1200 Zulu
Undisclosed Location
Chechnya Territory
(Two men sit in a darkened room with evidence of weapons around them and the muffled sounds of artillery in the background. Documents lay on the table between them. As they speak, their conversation is translated in subtitles.)
"The Russian prisoners are to be released, though they still hold one of our greatest leaders?"
Giving only a nod, the stocky, bearded man acknowledged a map marked with troop movement. "Putin has pulled back thousands of his soldiers, so we will return their men." He paused a moment and fairly spat the words, "As a sign of goodwill."
A look of disgust on his face, the other man rose and began to pace the room. "Goodwill...so that those same soldiers can attack our countrymen once more." Stopping to stare at his comrade, he continued, "And we have been told the Americans are asking for the release of one particular man. That is not acceptable."
"It will be stopped." Determination set on his face, the man stared back down at the documents before him, his gaze focused on one particular name and face.
(Zoom in on photo of Sergeant Sergei Zhukov, Russian Army Air Force)
*Cue music, cut to opening credits*
*Random commercials including, but not limited to, CBS's Fall Schedule shows*
2030 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
(Zoom in: JAG headquarters, quick cut to interior, Harm's office)
Mac stood at the door to Harm's office, watching as he sat staring at the phone in his hand. She waited until the phone he held began an impatient beep before she crossed the room and stood next to him with an anxious expression. Almost close enough to touch him, she asked, "Harm? Harm? Are you okay?"
Harm looked up with an almost dazed expression as he fumbled a bit to turn off his phone. He could still clearly remember the look on Mac's face when he woke up in that hospital room, and he knew how concerned she'd continued to be for the past weeks. With a genuine smile, Harm took Mac's hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm fine, great, actually."
When Harm released her hand, Mac moved around the desk to shut the door before she took a seat. She waited in silence until Harm's eyes met hers again. "They're releasing him, Mac. He's coming home."
A smile blooming, Mac replied, "They've finally set a date?"
The hopeful expression still not leaving his face, Harm continued, "According to Webb, the Russians and Chechens reached an agreement. Sergei is going to be released in a small group of soldiers some time in the next 48 hours."
"That's soon. Does that mean the Russians agreed to the Chechens' demands?"
Shaking his head, Harm answered, "No, but they've agreed to release a small number of prisoners as a gesture."
Mac leaned back in her chair and nodded. "As an answer to Putin's removal of soldiers from the territory." She watched a moment as Harm's smile faded a bit, so she continued gently, "But you're worried because the fighting hasn't stopped and..."
Harm interrupted, "And they are transporting my brother across a war zone so he can be released to a government that set him up once before for treason. There are no guarantees, Mac, and you know I've been close before."
Leaning across Harm's desk, Mac took his hand in hers again. "It's going to be different this time, Harm." With that simple statement, Mac saw a bit of the strain leave Harm's face, so she leaned back in her chair again and moved on to happier subjects. "So, when are you leaving for Russia?"
"You think I'm that predictable?"
"I think there are very few things that could keep you off an airplane to Moscow at this point."
Harm looked down at the hastily scribbled notes before he continued. "Actually, it looks like there are two people who are doing just that. Sergei will be taken to the Russian Army base in Khankala, Chechnya, where he will be met by one Captain Alex Volkonov."
Mac smiled at that. "He's repaying old debts?"
"Something like that...and apparently more debts are being paid." At Mac's quizzical expression, Harm continued, "After Sergei is debriefed at Khankala, he will be transported to the embassy in Moscow. Webb will be there with an American passport...and an open, two-way ticket to the U.S."
Eyes lighting up, Mac replied, "That's the best news I've heard since...in a long time."
That pause made Harm narrow his eyes and look at Mac closely. "Since?"
Mac's eyes averted to the floor quickly, before she returned Harm's gaze with a gentle smile. "Since I learned that the other Rabb boy would be safe at home."
A comfortable silence fell over the room as both their minds quickly went back to a time that seemed like a lifetime ago, but had only been a few weeks. Neither would truly understand what the other had been through that night that Harm had been lost at sea, though they could read a little of it in the other's eyes.
"Mac..."
"Harm..."
Their voices mixed, but were interrupted as the intercom on Harm's desk broke through.
"Commander?"
"Yes, Tiner."
"The Admiral needs to see you in his office, and he wants the Colonel there, as well."
Mac nodded before Harm answered, "We're on our way."
As she heard the click telling that the intercom was safely off, Mac looked at Harm. "Why don't we try to have this conversation another time?"
Smiling at the notes on his desk, Harm replied, "Sounds like we might have something to celebrate, too."
*Cut to Admiral Chegwidden's office, a briefing is in progress*
2050 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
"NCIS was able to complete the investigation today, and Admiral Anderson wants this matter taken care of quickly. The reports outline the case against Lieutenant Lang, though you may want to question some witnesses. You should go to court-martial in the next few days, unless an agreement can be reached. I have Roberts and Singer on defense, and, Colonel, you'll lead the prosecution. Commander, you'll assist. Are there any questions?"
Mac quickly looked up from the short case file in front of her and exchanged a quizzical glance with Harm before she answered, "No, Sir."
"Good." The Admiral leaned back in his chair, his two officers looking at him expectantly. However, he would not be rushed as he said, "I've just seen a report on ZNN, Commander, and I was actually expecting a request from you."
Harm felt Mac's quick glance, and he could have sworn he heard her mutter, "Predictable." However, his eyes remained straightforward as he immediately understood why he and Mac had been given such a simple case. "I've received that same report, Sir, but I won't be making any requests."
The Admiral's eyes clouded a moment as he countered, "I was under the impression that your brother would be among those released. Webb guaranteed that he would be part of the first trade."
Harm almost smiled when he saw the disgusted look on his commanding officer's face as the older man reached for the phone, and as much as he would have enjoyed hearing just what the Admiral would have said to Webb, he interrupted. "Sir, Sergei will be part of the release, but I won't be going to Russia. Courtesy of Mr. Webb, Sergei will be on a plane to D.C. by Wednesday."
The older man smiled in return as his hand rested on the phone. "I'm glad to hear that, though I imagine your next statement will be one asking for liberty when your brother gets here."
Looking uncomfortable for a moment, Harm replied, "I think I've missed enough time in the recent past, Sir. I know I'll be able to find time for my brother in addition to my duties."
The Admiral saw the guilty looks on both his officers' faces when that statement was made, so he broke in wryly, "I think we might manage to limp along without you for another day or two, Harm, or at least long enough for you to show your brother the town. Perhaps a long weekend so you can take him to meet your grandmother."
Harm was ready to argue until he heard that last statement. Taking his younger brother to meet the grandmother who never even knew he existed was something he'd tried not to let himself dream of. A ghost of a smile on his face, he replied, "I would appreciate that, Sir."
Next, the Admiral turned to Mac, who had been sitting in silence during the conversation. "Colonel, I don't believe you are scheduled for duty this Saturday."
Straightening a little, Mac replied, "No, Sir, I'm not, but if there is something that you need..."
Not daring to smile, the Admiral interrupted, "No, Colonel, just pointing out a fact."
It took Mac a moment, but she just nodded. Harm also waited a moment before he asked, "Is there anything else, Sir."
"No. Dismissed."
Both Harm and Mac stood and came to attention before they left the office. When they reached Mac's door, Harm stopped and said, "So, how does a weekend in Pennsylvania sound?"
Mac shifted uneasily before she said, "I'm flattered that you asked, Harm, but I'm not sure if this is something I want to intrude on..."
Looking quickly around the bullpen to see that no wandering eyes were on them, Harm allowed his hand to brush Mac's. "You wouldn't be an intrusion, Mac, and I know that Sergei will want to see you again. And my grandmother."
Mac began to argue again, but Harm stopped her as he said softly, "I know we said that we're going to take it slow, Colonel, but we need to start somewhere."
Smiling, Mac nodded. "I'd like that." However, she looked down at the file in her hands and said, "But some of us have work to do first. We'll make plans later, okay?"
Allowing their hands to break contact, Harm replied, "Okay."
*Commercial break...for some insipid 'Survivor' knockoff, a fast food restaurant, and soda*
0010 Zulu
Undisclosed Location
Chechnya Territory
(More men are gathered as quiet discussions are murmured among them. One man, obviously a leader of the guerilla group, moves to the front. Discussion appears in subtitles)
"We've wasted enough time. The prisoners are already in transit by truck to the Russian base."
Crossing his arms across his chest, another man spoke up. "We cannot attack them there. Even in our own territory, the base is too heavily guarded. The time to move is now."
Sounds of assent filled the darkened room as several of the men moved to a central table where maps were laid. "The ride across the terrain will take some time, so my source has told me that there will be a daylight release here at the southern entrance to Khankala in fourteen hours. We can wait for them in the valley, attack the convoy, and retake the prisoners. The Russian government will not mistake our intent."
A mild, but earnest voice spoke up. "What will happen after we retake these prisoners? What will the retribution be? Just what *is* our intent?"
With anger, the leader turned to the younger man. "What do you mean? Our intent is to show Putin and his men that we can't be pacified, and we won't give into their demands when they will not meet our own. We began this fight years ago, and it will not be over until we are recognized as an independent nation."
"But will we have any countrymen left to rebuild our nation after all the destruction?"
The quiet question was left unanswered and swept away with an impatient movement of the leader's hand. "We have no time for your silly questions." Deliberately, he turned towards the small group. "Who of you will join us?"
(All of the men move to join their leader, leaving only one lingering in the background. The man who dared question the attack walks slowly out of the room into the woodlands surrounding the cabin.)
*Quick cut to interior, evening, Harm's apartment*
0030 Zulu
Harm's Apartment
North of Union Station
Mac dropped a half-eaten slice of pizza on her plate before she reached for the deposition lying on her lap. "There are no surprises from the bunkmate's testimony, Harm. Open and shut dereliction of duty. I think the preliminary hearing is going to go fine tomorrow morning."
Pausing a moment, Mac rechecked some information in her hand and began shuffling for a document she didn't have. Without looking up, she asked, "I want to read what Lang has to say again. Do you have his statement?"
Because she was still looking at the paper in her hand, Mac didn't notice Harm's staring at the silent phone. She waited another moment for his response until she looked up and saw where his gaze lay; however, she didn't fully get his attention until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Opening his mouth to apologize, he stopped when Mac smiled gently.
"Go ahead and call him, Harm."
Shaking his head, Harm couldn't help but smile at how well Mac knew him. "Webb called to tell me about this just yesterday, Mac. Everything's going along the schedule the governments planned."
Settling back onto the sofa, Mac replied, "Yesterday the convoy with the prisoners hadn't started across the mountains, Harm, and I know you want an update. Just call him. Webb owes us." When Harm still sat there unconvinced, Mac grabbed the phone and put it in his hand. "You need to know."
Harm only paused a moment before dialing the number from memory. He didn't bother to hide a smile when a very annoyed Clayton Webb answered the phone.
"Webb."
"Clay, this is Harm. What's going on?"
"Well, it's almost 4:00 am here, Rabb, so there doesn't seem to be a whole lot going on."
"Moscow isn't your kind of city, is it, Webb?"
Harm didn't notice the hesitancy in Webb's answer, nor could he hear him wave away the familiar officer who stood nearby. "I don't think you called to discuss the nightlife here, Harm. What do you need?"
Taking a deep breath, Harm asked, "You haven't heard anything else, have you? I mean, they're on their way, aren't they?"
Webb looked across the room at the active command post and glanced at Alex Volkonov. Not allowing himself to lie, he said, "Yes, they're on their way, Rabb. Your brother will be at the base by five PM, Moscow time. You'll get word as soon as I know something."
Harm looked at the clock and mentally calculated the time. Linking eyes with Mac, he replied, "Okay...and if I don't remember to say it again, thank you, Webb."
Blocking out the noise around him, Webb quietly answered. "I told you once before, Rabb, your father has already paid that debt."
Those were the last words Harm heard before the soft click of the phone sounded.
*Cut to Russian Army base, Khankala, Chechnya*
Captain Alex Volkonov walked over to Webb as he hung up the phone. "You did not tell Commander Rabb about the intelligence we received regarding the guerillas?" The tone was half accusatory, half questioning.
Webb placed his phone back in his pocket. "We're on a need-to-know basis here, Alex. Rabb doesn't need to know about the guerilla's plan to stop the prisoners' release because it's not going to happen."
Volkonov paused a moment before asking, "So Rabb believes you are still in Moscow?"
"Yes, and he'll go on believing that until I am able to call him and let him know that I've got Sergei on a Russian Army transport to Moscow. Then I'll get both of us on a plane to the U.S., and they can finally have their reunion."
In an uncharacteristic gesture, Webb dragged a hand through his hair. "We're not going to let anything happen to jeopardize that reunion, are we?"
Volkonov simply nodded his agreement.
*Fade out...more random commercials...does anyone use this much floor wax?*
1330 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
(Harm and Mac are in a courtroom, where the preliminary trial will soon begin. Bud and Singer are seated at the defense table, along with a young lieutenant.)
Mac caught Harm looking at this watch again and murmured with sympathy, "I know you'll hear something from Webb soon, Harm. If we're still in court, the Admiral will have Tiner bring you a message here."
Harm looked over at Mac and whispered, "I don't think Chegwidden is really big on interrupting court proceedings. How did you talk him into doing that?"
Smiling, Mac replied, "It was his idea."
Any response from Harm was stopped as the judge called the court to order.
*Quick cut to quiet woodland scene, zoom in on hidden group*
(From a concealed vantage point near the base, Russian soldiers, including Volkonov and Webb, watch for the arrival of the convoy, while hidden sharpshooters also dot the valley. Another group lies in wait, but cannot be seen.)
1350 Zulu
South of the Russian Army Base
Khankala, Chechnya
Webb looked impatiently at Volkonov. "Where are they, Captain?"
"The prisoners should be here any time, and according to my young source, the guerillas are here, too. We just can't see them..." He stopped and scanned the horizon before he added, "Yet."
"I just hope that there haven't been any..."
Webb's statement was cut short by the sound of approaching vehicles. He heard soft commands for the men to ready themselves as the first truck could be seen coming over the horizon, but no other sounds could be heard as the convoy continued its journey.
Suddenly, a single shot rang out, causing the lead truck to stop abruptly.
As the men leapt to action, Volkonov turned to Webb. "It starts now."
*Quick cut back to courtroom scene*
Harm stood at the table, his eyes not leaving the officer presiding over the hearing. "Your honor, we have a clear case of dereliction of duty. When Lieutenant Lang ignored his commanding officer's orders, he not only put his fellow sailors at risk, but he also forgot his oath to the Navy. He denied his oath to himself, and he served with no honor."
*Quick cut back to Chechnya*
Taking the slight cover afforded by the foliage, Webb muttered to Volkonov, "They've taken out the tires of all the trucks and one...maybe two...of the drivers. Are your people going to wait until they get to the prisoners before they do anything?"
Volkonov shook his head and listened a moment for orders to come into his earpiece. "We're moving in now. Stay low, and try your best not to shoot at anyone." He stopped a second and almost smiled at the absurdity of it. "An American CIA agent helping to take down a group of Chechen rebels to rescue a group of Russian POWs. Our countries' relations have come far, no?"
Regardless, Webb cocked the weapon in his hand before replying, "We'll discuss the humor in the situation later, Alex. Right now, let's just get those men."
Warning shouts were heard as the Russian soldiers made their presence known. Shots and return fire lobbied across the valley, and a few, dazed men toppled out of the rear of a large truck into the line of fire.
*Quick cut back to courtroom*
"I'll hear from the defense now."
Bud stood and acknowledged his client as he began to speak. As he referenced Harm's statement, commenting on the prosecution's burden of proof, he noticed the faraway look on Harm's face as he stared at the ticking clock on the courtroom wall. However, he didn't see the way Mac's hand linked with Harm's under the table as she followed his gaze.
*Quick cut back to Chechnya*
Only smoke and rushing bodies could be seen as soldiers and guerilla fighters battled for control of the situation. Webb used one hand as a sunshield as he looked out onto the wooded area. His other hand tightened on his weapon when he recognized a blond man...who was staring into the end of a weapon.
With an oath, Webb rushed into the mob, his weapon trained on a bearded man who held the young pilot's life in his hands. A shout as his only warning, Webb threw himself into the fight, drawing fire himself as he took the life of the Chechen leader.
Stunned, it took Sergei a moment to roll from the man whose lifeless body had him pinned to the ground. It took more time still until his eyes were able to focus on the man who was grasping the arm of his own bloody suit jacket. "Mr. Webb?" he asked incredulously.
Gritting his teeth, Webb let go of his arm for a second so he could grab his weapon and jam it into his waistband. Then he grabbed Sergei's arm and hauled him to his feet just as they heard an 'all clear' from the Russian mission leader.
Trying a smile, Webb answered, "I've come with a message, Sergei, and another plane ticket. If the promise of chocolate chip cookies doesn't do it this time, perhaps the fact that if I don't come back with you, your brother will quite possibly shoot me in the other arm will."
Sergei smiled at the feeble joke and replied with one of his own. "I've been in prison for many months, Mr. Webb...I think the cookies will be enough."
*Final cut to the courtroom*
The judge spoke in a mild tone, but the young defendant did not mistake the message. "The prosecution has proven its burden. Lieutenant, you will be held over for court-martial. The court thanks the officers for their participation. This hearing is adjourned."
Mac looked over at Harm as he stood motionless after the judge's announcement. She didn't need to look at the clock behind them to know that the time Webb had stated had come and gone.
After both she and Harm walked over to shake hands with Bud and Singer, Mac began to search for any reassurance she could make. However, she stopped suddenly as she felt Harm stiffen. His eyes were locked on the door Tiner had just opened. Not caring that they were standing in an emptying courtroom, Mac took Harm's hand quickly. She didn't even bother to release it as the petty officer approached them with a phone.
"Call for you, Sir."
Harm was unable to thank the smiling, younger man as he put the phone to his ear. "Tell me good news, Webb."
He couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief when he heard the static-filled reply. "Mr. Webb is a little busy right now, big brother, but I can let you talk to him if you wish."
(Close up on a shared smile as Mac squeezes Harm's hand and he turns to finish his conversation)
*Final set of commercials...including, but not limited to, movies I don't wanna see: "Atlantis," "A.I.," and anything starring Rob Schneider...and a couple I have seen, but wish I hadn't*
0030 Zulu
Dulles International Airport
Dulles, Virginia
"Harm, sit down. Now."
Harm looked over at his partner, who had actually remembered to bring something to read with her. However, the "Vantiy Fair" magazine lay forgotten on the chair as she rose to stand behind Harm as he stared through the glass of the observation deck.
"I knew he should have flown into Reagan, Mac. This is ridiculous. Five hours...he was supposed to land five hours ago!"
Rolling her eyes, Mac repeated the same speech she'd given at least a hundred times during those five hours. "It's not the airport's fault, Harm. It's the airline's. Make a phone call when you get home. Send an e-mail. Write them a letter. Whatever. But right now, I need you to sit down."
Finally smiling a little, Harm sat beside Mac on the slightly uncomfortable, black chairs. He then looked over her shoulder at the shirtless actor draped across the pages of the magazine and commented dryly, "You know, that guy is young enough to be your..."
Mac's brows shot up in defense, but she was secretly glad Harm had relaxed a little. "To be my what, Commander?" When Harm didn't answer, she continued haughtily, "And I'm reading the article to find out more about the making of 'Pearl Harbor,' nothing more."
Not believing that line, Harm was about to continue the playful conversation until he heard the loudspeaker come to life once again. He muttered, "If I hear one more 'important message' about protecting your luggage..."
Mac, however, was listening closely and heard them say, "Flight 7741 from Sheremyetevo Airport, Moscow, is now arriving. Please meet your parties at the International Arrivals Lounge, lower level."
"That's his flight." When Harm made no move to get up, Mac said gently, "You've been waiting five hours, Commander, so I think you'd better go."
With a sober expression, Harm replied, "I've been waiting longer than that, Mac. Thanks for being here with me."
Closing the magazine, Mac watched as Harm rose. "I wouldn't have been anywhere else. Go get your brother, Harm. I'll wait for you here."
When Harm shook his head, Mac began to argue. She stopped, however, as he reached for her hand. "I want you with me, Mac. You belong there." That was all it took before they were making their way to an escalator hand-in-hand.
*Music swells. Cut to exterior scene, night*
0200 Zulu
Vietnam Veteran's Memorial
The Mall
Washington, D.C.
Harm stood in silence as his gaze switched between the glossy panel and his brother's face. The months in the prison camp had taken some weight from the younger man and perhaps it took a bit of his vitality, but Harm believed those things could and would be regained.
Several moments passed as Harm waited for his brother to speak. Finally, Sergei turned with traces of tears in his eyes. With a slow, painstaking motion, he turned and looked at the expanse of dark marble. "All these men...lost in another dirty war."
Unable to find a reply, Harm merely stared at Sergei for a long moment. "I hope it doesn't hurt that I brought you here, and I hope you understand why I did." The next words made Harm catch his breath.
"You wanted to give me a piece of him...and I thank you for that, brother. I just wish I could have..." Sergei didn't need to finish that statement because both of them felt it.
Though several moments passed in silence, Harm put a hand into his pocket and grasped the chilled metal he found there. Taking a deep breath, he took a step forward to where Sergei was tracing letters with a steady hand.
"You told me once that you thought you understood our father better than I. Watching you walk through those doors yesterday, maybe I realized that was true." Stopping a moment, Harm watched as the younger man's hands dropped from the wall. He then held out the bracelet from his pocket. "I think dad would have wanted you to have this."
Sergei looked down at the bracelet he now held in his hand. Slowly, he read the name and numbers there. "What is this?"
"It's his MIA bracelet." Motioning to the Wall, Harm continued, "One was made for all the men whose fates were never known. I wore his until...until I found out..."
"Until you found out how it ended." The man continued to run his fingers over the now-warming metal. "Does it still anger you, that he was able to live another life after his escape?"
Harm waited until Sergei's eyes raised to meet his. "Not anger, no. Sadness that he never got to return home. Helplessness that I have to come to a wall to honor him. And disappointment that he never got to know either of his sons."
That single statement brought a smile to Sergei's face. It didn't fade as he slipped the bracelet onto his wrist. "But his sons will know each other."
A light rain began to fall as the two men turned towards the Wall one final time. Both touched the surprisingly warm marble before saluting and turning towards the woman who waited for them at the top of the hill. Harm threw a light arm over his brother's shoulder and replied, "Then let's get started."
(Camera pans backwards on the two men who climb the walkway towards Mac, freeze frame on three retreating figures they begin their way across the Mall)
*Cue music and closing credits*
Author's notes: Josh Hartnett appears on the pages of the July issue of "Vanity Fair" magazine. Unfortunately, he does not belong to me, either. Sigh...
Another note: I actually did research about this whole Chechnya thing, but I am *not* an expert. Also, about times: Moscow is eight hours head of D.C., usually, and Zulu time has been figured in with no regard for Daylight Savings time. Also, I'm assuming that Chechnya is on Moscow time, too. Forgive any discrepancies.
A third note: The title comes from a PBS documentary of the same name. The documentary discusses American pilots in Vietnam and their years in POW camps. I mean no disrespect by using this title, and I recommend that everyone find a copy of this documentary and watch it.