week before Christmas. No one seemed to notice the two military officers standing stock still in the middle of the airport. Mac glanced up at Harm, brown eyes mirroring her confusion. Harm shrugged in silent response, he’d been certain someone would be meeting them at the airport; had been assured someone would meet them. Maybe with the rush and the murder they had forgotten to send someone?
He was just about to speak to Mac, suggest they find a phone, when a voice sounded behind them. “Commander Rabb? Colonel MacKenzie?”
The pair spun; Harm smiling inwardly as he recognized Mac’s jarhead instincts kicking in. He supposed he should be grateful she didn’t lash out at the young man who turned out to be an USAF first lieutenant. Once they were facing him he snapped to attention and saluted. Harm and Mac returned the salute, Mac answering his question, “That’s us, lieutenant. Oh, at ease,” she waved at him to relax not quite prepared for him to continue to stand at attention.
The young man smiled as he relaxed into parade rest, “I’m Lieutenant Grogan, ma’am, sir. Sorry I’m late, traffic is crazy.”
“Not a problem, lieutenant,” Harm flashed a grin at him before glancing at Mac, meeting her eyes briefly. Her gaze spoke eloquently to him, conveying her concern about the situation as well as her amusement at the earnest young lt.
Grogan took no notice of the silent exchange, continuing on, “If you’re ready, ma’am, sir, the general will want you at the mountain as soon as possible.”
“Lead on, lieutenant,” Mac replied, hoisting her sea bag.
“May I take your bags?” Grogan looked at the pair expectantly, holding out his hands for the two bags. Exchanging another glance with Mac, Harm shrugged and held out his bag to the lt. Mac followed suit, smiling faintly at his apparent enthusiasm for carrying luggage. “If you’ll just follow me,” Grogan turned and began weaving through the crowd, heading towards the exit. With a sigh Mac hefted her briefcase, heading after him, Harm close behind.
The crowd lightened up considerably once they reach the parking lot though the temperature dropped more than enough to compensate. Mac shivered, pulling her overcoat tighter. Harm looked down in concern, “Cold, Colonel?”
“I’m fine, Commander,” Mac smiled slightly, touched by his concern even if it was reflected in such an innocuous question.
Harm grinned back at her, “Just checking.” The lieutenant striding ahead of them appeared unfazed by the weather, to all appearances quite comfortable in blues and lightweight blue jacket. Fortunately it didn’t take too long to reach the vehicle waiting for them. Opening the back, Grogan set the two bags inside the blue Tahoe. Flashing a smile he walked around to the side, opening the back door for the two other officers. Harm and Mac gazed at each other for a moment, silently arguing with each other as to who should get in first. After a moment the lieutenant started growing uncomfortable, he had no idea what was going on, as far as he could tell the two officers he’d been ordered to pick up were just looking at each other with slight smiles playing around each person’s lips.
Finally the commander sighed and turned to get into the SUV. Mac’s eyes twinkled, “Why thank you, Commander.”
Harm just shot her a dirty look, causing her to laugh out loud as she climbed in after him. For his part Grogan just sighed in relief, he’d almost been afraid they would stand there forever. Either that or start arguing verbally. After checking that the colonel was clear of the door he closed it firmly and started for the driver’s door. Mac grinned over at Harm, who arched an eyebrow in return, “Never going to let me forget those few months are you?”
“Never, squid.” Harm couldn’t help but chuckle at her response though he stopped as her expression grew serious, “You know, he just doesn’t strike me as the radar type.”
Harm nodded in agreement as he fastened his seatbelt, “I know. There’s something weird going on here, Mac.”
Before Mac could reply Grogan opened the driver’s side door, climbing in quickly. Mac faced forward once again, glancing briefly at the lieutenant. Grogan glanced in the rear view mirror at them, “Comfortable, ma’am? Sir?”
“Uh, yeah,” Harm smiled briefly, relaxing back into the seat. “Nice ride.”
Mac rolled her eyes at Harm’s response. Grogan grinned at the superior officer, putting the Tahoe in gear, “We try. Next stop, Cheyenne Mountain.”
Fandom: Stargate SG-1/JAG crossover
Pairings: Sam/Jack, Harm/Mac
Rating: PG, guess it's possible it could be PG-13 later for violence
Timeline: Just before Christmas in Season 10 of JAG, and Season 8 of SG-1.
Summary: Living a life of lies can be tough, especially when those lies are not only given to the public to excuse ones job, but also told to yourself to hide your own feelings. When Harm and Mac get sent to Stargate Command to investigate the death of a marine, the members of the SGC have to live their lie just a little more convincingly. Right up until the point where things go wrong.
0200 MST Saturday
Brigadier General John “Jack” O’Neill grumbled irritably at the phone. “Oh for crying out loud. Who could possibly be calling at…” he glanced at the bedside clock, “Two a.m.?”
The phone’s only answer was to ring insistently once more. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.” Jack rolled over, muttering a few choice curses as the sheet tangled around his waist preventing him from moving freely. The phone rang shrilly once more as he snatched it from the cradle. “What!” Jack barked into the phone.
“Sir?”
“Carter? What the hell are you calling at such an hour for?”
“General, we have a problem, Lieutenant Webster has been murdered.”
“Webster? As in SG-3 Lt. Webster?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jack sighed, rubbing one hand tiredly through his hair, if it wasn’t one thing it was another. He sat up slightly, leaning one shoulder against the headboard. The room was still pitch black, only a sliver of moonlight illuminating a small portion of the floor through a gap in the curtains. Jack gazed through the small gap in the curtains, “Ok, I’ll head out to his house; you’ve already notified Colonel Reynolds?”
“Yes, sir, he’ll meet you there.”
“Good. I’ll head to base afterwards.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam hung up the base phone and sighed, staring at the receiver for a moment, it was going to be a long day.
Jack hit the “phone” button and half-heartedly glared at the receiver before dropping it back into the cradle. Swinging his legs around he stumbled out of bed, kicking the sheets out of the way when they tried to follow him to the floor. He didn’t bother with the lights, relying on the faint moonlight and his knowledge of the house to navigate him around the room safely.
Wide awake now as the news began to sink in Jack didn’t bother with a uniform, opting instead for khakis and a pullover. Sitting on the edge of the bed he tied on his black combat boots with the ease of long practice. Different thoughts vied for attention but the foremost was who the hell would murder a marine Lt? Unfortunately, he didn’t have the answer to that; he could only hope the cops would. Sighing he stood, wincing slightly as his knees creaked.
Jack made his way towards the front door, stopping briefly to grab his leather jacket and tug it on. Scooping up the keys to his truck from the counter he headed out into the early morning darkness.
0234 MST Saturday
Jack stopped his F-350 in front of the apartment building and sighed, studying the sea of flashing lights in front of him. He identified cops, EMS, and even a fire truck though he wasn’t sure what the latter was doing there. Almost before he’d registered the presence of the various vehicles an officer was at his door, tapping lightly on the window. Sighing once more Jack turned off the truck and stepped out, absently pulling his jacket slightly closer.
“Excuse me, sir. This area is off limits,” the officer spoke quietly, apologetic yet firm.
“I’m General Jack O’Neill, Lt. Webster was one of my officers,” Jack flashed his military ID at the officer.
The other man looked momentarily puzzled, “But the Lt.’s commanding officer is already here, a Colonel Reynolds, sir.”
“Yeah, I know. Colonel Reynolds was Webster’s immediate superior,” Jack didn’t get a chance to explain further before a shout rang out from the general direction of the building. Looking over Jack spotted a tired looking Colonel Reynolds, also in civilian clothing, heading towards him.
“General!” Reynolds strode up, nodding absently to the officer, “Officer Scott, if you’ll excuse us.”
Officer Scott nodded and turned away, shrugging off the oddity of the two high ranking military officer’s presence and started back towards the small congregation of officers near the front steps. “So what happened, Reynolds? Marines just don’t randomly get murdered.”
Reynolds sighed heavily, combing his fingers back through his hair in a motion of frustration, “I don’t know, sir.”
“You don’t know?”
“The only recently let me onto the crime scene, had to pull some rank as the kid’s CO to do it. Even then they only let me look over the police tape across the door. Place is a wreck, sir. Lt. Webster’s service weapon is on the floor next to a rather large pool of blood. Apparently they’re waiting for the rest of the CSI team before they touch anything but the body.”
“They have no clue what happened then?”
“Not really, they…” Reynolds trailed off as a police inspector walked up. Both men looked at the newcomer expectantly, hoping for more information on the situation.
“Colonel Reynolds?” Reynolds nodded slightly in acknowledgement then the inspector shot a puzzled look at Jack, “And you are?”
“General Jack O’Neill.”
“Ah, I’m Inspector Williams. The forensics people have arrived, they’re looking over the scene now. We should have more information for you in a few hours. Who were the last people to see Lt. Webster?”
“That would be us, Inspector,” Jack answered.
“And what time was that?”
Jack glanced at Reynolds for a moment, “Three hours ago was it, Reynolds?”
“Three and a half now, sir.”
“Right. Yeah we uh, last saw the Lt. at approximately 2300.”
The Inspector blinked in confusion, after a brief moment his expression cleared, “Ah yes, eleven pm.”
Jack smiled faintly, “Yes, sir, eleven pm.”
0500 EST Saturday
Lieutenant Colonel Sarah “Mac” MacKenzie jogged slowly through the park, lost in thought. Recent events played through her mind slowly, as if a video in slow motion. She didn’t know what to think anymore. So much had happened in the past months, first Clay being dead, then Clay not being dead, then everything with Harm, the new JAG, everything with Harm… some days it made her want to scream. It all came back to her and Harm’s relationship it seemed, or lack thereof depending on the day and time. Sturgis was right; they did seem to be a black hole that sucked everything around them in.
Mac sighed, jogging steadily onward in the pre-dawn light. It was crazy to be out jogging this early, especially so late in the year but she’d been unable to sleep and next thing she knew she was out running. Some days she wished she could just run away from her life, but then reality would sink in and she’s realize that even if she could, she wouldn’t. The morning was dawning, clear and cold, a crystal blue sky without a cloud in sight. It would be a gorgeous day, though the temperature was dropping.
The park was quiet; it was too early yet for most people to be awake, much less out of bed, on a Saturday. Idly she wondered if Harm was up yet, probably not unless he’d never gone to bed. Almost as if her thought had conjured him, her cell phone rang. Stopping next to a nearby bench, Mac pulled the cell from her pocket, flipping it open, “MacKenzie.”
“Hey, Mac.”
“Harm! What are you doing up so early?” She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips at the sound of his voice.
“Could ask you the same question, but I imagine your reason is better than mine,” he could tell from her tone that he hadn’t woken her.
Mac chuckled softly, “I wouldn’t count on it, but it would depend on your answer.”
“The general just called me, Mac.”
“The general? Why would he be calling on a Saturday?” Mac was puzzled but she had a sinking feeling she knew why the JAG would be calling a JAG officer so early, especially on a weekend.
Harm sighed heavily at the other end of the line, Mac could see clearly in her mind his resigned expression, “A marine was just murdered.”
“Just?” Mac felt the breath leave her in a rush, who was this marine that prompted such a quick response? Without realizing it she sat down on the bench, a small part of her mind praising her good sense for stopping where she did.
“They put time of death at 0130-“
“That was over three hours ago,” Mac interjected.
“Mountain time,” Harm finished. “He was killed in Colorado Springs.”
“Oh. So why were you called?”
“General Cresswell wants us to go conduct a JAG investigation in parallel with the police investigation. Though I got the impression that was more someone else’s idea than his,” Harm smiled briefly at his end of the line, recalling the general’s annoyance when he called earlier.
Mac grinned also, she could just imagine whose idea it was, “SecNav?”
“The general didn’t say so but I get that impression. Also, if necessary we are to provide legal counsel.”
“We? As in you and me?”
“Yeah, I told the general I’d take care of informing you; let him enjoy the rest of his Saturday.”
Mac sighed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she had a feeling it was going to be a long weekend. “When do we leave?”
“One hour, from Dulles. Hope you have a bag packed, marine.”
“Always, squid. See you at the airport,” Mac hung up and sat staring at the cell for a moment, she had a bad feeling about this. Unfortunately, sitting at the park wasn’t going to help get her to the airport in time. Standing, Mac tucked the phone back into her pocket and headed towards her car. Fortunately she’d been near the end of the run anyways.
0600 EST Saturday
Commander Harmon “Harm” Rabb, Jr. strode through the terminal, ignoring the curious glances of fellow airport patrons. He knew he looked a bit out of place in his Navy blues but then again, you’d think people would be used to seeing military personnel by now. Ah well, wasn’t his concern; his thoughts drifted back to what he knew about the case which was, quite simply, almost nothing. The marine had been killed in his home, time of death was approximately 0130 and there was no sign of forced entry. The only other information they had was name, rank, base, and job. Harm sighed; the powers that be weren’t going to make this easy were they?
Glancing upward he realized he’d reached his gate. He looked around briefly for Mac but his partner was no where in sight. Shrugging to himself he headed for the desk by the gate, Mac would get there in time if she wasn’t already on the plane; he had no doubts about that. Flashing a brief smile he handed his ticket over to the woman waiting for it. Harm glanced out the window overlooking the runways, watching a plane taxi past. Looking back to the ticket checker he smiled at her absently, only half-noticing her flirtatious smile in return. She seemed about to speak when another voice intervened, “You beat me, commander.”
Harm turned to Mac, the smile blossoming into a full blown flyboy grin, “Guess you’re just a bit slow today, marine.”
Mac grinned in return, unable to help herself. She would swear he’d patented that grin; no one else had the ability to make her melt with just a smile; not that she’d ever admit that to anyone. Stepping up beside her partner she handed the attendant her ticket, flashing a smile at the other woman. For his part Harm was still watching Mac, the grin still in place. As a result only Mac noticed the look of jealousy cross the woman’s face. Smiling internally she reclaimed Harm’s and her own tickets. Handing his ticket to him she commented in a tone of voice hinting at lingering amusement, “Come on, flyboy, they aren’t going to wait on us forever.”
“After you, Mac,” Harm held out an arm indicating she should precede him. Still smiling she headed into the tunnel connecting the plane to the terminal. Harm followed, surreptitiously admiring her in her marine greens. Mac glanced over her shoulder at him, commenting mischievously, “She was cute.”
Harm blinked, his train of thought derailing. Focusing on what Mac has just said he asked in bewilderment, “Who?”
“The woman who took our tickets. She seemed to think you were cute too.”
“No, she didn’t.”
Mac laughed, “You are so oblivious, Harm.”
“Oblivious to what?” When she merely entered the plane instead of answering he groaned mentally, she wasn’t going to be very cooperative he could tell. Rather, she was going to enjoy tormenting him. Yet, despite the little voice in his head warning against it, he persisted, “To what, Mac?”
Nearly smirking she waited for him to take his window seat before claiming the seat next to his, murmuring an apology to the man on the aisle, “Forget it, Harm.”
“Mac…” his voice trailed off warningly.
Instead of taking the hint she just laughed before directing her attention pointedly to the flight attendant now giving the standard safety speech. Harm looked at her in annoyance for a long moment before following suit. Mac smiled to herself, it was so easy to needle him sometimes.
The pair listened in silence to the flight attendant as she explained where all the exits were. After all the instructions were given the plane began taxiing, preparing for take off. Once in the air Mac looked over at Harm, “So what do we have so far?”
Harm grimaced, “Not much, Mac. Name of victim, Robert Webster, first lieutenant, USMC. Graduated from the Academy, top of his class. Went to work at Cheyenne Mountain after commissioning.”
“Doing what?”
Harm’s lips twisted wryly, “Deep space radar telemetry.”
Mac blinked, incredulous, “What?”
“That’s what it says. He worked at Cheyenne Mountain doing deep space radar telemetry.”
“You’re kidding. Kid graduates top of his class from the Academy then goes to work on radar telemetry?” Mac grabbed the file from Harm’s hand. He smirked in amusement as she perused the single page intently then looked around in confusion, flipping open the file folder after snatching that from Harm as well. “Ok, where’s the rest, Harm?”
“That’s all there is, Mac.”
She gazed at him in blatant disbelief, “You’re telling me the only info on this guy is name, rank, and job?”
“There’s also a note that he received a commendation for bravery last year.”
Mac glanced at the page again, pursing her lips in thought, “How do you get a commendation for bravery working at a mountain on radar?”
“Those space rocks are dangerous,” Harm joked. Mac gazed at him blandly, clearly not amused. Unrepentant, Harm flashed his trademark flyboy grin at her. After a moment Mac smiled back, unable to stay annoyed for long.
Focusing once more on the task at hand, Mac frowned slightly, “Do we have any info on the base?”
“Base?” Harm looked momentarily bewildered; forcibly switching his brain back into lawyer mode after it had been sidetracked teasing Mac.
His partner appeared not to notice his lapse, her attention still fixed on the file she continued to clutch, as if committing it to memory. “This Cheyenne Mountain base. I’m guessing it’s near the mountain itself, any relation with NORAD?”
“Actually, it’s supposedly a complex beneath the mountain.”
“Ah, so it’s part of NORAD?” Mac glanced over at him questioningly before returning her gaze to the file.
“Umm… no. As far as I can tell it has no association with NORAD.” Harm handed her another single sheet of paper, everything they had on the mountain complex. “It’s a military complex, beneath NORAD. Commanding officer is a General Jonathon O’Neill, USAF.”
“Air Force?” Mac looked startled, her head jerking up, eyes meeting Harm’s in puzzlement, “A joint base?”
“For lack of a better term, yes. Makes sense when you think about it, really,” Harm flashed a brief smile of apology for his rambling before continuing, “Located on the floors beneath NORAD, down to level 28. Do work on deep space radar telemetry and related topics.”
“Related topics? Like what?”
Harm shrugged, “Doesn’t say.”
“Riiight,” Mac practically radiated disbelief and annoyance, how were they supposed to get anything done if they had no information? “Do we have any other information on this case?”
“Not a whole lot. General O’Neill is a one star, promoted approximately six months ago. Former CO of the base was Major General, now Lieutenant General, George Hammond. General O’Neill is former special ops, resigned once, retired once. Twenty plus years of service, been working at Cheyenne Mountain for the past eight years.”
“Former special ops? What’s a special ops guy doing working on radar in a mountain??”
“Don’t know, Mac.”
“That’s all we have?”
“Yeah, we’ll supposedly get whatever other info we need upon arrival.”
“You mean what they think we need,” Mac stated sourly. Harm just grinned at her irritation then leaned back to enjoy the flight.
0700 MST Saturday
Jack O’Neill sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he stepped off the elevator on level 19. Glancing around briefly, he absently returned the greeting of a passing SF as he headed for Sam’s lab. Focused on his goal of speaking to the woman who had been his second-in-command for seven years he jerked to a stop at the closed door of the lab, staring at it in confusion. Frowning slightly he slid his key card through the reader, his puzzlement growing as he took in the darkened interior. After a moment the reason for this came to him and he mentally slapped himself, muttering, “D’oh!”
Turning on his heel he nearly plowed into Master Sergeant Harriman. Blinking, Jack took a second to regain his bearings, “Walter!”
Sgt. Harriman smiled slightly, “Yes, sir. Sir, Colonel Carter wanted to see you as soon as you arrived.”
“Well… I have arrived,” Jack drawled with his customary irreverence.
Walter nodded, still smiling faintly, “Yes, sir.”
Jack looked at him for a moment before asking, “Where is she?”
“Ah she’s in the briefing room, sir.”
“Oh. Wrong level, huh?”
“Yes, sir,” Walter nodded again, expression reflecting his amusement at his CO’s antics. Jack was a good leader but sometimes he was just a bit… off.
“Right. Well, I’ll just go… there,” nodding emphatically Jack turned again, careful to avoid running over the sergeant and headed back for the elevator, Walter on his heels. Hitting the down button he glanced over at the other man, “How’re things around here?”
“Not too bad, sir. Little crazy but manageable.”
“Good,” Jack stepped on the elevator when it arrived, absently holding the door for Walter to get on also. Punching the button for level 27 he spent the short trip staring thoughtfully at the elevator doors. Walter didn’t speak, content to be quiet and let the general think things through.
When the doors opened at their destination Jack stepped out, striding down the hall towards the briefing room. Sgt. Harriman paced him carefully to his left. Arriving at the briefing room Jack glanced around as he entered, spotting Sam poring over a stack of files. “Carter!”
Sam jumped, startled, before turning to look at him, “Sir, you’re here.”
“Yes… I am. What’s all this?” Jack waved a hand at the papers and folders.
“Just trying to figure out if there are any protocols for a situation like this, sir.”
“And?”
“Well, there is, but its standard procedures on a normal base and well… we are anything but that.”
“Very true,” Jack sighed. “Well you keep looking, I’m going to call the general, give him an update.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam nodded briefly before returning her attention to the files before her. Jack watched her for a moment before turning to his office. Closing the door behind him he flopped into his chair and sat staring out into the briefing room, chin propped on one hand. His gaze fixed on a point just beyond Sam as he brooded, trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say. Feeling eyes on her Sam looked up curiously, raising an eyebrow questioningly at Jack who waved her off absently, turning towards his desk and the phone that waited for him.
Taking a deep breath he picked it up, delay wasn’t going to help anything, “Yes, this is General O’Neill. I need to speak to General Hammond. Thank you.”
After a brief wait General Hammond picked up the phone, “Jack? What’s the situation?”
“Well, sir, I’ve been at the police station for the past four hours or so. They said there’s no sign of forced entry; they’re guessing it was someone he knew. Shot with his own service weapon; they took it to check for fingerprints. Colonel Reynolds is still down at the station trying to find out more.”
George sighed; it was Saturday, why couldn’t disasters have the courtesy to wait until the weekdays? “What do you think, Jack?”
“I’m recommending we keep all off world teams where they are for now unless they have to come back. All personnel in town stay in town and make themselves available for questioning. Gate operations were mostly over for the holidays over so it shouldn’t crimp anything too badly.”
George sighed again, nodding in agreement even though Jack couldn’t see him, “I agree. Any theories on what happened?”
“I don’t know, sir. I have a feeling we aren’t going to like it when we find out the truth, though.”
“No… probably not. Ok, do what you have to do, general.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh and Jack,” George added before the other man could hang up the phone.
“Yes, sir?”
“The uh, secretary of the Navy is sending two JAG officers to conduct an investigation, also.”
“What?!” Jack practically bolted out of his chair. Sam glanced over in surprise, hearing the muffled shout. She could see Jack now standing, apparently very unhappy about some news he’d just received, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was going on. Jack took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down a bit, retaking his seat, “Why, sir?”
“I don’t know, Jack. I think he’s getting suspicious about the mountain.”
“I see. So these officers don’t know anything about the SGC?”
“No, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I understand, sir. Is there anything else?”
“Not right now, you’ll let me know when you find out anything new?”
“Yes, sir. Goodbye, sir.”
“Goodbye, Jack.”
Jack hung up the phone then sat there staring at it for a long moment, just what he needed… lawyers. Sighing he buried his face in his hands. From her place at the briefing table Sam watched him in concern, warring with herself as to whether to check on him or not. Heaving a sigh she stood, walking slowly towards the office door. Hesitantly Sam knocked on the door, barely loud enough to be heard. Jack didn’t bother picking up his head, he just muttered, “Enter.”
Smiling slightly Sam pushed open the door. Closing it behind her she moved closer to the desk, peering at Jack curiously, “Sir?”
“Hey, Carter.”
Sam moved around to the front of the desk, sitting in a chair. Cocking her head to one side she studied her CO and friend for a long moment. Finally she spoke softly, not wanting to upset him, “Something wrong, general?”
Jack finally lifted his head to look at her. After a moment he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, “Two Navy JAG officers are coming out to do an investigation.”
Sam blinked, not sure if she’d heard him correctly, “Why would they be doing that?”
“Good question. But they don’t have clearance so we’ve all got to play by the cover story.”
A smile played around Sam’s lips as she remembered the first time that cover story had come up, “Deep space radar telemetry, sir?”
Jack’s trademark grin appeared, “It’s just so damn fascinating.”
Sam chuckled, “Yes, sir. So what are we going to do about everything else?”
“All off world teams are to stay put unless absolutely necessary. Personnel currently in town are to remain in town and available for questioning. I need you to take care of getting the word on that out, while I go… tell people they can’t come home yet.”
Sam gave him a sympathetic look as she stood, “Good luck, sir.”
“Gee thanks, Carter.”
Flashing a brief smile she turned and left the office through the opposite door she’d entered, hurrying down the hall to start calling people and get the ball rolling on the news. Jack watched her leave, continuing to gaze down the hall for a long moment after she was out of sight, lost in thought. Finally he stood, glancing absently at his watch as he prepared to go give people the bad news and start preparing for the next few days. One thing was for sure, nothing was ever dull around the SGC.
1017 MST Saturday
Mac and Harm exited the plane in Colorado Springs, briefcases and sea bags in hand. They both paused in the terminal, glancing around in confusion. The airport was mass chaos, a side effect of it being merely a week before Christmas. No one seemed to notice the two military officers standing stock still in the middle of the airport. Mac glanced up at Harm, brown eyes mirroring her confusion. Harm shrugged in silent response, he’d been certain someone would be meeting them at the airport; had been assured someone would meet them. Maybe with the rush and the murder they had forgotten to send someone?
He was just about to speak to Mac, suggest they find a phone, when a voice sounded behind them. “Commander Rabb? Colonel MacKenzie?”
The pair spun; Harm smiling inwardly as he recognized Mac’s jarhead instincts kicking in. He supposed he should be grateful she didn’t lash out at the young man who turned out to be an USAF first lieutenant. Once they were facing him he snapped to attention and saluted. Harm and Mac returned the salute, Mac answering his question, “That’s us, lieutenant. Oh, at ease,” she waved at him to relax not quite prepared for him to continue to stand at attention.
The young man smiled as he relaxed into parade rest, “I’m Lieutenant Grogan, ma’am, sir. Sorry I’m late, traffic is crazy.”
“Not a problem, lieutenant,” Harm flashed a grin at him before glancing at Mac, meeting her eyes briefly. Her gaze spoke eloquently to him, conveying her concern about the situation as well as her amusement at the earnest young lt.
Grogan took no notice of the silent exchange, continuing on, “If you’re ready, ma’am, sir, the general will want you at the mountain as soon as possible.”
“Lead on, lieutenant,” Mac replied, hoisting her sea bag.
“May I take your bags?” Grogan looked at the pair expectantly, holding out his hands for the two bags. Exchanging another glance with Mac, Harm shrugged and held out his bag to the lt. Mac followed suit, smiling faintly at his apparent enthusiasm for carrying luggage. “If you’ll just follow me,” Grogan turned and began weaving through the crowd, heading towards the exit. With a sigh Mac hefted her briefcase, heading after him, Harm close behind.
The crowd lightened up considerably once they reach the parking lot though the temperature dropped more than enough to compensate. Mac shivered, pulling her overcoat tighter. Harm looked down in concern, “Cold, Colonel?”
“I’m fine, Commander,” Mac smiled slightly, touched by his concern even if it was reflected in such an innocuous question.
Harm grinned back at her, “Just checking.” The lieutenant striding ahead of them appeared unfazed by the weather, to all appearances quite comfortable in blues and lightweight blue jacket. Fortunately it didn’t take too long to reach the vehicle waiting for them. Opening the back, Grogan set the two bags inside the blue Tahoe. Flashing a smile he walked around to the side, opening the back door for the two other officers. Harm and Mac gazed at each other for a moment, silently arguing with each other as to who should get in first. After a moment the lieutenant started growing uncomfortable, he had no idea what was going on, as far as he could tell the two officers he’d been ordered to pick up were just looking at each other with slight smiles playing around each person’s lips.
Finally the commander sighed and turned to get into the SUV. Mac’s eyes twinkled, “Why thank you, Commander.”
Harm just shot her a dirty look, causing her to laugh out loud as she climbed in after him. For his part Grogan just sighed in relief, he’d almost been afraid they would stand there forever. Either that or start arguing verbally. After checking that the colonel was clear of the door he closed it firmly and started for the driver’s door. Mac grinned over at Harm, who arched an eyebrow in return, “Never going to let me forget those few months are you?”
“Never, squid.” Harm couldn’t help but chuckle at her response though he stopped as her expression grew serious, “You know, he just doesn’t strike me as the radar type.”
Harm nodded in agreement as he fastened his seatbelt, “I know. There’s something weird going on here, Mac.”
Before Mac could reply Grogan opened the driver’s side door, climbing in quickly. Mac faced forward once again, glancing briefly at the lieutenant. Grogan glanced in the rear view mirror at them, “Comfortable, ma’am? Sir?”
“Uh, yeah,” Harm smiled briefly, relaxing back into the seat. “Nice ride.”
Mac rolled her eyes at Harm’s response. Grogan grinned at the superior officer, putting the Tahoe in gear, “We try. Next stop, Cheyenne Mountain.”