Chapter 1A

Wednesday, 11 June 03
1100 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Admiral AJ Chegwidden pulled the large Escalade into his usual parking space, gathered his briefcase and started toward the entrance to JAG all while pondering his latest meeting with the SecNav. Intruding into his unpleasant thoughts was the sound of a Helo hovering a few feet over the small grass field next to the brick building. AJ watched as a soldier threw a gear bag to the ground and jumped after it holding on to a case of some kind.

Entering JAG, AJ nodded to the guard at the door and proceeded to the desk to sign back into the building. Just as the Lance Corporal was preparing to run the metal detection wand over his person the soldier entered the building and approached the desk.

Whatever branch of the military this soldier belonged to was indeterminate. He was dressed from head to toe in desert fatigues, his boots mud encrusted. The face hidden under the floppy tan cover was coated liberally in a patchwork design of camo paint designed to blend in with the desert terrain but it couldn't hide the startling emerald green eyes.

The soldier set the black gear bag on the ground and slung over his shoulder what looked like a rifle sock.

The voice, gravelly from disuse, rasped out, "Lance Corporal."

"Sir. What can I do for you, Sir?" Those eyes reminded the Lance Corporal of the rattlesnakes back home just before they struck. It was eerie to see such eyes in a person.

"I'm here to see Colonel MacKenzie."

"Do you have an appointment with the Colonel, Sir?" Please say yes, the young man prayed to himself. He didn't want to turn the man away, not with eyes like those staring through him.

"I was told the Colonel would make time to see me, Lance Corporal, since I was unaware of what time I would arrive."

AJ watched the man talking to the Lance Corporal and wondered which case Mac was working on that involved an active duty soldier. He couldn't think of one. This soldier whoever he was, was growing impatient, AJ could smell it.

"If you'll give me your name, Sir, I'll call up to the Colonel and let her know you're here." The Lance Corporal picked up the phone and was ready to dial the Colonel's direct extension if necessary.

"Please tell her Colonel Merriweather is here, as requested."

AJ watched, while he waited for the elevator. He usually took the stairs, but he was curious as to who this Colonel was. The lack of any kind of identifying insignia intrigued him.

"Colonel, Colonel MacKenzie is with a client right now. She said that the soonest she would be available would be in thirty minutes." The Corporal was already making out a visitor's pass since the Colonel didn't have any identifying insignia.

"That's fine Lance Corporal. If you'll be kind enough to point me in the direction of the Locker Rooms, I'll make myself presentable for public viewing. And you'll need to stow this for me in a weapons locker." Colonel Merriweather hoisted the rifle sock and handed it to the Lance Corporal.

"Of course Sir, I'll put it in weapons locker number five. After you're cleaned up, Sir, if you'd like we'll stow your gear bag as well while you visit Colonel MacKenzie." The Lance Corporal gave directions to the Locker Rooms and was glad when the Colonel left his presence. There was just something about the Colonel that just didn't sit right with him. Admiral Chegwidden had been standing near the elevators trying to look surreptitious during the entire exchange.

Wednesday, 11 June 03
1120 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Petty Officer Jennifer Coates watched the woman enter the bullpen from the stair well at the end of the hall. She moved quietly, like a cat, with stealth and grace that looked innate and natural.

Her copper hair was pulled back and fashioned into a complicated braid at the back of her head, the length indefinite with the tail of the braid wrapped in a bun leaving her face unsoftened by any tendrils. She wore little make up, if any, but that didn't detract from her cold emerald eyes. There was no flash of any kind of jewelry, not even a watch.

The woman was dressed all in black; from her long sleeve t-shirt to some kind of strange baggy pants with all kinds of pockets and black combat boots without a shine. The only splash of color in her clothing came from the red visitor's badge pinned to a belt loop.

"Can I help you Ma'am?" Coates asked hesitantly as she walked closer. The temperature seemed colder around this woman, as if the air froze simply because it was viewed by her expressionless eyes.

"I'm here to see Colonel MacKenzie. I was told she would be available at 1130."

"She's in the conference room now, Ma'am, with a client. I would be happy to show you to her office where you could wait." Coates gestured ahead of herself and with the woman preceding her Coates guided her to the Colonel's office.

"Thank you Petty Officer." Merriweather allowed herself to be guided to an office with a cluttered desk.

"Is there anything I can get you Ma'am?" Coates asked nervously.

"A coffee would be helpful Petty Officer, black." Merriweather situated her stiff body into a hard wooden chair. No matter that she'd stood under the spray of a scalding hot shower for more than ten minutes, every muscle in her five foot three inch body was screaming tired.

"Yes Ma'am. I'll get that for you right away." Coates backed out of the Colonel's office and scurried into the break room.

Commander Turner was just leaving the break room himself with a refilled coffee mug of his own as Coates walked in the room. When she checked the pot of coffee, there was only that last layer left that she'd heard everyone say tasted bitter.

Jennifer Coates didn't much like coffee.

Maybe the Colonel wouldn't mind waiting for a new pot to brew? No, Coates thought, better take her what was available.

With a mug of steaming coffee, Coates entered the Colonel's office saying, "Colonel MacKenzie shouldn't be much longer, Ma'am," before beating a hasty retreat.

It was at exactly 1130 that Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, USMC entered her office to see a black clad woman with flaming copper hair sitting in her guest chair. This was her expert? Mac thought. This is the person who would exonerate her client? Everything she'd heard over the years about the Colonel made her think she would look different, not so petite.

"Colonel Merriweather?" Mac asked warily as she entered her office, prepared to hold out her hand in greeting until she saw the Colonel's countenance. My DI never looked so formidable, Mac thought.

Standing she asked, "Yes, Colonel MacKenzie?" looking at the lawyer before her. She'd expected to see a squared away Marine from the descriptions of her but Merriweather was impressed with the confident woman before her that was coolly composed but friendly all at once.

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you for coming on such short notice, it's appreciated." Mac regarded the officer before her and wondered at her stillness, her utter lack of unnecessary movement.

"You said that your client was accused of murder, and that he said he was innocent. You believe him to be innocent, Colonel?" Merriweather asked, curious of her answer.

"Yes, Ma'am, I do think he's been falsely accused. My trouble is proving it. I've tried several things, several tactics, but I'm thinking his best chance is with your assessment of the case, Ma'am." Mac indicated her empty coffee cup and said, "Would you like to get another cup of coffee on our way to the library? I have everything set up in there. More room to spread out."

"Yes, Colonel, another cup of coffee would help." Merriweather said, stifling a yawn.

Mac noticed and as they entered the empty break room offered, "Ma'am, I understood your CO to say that you were coming straight from a mission."

Merriweather didn't answer; she didn't so much as blink as if that would give something away.

Mac backpedaled, thinking she'd offended a superior officer. "What I meant was that maybe you were hungry as well. I'm sure there are some doughnuts left if you're interested."

Admiral Chegwidden approached the break room in his usual quiet manner but when he heard Mac talking to someone inside, he stopped to listen. She was acting as though she were talking to a four star general.

"Thanks, Colonel, but if you want me coherent for this eval, I think I'll skip the sugar high. The coffee will help for now, if it wasn't made for a bunch of toddlers." Merriweather groused, her nose picking up a faint scent that didn't smell like a woman's perfume.

Confused, Mac asked, "Toddlers, Ma'am?"

Merriweather looked at her hard and said, "Colonel, you're a Marine, tell me you drink this watered down stuff the Petty Officer referred to as coffee?"

Mac chuckled, finally finding some common ground with the cool red head. "No, Ma'am. I make coffee much stronger; most in this office can't drink it." Mac reached for the pot she shared with the Admiral, its color was significantly darker than the other pot of regular coffee. The pot of decaf that Harriet made looked like tea compared to this.

"Try this coffee, Ma'am. Admiral Chegwidden made it earlier." Mac poured a mug for the Colonel.

Taking a cautious sip, her ears tuned in to a soft sound she couldn't place, Merriweather hummed her approval. "The Admiral must be a SeAL."

Startled Mac asked, "What makes you say that Ma'am?"

"Only Navy men I know that could drink coffee even close to being this strong."

"Yes, Ma'am, Admiral Chegwidden is an ex-SeAL." She was surprised at the Colonel's perception. Did she know that the JAG used to be a SeAL or did she guess?

"Nothing ex about being a SeAL, Colonel. Once a SeAL, always a SeAL. Right Admiral?" Colonel Merriweather asked in a slightly raised voice, still looking at Mac.

Admiral Chegwidden walked into the break room, a slightly surprised look on his face and warily said, "Right."

Looking at the two senior officers, Mac wondered how the Colonel knew the Admiral was outside the break room. "Admiral, I'd like you to meet Colonel JC Merriweather, USMC. She'll be helping with Lt. Commander Jenkins Article 32. Colonel this is my CO, Admiral AJ Chegwidden." Mac made the introductions carefully, aware of protocol.

"A pleasure to meet you Admiral." JC Merriweather extended her hand in greeting and was surprised at the small tingle she felt as it was clasped by a much larger calloused hand.

"Likewise, Colonel. I see Mac is sharing my coffee with another Marine." AJ looked at Mac, his eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Sir. She was kind enough not to make me drink that watered down tea that a Petty Officer brought me earlier and tried to pass off as coffee." JC leaned against the counter facing the Admiral, sipping her coffee, as he leaned against the fridge, Mac closest to the coffee pots.

"Colonel, how did you know the Admiral was standing outside the break room?" Mac asked, no longer able to contain her curiosity.

"Instinct." JC replied.

Intrigued by her response AJ asked, "Tell me something, Mac introduced you as a Colonel, is that right? You don't look quite old enough to be a Lieutenant Colonel let alone to have your Eagles."

Mac held her breath, she recognized that tone of voice from the Admiral, it was one that asked a question but ordered you to answer.

"I've had my Eagles for a while, Admiral," was all JC replied. She stared the Admiral right in the eye while daring him to comment.

Mac swallowed hard, seeing the battle of wills right in front of her and wondering who would be the victor.

"I heard Mac offer you doughnuts, Colonel. You have something against them? Harriet made a fresh batch this morning and they turned out perfectly. I recommend them." AJ poured his coffee, still watching her from the corner of his eye. The way she moved, or rather didn't move reminded him of the soldier in the lobby downstairs. It couldn't be though; he'd been right off the line.

"I love doughnuts, Admiral, and homemade are just wonderful, but I'm running on empty and don't want to crash after a sugar high." JC mourned the granola in her gear bag. She should have brought some with her.

"The Colonel was kind enough to come straight to JAG from a mission." Mac informed her CO.

"Actually, I came from a de-briefing, but it was short." JC replied, thinking of the ten minutes she spent on the phone in the Helo talking to her CO advising him that the mission was a success.

"Well, in that case, Colonel," AJ reached into the high cabinets above the fridge.

Mac and JC stared at the Admiral's six and appreciated the view and then caught each other staring. Mac grinned at the Colonel while JC winked at Mac.

"Here you are Colonel." AJ handed JC two Harvest Power Bars.

"Thank you, Sir. I appreciate this." JC responded. "I was just thinking that, though the granola in my gear bag is likely nothing but crumbs, I would be grateful for it now." She thought of how she dropped her bag into the field, twenty pounds of gear would have made powder out of her granola.

"Well as you said, Colonel. Nothing ex about being a SeAL." AJ walked from the break room.

Mac didn't understand that comment, but JC did. SeAL's share everything.

They followed the Admiral out of the break room and just as they were going to reenter the bullpen AJ stated, "Colonel that was you dropping from the Helo."

"Yes, Sir." JC responded straight-faced.

"Carry on." AJ responded before walking toward his office.

JC followed Mac to the library and upon entering saw stacks of paperwork littering the tabletop. She may be a squared away Marine, but she apparently was able to work amid clutter.

"I was able to get all the information you requested, Colonel, including the pictures of the crime scene."

"Good." JC sat down at the head of the table and immediately opened an Oatmeal Raisin Power Bar. As hungry as she was, she knew better than to eat too fast.

"What would you like to start with?" Mac asked as Harm walked in.

"The Commander's service record." JC stated emphatically as she heard a tall man, mid to late thirties walk in the room. Without looking up, she could tell he was a pilot just by his arrogant walk.

"Mac! I thought we were done with the investigation."

"No, Harm, you decided that Lt. Commander Jenkins was guilty and didn't want to further the investigation, but something was bothering me so I'm having it checked out." Mac found the service record and handed it to the Colonel.

"Mac, come on, the Commander threatened his brother two days before he died. That sounds strange to me." Harm sat in the seat next to a black clad woman with red hair.

JC looked up and confirmed that he was indeed a pilot. So predictable, she thought. "Listen, Stick Boy, just because you threaten someone doesn't mean that automatically you're the one that's guilty of murder. Colonel, the crime scene photos next, please." JC stated emphatically, after reading through Commander Ralph Jenkins service record. It was clean as a whistle.

"I beg your pardon?" Harm asked in a silky voice.

"Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. This is Colonel JC Merriweather; she's an expert in Forensic Firearm Identification. Colonel, Commander Rabb is my co-counsel in this investigation." Mac shuffled through her files to find photos.

"Nice to meet you Commander. I hope if I ever need legal counsel you'll be more willing to give me the benefit of the doubt instead of letting the murder victim's job within the military blind you."

"What?" Harm asked, affronted.

JC took the photos and studied each one reading the notes on the back. "I mean, Commander, that the murder victim, Jenkins brother, a First Lieutenant Tom Jenkins, was a fighter pilot for the Marine Corp. He flew Hornets, you flew Tomcats." JC stared right at Rabb, directly in the eyes and let the full force of her stare intimidate him as much as her words.

"You let your loyalty blind you Commander. It doesn't make for a fair investigation. Before you condemn a man, have all the facts first." JC returned to the photos, the scene taking shape in her mind's eye.

"How did you know I was a fighter pilot, Colonel?" Harm asked, trying to save face after such a dressing down.

"You wear wings Commander." JC stated without looking up.

"True," Harm returned, watching Mac rifle her stack of paperwork looking for something. "But I could have flown anything, what makes you so sure I was a fighter pilot?"

"I know things, Commander." JC finished with the photos and asked for the police report.

Just then, the door opened and a Petty Officer walked in, a male this time. "Commander, the Admiral would like to talk to you before you go to lunch, Sir. Bring with you an updated report on the Adams court martial."

"Understood Tiner, I'll be right there."

"Go ahead, Harm. I'll let you know what the Colonel comes up with." Mac responded as she handed over a police report as well as a report from NCIS.

"Nice to meet you, Colonel." Harm said and fled the room. Some how a reprimand from the Colonel, in an even tone of voice, seemed worse then suffering through a complete dressing down from the Admiral. But, God she was beautiful. And scary.

"Sorry about Harm, Colonel. His intentions are good." Mac tried to explain.

"His intentions should be to find the truth, Colonel, not avenge the death of a fellow pilot by blinding himself with loyalty to a dead man." JC responded harshly. Loyalty was a noble thing, but not when it blinded you to the truth.

"He usually is relentless when it comes to the truth, but he gets sidetracked when pilots are involved in any way." Mac knew Harm meant well.

JC just snorted.

Mac subsided and watched the Colonel work. She seemed to be completely disinterested in what she was reading, as if it were the morning paper. She was so still.

"What else, Colonel?" JC asked, handing back the reports. She opened the second Power Bar, chocolate this time, and began to nibble on it while she waited for the Colonel.

"I have the Coroner's report Ma'am." Mac handed over a file folder.

JC read the report twice and asked to reread the NCIS report.

"Did you find something, Colonel?" Mac asked, hopeful.

"I might have. Walk me through this." JC sat back and drank her coffee, listening to Mac tell the story.

"Lt. Commander Ralph Jenkins asked to meet his brother First Lieutenant Tom Jenkins at O'Malley's, a local pub just outside Norfolk where the Commander was stationed. Lieutenant Jenkins agreed and they arranged to meet at 2000. When the Commander got to the bar, he said that he heard a shot and saw his brother take a bullet in the chest. He ran to his brother and tried to stem the flow of blood, but he was hit in the heart. The Commander was released from the crime scene after questioning. A few days later, after NCIS concluded gathering evidence and talking to witnesses, they arrived at the Commander's house with a search warrant and came up with a recently fired .38 hand gun. The Commander was arrested on suspicion of murder." Mac concluded.

JC sat and gathered her thoughts before speaking. "Was a shell casing found at the crime scene?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Did NCIS run ballistics on the Commander's weapon and the bullet that killed the Lieutenant?" JC asked.