‘Reaching for Sarah’s Soul’ – Part Four
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
This story is set in the middle of season 7, just after 'Answered Prayers'.
Chapter Ten
Feb. 25th
1357 ZULU
Rosslyn, VA
Harm observed closely as Mac was studying the sign, standing rooted in front of the door to the simple white house, obviously pondering whether to go in or not. He knew just how difficult this was for her – after all, this was exactly what she had wanted to avoid at all cost. But he knew it would do her good if she would just make up her mind to it, and he was glad that her plans for once coincided with his wishes.
There was only one Cherokee healer to be found in the whole of D.C. and its surroundings. The polished brass sign at his front door read:
Bailey A. Smith M.D.
Neurology – psychiatry – psychology
Cherokee natural healing
Appointments upon request
Harm was infinitely grateful that Mac had finally gotten to this point. She was indeed about to see a therapist. At last.
Two days ago, when he had come over for dinner, Mac had been considerably uneasy. When he had asked if anything was wrong, she had told him of the phone calls she had just had with Sergei and Chloe. And then she had, carefully at first, filled him in on her idea of exploring her mental abilities from this new perspective.
While his immediate reaction had been a hearty outburst of laughter – something he had immediately regretted upon seeing Mac’s disappointment at him – Harm had to admit that Chloe’s theory sounded at least vaguely probable. But still, he didn’t feel too well about where Mac was headed. In fact, this wasn’t ‘Mac’. Only ‘Sarah’ would consider taking such a step. ‘Mac’ definitely wouldn’t. So he had at once volunteered to look for a Native American healer in the Yellow Pages for her – hoping that by doing so, he would save her from ending up with some fraud that might do more damage than good in the end.
When he had come across Dr. Smith’s advertisement, Harm had been greatly relieved. He felt he had found someone he could trust. After all, Smith did have a triple degree in medicine. Harm had at once called and made an appointment for Mac. Mac had seemed quite content – until she had found out that Dr. Smith was mainly a therapist. When she had confronted him with her discovery, Harm hadn’t even tried to deny his interest in getting her to see him. After a few icy, silent hours, Sarah had finally given in. The hope of getting a hold on her memories had apparently outweighed her concerns at last.
Just to what extent she was afraid, Harm had easily been able to see when Mac had asked him to go with her. True, she had claimed it was because she might need him to provide any information the psychologist might ask for but wouldn’t be able to get from her because she didn’t remember. But mainly – and he was seeing it just as clearly as Mac was – she wanted him to come along because she was afraid. This was ‘Sarah’ coming forth again. Harm was sure ‘Mac’ wouldn’t even have told him she had an appointment.
As Mac apparently didn’t find the force to take the last few steps up to the door on her own accord, Harm gently placed his hand on the small of her back and pushed a little. “Come on, Marine,” he said softly, “Let’s face the enemy.”
Mac turned her gaze to his and gratitude, intermixed with trepidation, was shining in her eyes. “Okay,” she answered with a faint smile. “Thank you, Harm.”
He rubbed her back a little, returning her smile. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
He could see she didn’t quite believe him but nevertheless, she squared her shoulders with a decided breath and let herself be guided to the door. Harm rang the doorbell and a minute later, a friendly, old man in an elegant gray suit welcomed them.
“Mr. Rabb and Ms. Mackenzie?”
“Yes,” Harm nodded. Mac seemed to be too intimidated even for that.
The man bowed slightly, offering his hand to Mac with a slight smile. “Bailey Smith, very pleased to meet you. Please, come on in.”
They shook hands and then followed Smith into the house. Harm winked encouragingly as Mac threw him a small confused frown. He, too, was surprised at the doctor’s attire and appearance, but then he decided that any expectations of meeting with a long-haired man in leather slacks and with feathers and pearls around his neck would have been foolish anyway. A fact that was immediately underlined by the three Harvard master certificates that were hanging in the corridor Smith led them through. The whole practice breathed distinguished taste and style, the white walls and the select few expressionist paintings creating an atmosphere of calm and intellectual retreat.
The glance Mac gave him when they entered the doctor’s office seemed to plead with him to take her away again, to the safety of her apartment, to his own, wherever. Just away... And yet, the moment the old man sat down behind his desk and with an amazingly juvenile smile bade them to take a seat, Harm knew they had found the right person for Mac to talk to. The sincere benevolence and wisdom in Smith’s eyes, paired with an almost adolescent spirit of mind and a considerable amount of mischief, were plain disarming. Sitting down, Harm had unconsciously taken Mac’s hand into his. Now, he felt her return his squeeze and when he looked at her, her answering smile was almost relaxed. A wave of relief washed over him.
Smith took a few seconds to openly look at them, seeming to size them up to prepare for his task – and apparently wanting to give them the same opportunity. Taking in a few more details, Harm thought he could now see Smith’s Native roots in him. He was a rather small person, 5’4 at best, and his actual strength was barely shining through his seemingly fragile stature. His skin did have a slight tinge in between reddish-brown and olive and his nose was just a little hooked, as if to satisfy any clichés. His eyes were huge and dark, and hadn’t his hair been well cut and snow white, Harm would have had no difficulties picturing Smith on a horse out on the prairie.
“So,” Smith eventually spoke up, looking at Mac, “Ms. Mackenzie, what can I do for you?”
Harm saw Mac swallow and unconsciously tightened his hold of her trembling hand. “I, uh...” Mac began, then cleared her throat and tried again. “I lost my memory,” she stated quickly as if she wanted to rid herself of the problem by getting it out in the open and leaving it to others to deal with it.
Smith’s eyebrows went up a notch. “Oh? Very well – what happened that led to your memory loss, Ms. Mackenzie?” After his initial surprise he was now all professional, his gentle smile dimming a little but never vanishing.
“I was shot in the course of a search and rescue operation in Arizona and fell into a coma. I suffered a superficial cranial injury from a ricochet, but as my doctors told me, it’s unlikely it had very much to do with my state.” Mac handed him an envelope with her MRI pictures.
Rising and walking over to the window, Smith asked, “Would you mind giving me a few more details of the incident?” While Mac explained, Harm supplying extra information whenever she left something out, Smith carefully studied the photos. When Mac had ended, the doctor returned to his chair and handed the photos back across the desk.
“Your doctors were right, Ms. Mackenzie. I can’t see any major indication, either, that your loss of memory had a physical cause. It seems more likely we’re talking about traumatic stress suppression here. How much about yourself do you remember? And did you try anything to retrieve your memory yet?”
Again, Mac calmly explained what she had learned since she had awoken and where she suspected lay any major deficits. Harm knew this attitude she had fallen into: this was Mac, the JAGman investigator. Facts, facts, facts... and not a thing beyond. So it seemed only natural and consequent that she didn’t mention her – their – private life at all. Not knowing if getting into matters of the heart would have been advised anyway, Harm only helped with a few professional issues and a few general details about their working relationship and friendship.
However, it soon became very clear that Smith wouldn’t be fooled. He listened quietly as they laid out the case to him, letting his eyes travel from Harm to Mac and back again several times in the course of their tale. When Mac fell silent again, Smith addressed her with a smile that was just a little curious and knowing in the benevolent way only age could supply.
“So, Commander Rabb is your best friend, Colonel?” he asked openly. “How close exactly are you?” Harm prayed the doctor wouldn’t dwell on the topic for too long.
Mac sighed. “If I knew, I probably wouldn’t be sitting here, doctor,” she answered. “But judging from what happened after the incident, I’d assume we’re as close as any platonic friendship can get. And, please, doctor, don’t call me ‘Colonel’,” she added, her voice a little lower. “I’m a civilian now.”
Apparently, Mac’s answer was acceptable enough for Smith. He didn’t comment on the issue any further, for which Harm was grateful. “So what would you like me to call you then?” the doctor asked. “Sarah?”
Mac nodded. “Yes.” Her voice was just a little unsure.
“And you, Commander?” Smith turned to look at Harm, his wise eyes exerting a strange effect on him. They seemed to look right into the inmost sanctuary of his heart, right where he had buried his most cherished memories and wishes.
“Uh... call me Harm,” he replied awkwardly.
“Okay, Sarah, Harm,” Smith went on. “What is it that you came to me for? Do you plan on taking up psychotherapy, did you want advice on what options you might have, or is there something else altogether?” he asked, almost as if he knew what had brought them to his house in the first place.
When Mac quickly glanced at him, obviously unsure if to reveal her intentions or not, Harm only gave her a slight encouraging nod once again, still not letting go of her hand. This was something she’d have to explain by herself.
She gave a low nervous chuckle before answering. “Doctor Smith, uh... I know this sounds really weird and I hope you won’t take offence that we chose you for your ancestry mainly but...” she let her voice trail off, looking helpless.
Smith’s smile had widened again. “Not at all, Sarah. Am I right to assume that you have a special interest in my Cherokee roots because you have Native American ancestors as well?”
Obviously surprised, Mac for a second gaped at him before she regained control of her demeanor again. “Yes, that’s right,” she admitted just a little sheepishly, “Actually, my great-grandmother was Cherokee, too. And... you know... sometimes I seem to have... well... kind of a sixth sense or...” She vigorously shook her head as if to scold herself for being so foolish. “I have no clue what this... thing... is but apparently I saved two people’s lives using it, among them Commander Rabb’s. And as whatever I tried to get a hold on anything of my former life failed, I thought I might as well try using that sense again for my own purpose.”
So, there, she had said it. Although Harm could feel her pain and her anxiety, he still had to stifle a grin at hearing her defiant explanation. ‘Way to go, Marine, you’re doing fine. Hang in there,’ he encouraged her quietly.
The old doctor observed her for a few moments as she was trying to will her breathing down to normal again. “There are many things in between Heaven and Earth that we don’t understand,” he eventually remarked calmly and sagely. “I have to admit that I’m pleased that you obviously consider this a possible cure, and I’ll gladly assist you. But I have to warn you: the powers of the spirits don’t reveal themselves to those whose minds are still closed up and don’t fully acknowledge the possibility of their existence. If you want to follow that road,” Smith’s gaze was intense and filled with a deep, innate faith in what he was talking about, “You’ll have to let go of your defenses. You may still doubt – but your doubts mustn’t exclude any possible outcome. I’ll need you to open up utterly and completely. Both of you,” he added with an intent look into Harm’s eyes, making his heart skip a beat and sudden fear rise in his throat.
He hadn’t counted on actually being a part of whatever might happen. Sitting by was what he had come for, not partaking. But one look into Mac’s anxious and yet so beautiful eyes made him push aside his reluctance in an instant. He had come to help her. And he would, no matter what. “All right,” he murmured consent. Mac nodded, swallowing.
Smith rose and opened the door to the adjacent room, then turning back and smiling invitingly. “If you would please follow me...”
A little unsure if he would like what they were going to find inside, Harm guided Mac through the doorway, the hand on the small of her back exercising gentle pressure to let her know he was there.
The room was spacey and just as calmly stylish as the others – a polished wooden floor, white walls, a couple of plants, a fireplace even. But there was no furniture in it, and instead of modern art, the few pictures hanging on the walls were Native artwork of various North-American nations. The only items Harm recognized were a sketch of Kokopelli, the mythic Anasazi flute player, and a slightly modern oil painting of the Cherokee Double Eagle Head. The whole room was cozily lit by two big modern chandeliers. In the middle of the floor lay a thick carpet in natural colors ranging from pearl white to dark brown. The air was warm and bore the faintest perfume of some vaguely familiar herbs.
Smith stepped onto the carpet and kneeled down, repeating his inviting gesture with ever the same gentle smile on his face. “Sarah, would you please lay down here? Don’t be afraid. What we’re going to do has nothing to do with exorcism or anything. Actually, we’re not even going to leave the path of classic psychology. If you’ll consent to it, I’m going to hypnotize you and then we’ll try to explore whatever may lie buried in the dark. The only help I’m going to have is from a little herbal tea – old family recipe from my grandmother who was a medicine woman,” he added, winking. “But as I said – don’t worry. The tea only has the slightest of sedating effects. Just to accelerate the hypnotizing process a little. Think of it more as of a medicine than as of some drug.” His expression turned a little disgusted. “Drugs will only cloud your senses even more when you try to open up with their help. Those hippies will never understand just what damage they caused natural medicine with their ways...” His sigh was just a little theatrical.
“Okay,” Mac acknowledged in a small, intimidated voice, obediently lying down on her back in the middle of the carpet.
“What about me?” Harm asked, hoping Smith wouldn’t tell him to stay away. He could feel Mac was by far more than a little uneasy about the whole situation.
“You’ll kneel down behind her,” Smith answered, “And take her head into your lap. She needs to feel secure in order to let go and open her mind to the spirits.”
Torn between joy about being allowed to comfort her so tenderly and trepidation at being so close to her again, Harm did as he was told. Mac closed her eyes as she lowered her head on his thighs. When he saw her features relax and an expression of quiet contentment take over, Harm was moved. She didn’t really know him – and yet she trusted him so obviously. More determined than ever, he swore to himself that he’d do everything in his power to make her remember him the way he wanted her to. He gently placed his hands at both sides of her delicate face, his thumbs unconsciously caressing her cheeks.
Smith had stepped up to them, holding two steaming mugs. “I’m sorry to interrupt but I fear you’ll have to sit up again for a moment,” he stated apologetically, handing them the mugs.
“Uh... me, too?” Harm couldn’t help asking as he accepted his drink.
Smiling, the doctor nodded. “Of course. If you want to help her, your souls have to be in synchrony,” he explained as if it were the most obvious thing on Earth.
Unsure what to make of the statement, Harm decided to accept his fate and took a fair-sized mouthful. The liquid tasted a little like camomile with a touch of rose water and something else he absolutely couldn’t define, strangely agreeable and soothing. The warmth of the beverage equaled the warmth of atmosphere in the room and all of a sudden, he began to feel very much at ease, completely at peace with himself, but still crystal clear in his mind, as he noted with considerable relief.
Mac lay down again and closed her eyes. Harm gladly cradled her head and calmly waited for what was going to happen. Smith had taken off his jacket and tie and was now kneeling at Mac’s side, hands on his thighs and eyes closed in concentration. After a few moments of the most intense silence Harm had ever witnessed, the doctor took Mac’s hands in his and spoke up in a voice that seemed to Harm like the audible equivalent of some balm you’d put on a serious burn. “You are sleeping, Sarah. You are sleeping... and dreaming... your mind is resting... your thoughts are floating... your breathing is slowing down... but it is flowing constantly... in... out... in... out... You are sleeping... but you are not far away. You’re right here... but your mind is elsewhere... You’re going back... a day... two... three... a week... two weeks... you’re still going... always going on... going and breathing... going and breathing...
Smith paused in his chant, again letting silence sink in on everything. Harm sensed a strange loss where the voice had previously rung in his subconscious. Awe began to rise in him, awe of the power this man possessed and that he, Harm, couldn’t even begin to understand.
The doctor drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as if to prepare for the next phase. “Where are you now, Sarah?” he then gently addressed Mac, just loud enough to get through to her without waking her.
Mac stirred a little, eyes still shut, but didn’t answer. “Sarah. I know you can hear me,” Smith tried again. “Where are you?”
Her voice was distant and just a little hollow when she replied. “Office...” she murmured.
“Did you go back a long time?”
“No...”
“What are you looking at?”
“Computer... my hands on the keyboard...”
“What about your hands?”
“The ring... I’m going to get married soon. Very soon...”
“Are you happy, Sarah?”
“No... my friend will go away... he won’t be there... but I must warn him... he mustn’t try to make it back in time... he mustn’t... he mustn’t...” Mac was getting increasingly uneasy, and Harm had to lay his hands on her shoulders, applying considerable pressure to keep her down on her back.
“What will happen if he does?” Smith asked.
Strangely, Mac quieted down and remained silent. “Sarah, what will happen if you don’t warn him?” the doctor tried again.
“Black...” Mac only whispered. “All is black...”
Turning to Harm, Smith sighed. “The fact that she stumbled upon this bit of information first tells us it’s very important to her,” he told Harm in a low murmur. “And that her memory failed her again just as she seemed to near the crucial point indicates that we’re very close already to what might lie beneath her problem. Do you know what happened?”
Harm had followed the scene, horror making his stomach knot. ‘This’ was the bottom of it all? He seriously doubted it. He swallowed. “The friend is me,” he explained just as low, “My plane went down at sea in a thunderstorm when I tried to make it back in time for her wedding.”
Smith only observed him for a few long moments, not letting show any hint of what he might be thinking. Eventually, Harm felt he couldn’t stand the scrutiny any longer and lowered his gaze to Mac’s features that had relaxed again.
“Try to go back past that day at your office, Sarah,” Smith took up the procedure again. “Go back... take your time, Sarah... where are you now?”
“Office...” came her faint answer just like the first time. Smith threw a puzzled glance at Harm but he only shrugged helplessly. After all, her profession had been the defining element of Mac’s former life, so it seemed quite natural she should remember her office rather than anything else – although he did wish something else would come to her mind.
“All right, what are you doing this time, Sarah?”
“I’m standing in the hallway... he’s there, standing at the glass door... he’s got a box in his arms... I’m warm... I can still feel his arms around me... He’s got no plants in his office... no plants...”
“How are you feeling?”
A lone tear escaped Mac’s right eye, startling Harm who had placed his hands on her cheeks again as it trickled down on his thumb. “He’s going away,” Mac whispered shakily. “I don’t want him to go... He can’t leave me... I must make him stay... I must... How can I make him stay? How...” Biting his lips and involuntarily holding his breath, Harm again tried to quiet her down by squeezing her shoulders.
Again, Smith decided to push forth. “Did you make him stay, Sarah? Or did he leave you?”
“I...” a quiet sob shook her shoulders. Harm squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, gulping his emotions down with considerable difficulty. Mac spoke up again, “I don’t know... it feels like... like he’s gone... but all is dark now...”
The doctor met Harm’s gaze. “I assume you are the person she’s talking about?” he asked calmly.
Harm nodded, his heart throbbing with regret. “I left JAG headquarters where we’d been working closely together, to go back to carrier flight duty,” he explained in a low voice. Never had he imagined that his step might have caused her such pain. Of course she’d been sad but as devastated as this...
“Self protection,” Smith remarked calmly. “She blocks everything out the moment it starts hurting for real. Now I’d be interested in what triggered this behavioral pattern to develop. I’m inclined to think it might again have something to do with you, Harm. Do you have any ideas?”
Sighing deeply, Harm shook his head. “Not really. Nothing of the kind happened again after my plane crash,” he answered. “The whole thing started out of the blue after she’d gotten seriously hurt on our last mission in Red Rock Mesa.”
“I see,” Smith nodded. “Sarah,” he then addressed Mac, “I want you to turn around and move forward again, nearer back to us. Leap over the black holes you find on the way, they’re not too wide for you. Don’t be afraid... we’re waiting for you, Sarah... we’re standing in Monument Valley... at the foot of one of the big plateaus... can you see us? We’re waving to you.”
“I see you,” Mac answered drowsily. “Why are we here?”
“Have you ever been here before?”
“No...”
“Concentrate. Try to remember, Sarah. The red rocks... the sand...”
“Dinosaur traces,” Harm quickly supplied, hopeful.
“Dinosaur traces, Sarah,” Smith took up the hint. “Do you see them, they’re right here.”
“No... never been here...” she weakly insisted, frowning in her trance. But then suddenly her face contorted painfully. “It hurts!” she sobbed. “My leg... I can’t walk... I must... the humvees... I can’t move... but I must! There’s something in my arms that I need to get out of here... something... but I can’t. Help! Harm! Help me! Save me! No, don’t... get out... Harm! No... Not yet...”
Harm couldn’t stand the situation any longer. His shoulders were shaking just as badly as hers as her whole body was convulsing in painful sobbing. Her grief seemed bigger than anything he’d ever known himself. Not caring whether it might be beneficial or not, he scooped her up in his arms and cradled her against his chest, trying desperately to keep his own tears in check. “I’m so sorry, Mac,” he murmured, his voice nearly suffocated. “It’s all my fault. I failed to protect you... I should have saved you... somehow... anyhow... forgive me...”
Apparently sensing that they were both at the verge of breaking down, Smith signaled to Harm to wake Mac with a few slight slaps on the cheeks. Drawing a few deep breaths, Harm managed to get a grip and then helped Mac come back to consciousness. She opened her eyes and obviously needed a few moments to sort out the situation. Astonishment began to tinge her expression when she became aware that Harm was holding her close to him.
“Harm, what...” she began, confused.
“How do you feel, Sarah?” Smith inquired gently.
She frowned, never giving any indication that she wanted to move out of Harm’s arms. He was infinitely glad about it. Right now he felt he needed her as badly as he ever had.
“I had a nightmare...” Mac murmured, addressing no one in particular. “I was somewhere... I don’t know where... and I knew I was going to die... there was nothing I could have done about it. You were there, Harm...” she looked up at him, more alert now. “Was it a memory? Did I find something?”
He nodded. “You remembered parts of the shooting in Arizona,” he explained to her. Hope was ringing in his voice when he added, “What do you recall?”
Mac’s brow furrowed in concentration. A minute passed in silence, then two, three. Eventually, her shoulders dropped. “Nothing,” she choked out, her acute disappointment cutting through his heart like a knife. “Not a single thing... just that I was going to die. But nothing beyond.” Harm could tell Mac was fighting her tears. He pulled her a little closer still and caressed her hair.
Smith placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Don’t despair, Sarah. That was only the first time you tried this kind of thing. Stick to whatever you may find out about Red Rock Mesa. I’m sure the clue must lie somewhere in this story. Take a little time and then see me again, okay?”
Mac only nodded, apparently lost in deep thought, miles away from her actual surroundings. But all of a sudden, she raised her head and fixed her gaze to Harm’s. He was amazed at the amount of sheer desperate determination showing in her eyes.
“If the key to my problem lies in that mission or anything connected to it,” she began, cautiously but decidedly, “Then I know who might hold it. Harm...” Her eyes bore into his, setting his heart aflame once again. “It’s Golden’s curse. I need to go to Fort Leavenworth.”
Chapter Eleven
Feb. 20th
1615 ZULU
Military detention center
Fort Leavenworth, Kansas
As they were led through the long, bare, neon-lit corridors, Sarah contemplated the irony of it all. Barely a week ago, she had been relieved, knowing she wouldn’t need to wear her uniform again – at least for quite some time, if ever. Today, however, she longed for the security the Marine green would have provided her in a place such as this. She felt bared and vulnerable in her elegant civilian attire. Sarah was well aware that the charcoal flannel suit and the burgundy shirt she wore underneath suited her very well, but not even the joy she had felt at Harm’s open admiration when he had picked her up for the airport early this morning could prevent her from wishing for the shelter of her colonel’s class A’s.
Always following closely in Harm’s tracks, his tall Navy-blue frame being her one mental anchor, she once again thought of just how thankful she was that she had him to help her deal with all this – starting with the big issues of digesting her situation, right down to logistic problems such as getting access to a military high-security facility and subsequently the opportunity to confront the man who had caused all her present pain.
At first, Harm had suggested she meet her uncle rather than Jeremy Golden, but Sarah had refused. Harm had argued that talking to someone who had been so close to her and knew a lot about her character might help a great deal. Of course, this kind of reasoning was nothing she could dismiss lightly. Yet, much as she longed to dig up anything that linked her to her past, Sarah was reluctant to confront Matthew O’Hara. She was well aware that she was being foolish about it but after all she had learned about Colonel O’Hara, about what strong and determined a person he was, about just how much he had influenced and formed her, she was ashamed to face him now. What would he think of the weak nobody his niece had become? And if he still cared, wouldn’t she cause him unnecessary pain, letting him know about her state and leaving him completely unable to help?
Still, after long arguing, Sarah had finally admitted to Harm that the main reason for her refusal lay elsewhere: she was plain terrified that she might meet him and not feel any connection at all. Her only living family member within reach, just another major disappointment in her quest? As long as she could shelve that moment, she would. So far, confronting the enemy seemed less dangerous than meeting but not recognizing a once beloved relative. So Sarah had insisted they see Lieutenant Commander Golden and leave the family reunion for some later occasion. At some point, Harm had given in.
Harm had arranged their interview, claiming he – as the prosecutor who had gotten Golden convicted – wanted to offer him the possibility to turn State’s evidence against some of his former criminal contacts. In some sort of a special after-trial plea bargain, Harm would then motion for Golden’s verdict of double life imprisonment to be reduced from hard labor to ordinary brig time. Sarah as Golden’s former defense counsel would offer to negotiate the plea with the prosecution.
Nobody needed to know that for Golden, a plea bargain was nowhere near in sight.
Sarah wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing Golden again. She didn’t remember anything about him – so meeting him shouldn’t cause her any more problems than had meeting any of her friends or colleagues. But one factor altered the whole equation: Golden was the ultimate focus of Sarah‘s concentrated rage and hatred. She had no idea how she would react once she met face to face with him. She was sure Mac would have stayed all cool and professional – at least as far as keeping up outward appearances was concerned. ‘Sarah‘, on the other hand, might behave completely differently. And what worried her most was that she didn’t know which of the two scenarios applied.
When the guard left them alone in the interrogation room to summon the delinquent, Harm once again turned to her, his concern showing clearly on his face. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this, Sarah?“ he asked, “You know this could get pretty ugly, don’t you?“
Trying to appear more confident than she felt and asking herself at the same time whom she wanted to fool, Sarah gave her friend a wan smile. “Yeah, I know. I know Golden’s obsessed with getting back at us,“ she recited the warnings Harm had voiced many times over ever since she had told him she wanted to confront her former client. “I know he’ll be on the lookout for whatever weaknesses he may spot in us. I know I probably won’t be able to conceal my problem from him, and I know that once I need to come out with it, he’ll savor his triumph.“ She stepped back slightly, needing this bit of distance to steel herself for what was to follow. “But I need to do it, Harm. I really do. You understand that, right?“
He sighed and nodded. “‘Course I do. Or I wouldn’t have come.“
“Thank you,“ she said simply, reading in his gaze the honesty of his support and his wish to protect her. “I don’t know if I’d be able to follow through without you.“
His voice was very low when he answered. “You’re welcome.“
Just then the door opened and Jeremy Golden stepped into the room. Harm seemed to barely restrain himself from jumping at his throat. Yet, Sarah witnessed as just a split second later, the invisible blinds in front of Harm’s soul seemed to close and he fell into professional routine – friendly, but icy.
Golden’s smile was just a little too smug for Sarah’s liking. She involuntarily lifted her chin a little higher... and immediately regretted it. Golden apparently noted each and every detail, be it visible or not. Her slight movement had kindled a spark in his eyes that didn’t appear healthy to her at all.
“Commander Rabb, how very kind of you to drop by,” Golden drawled, unceremoniously dropping onto a chair when Harm motioned for him to sit down. Then he let his eyes wander to Sarah, making her cringe inwardly at his open display of malicious joy. “And my dear Colonel Mackenzie... or rather Ms. Mackenzie, as I hear you swapped green for silk and flannel... A tad too adventurous after all, the military, for a lady like you, eh?” he challenged.
When Sarah prepared to answer she asked herself how long she’d hold up if this first reply had already forced her to gather all her mental strength. Yet, for now, she wouldn’t back down. “There are far too many people of your caliber outside the military, too,” she replied, squarely meeting and holding his gaze. “I just thought I might be needed to rid the world of some of them.”
“Wisely spoken,” Golden mocked her. “But if that be the case, then what gentle breeze brings you by, honey?”
“Civilian or not, you will show Ms. Mackenzie the full respect due an officer, Ensign,” Harm threatened, stressing the rank Golden bore since having been degraded on trial. “Or you might as well forget that we were here in the first place.”
Golden didn’t seem to be fazed. “...that you were here to do what exactly, sir?”
Rather than see it, Sarah could feel that Harm’s mental temperature was already nearing the boiling point. “To offer you a way out of hard labor,” Harm stated pointedly, his words cutting the air like freshly shaped blades. “Not that you deserve it, but I’m willing to be generous this once – if you agree to cooperate.”
“I see,” Golden said in a seemingly thoughtful voice. Then he suddenly turned to Sarah again, eyebrows raised. “But what would you be here for, ma’am?”
“To offer my legal assistance as you already figured among my clients,” Sarah retorted rather stiffly, mentally slapping herself for her insecurity.
Pursing his mouth, Golden cocked his head and sized her up for a moment. She felt like being stripped of her clothes one by one under the scrutiny of his eyes, becoming more exposed and vulnerable by the second. Almost against hope, she hoped she’d be able to conceal her true state of mind from him, but as the thought was forming in her mind, she could already read in his eyes that he knew something was very wrong about the picture she was trying to give of herself.
‘This is what you get for sharing personal information with a client,’ Sarah concluded, thinking about what Harm had told her of her defense strategy. ‘Quid pro quo. Smart move, Sarah, smart move indeed.’
Golden’s grin had widened. “Thank you so much, ma’am. So, as the law expert, what’d you suggest I do?” he asked innocently.
Sarah’s voice was still as stiff as if she’d swallowed a stick and were sitting bolt upright. “I’d advise you to consider the commander’s offer about turning State’s evidence.”
“Aah... wouldn’t I know it,” Golden sighed theatrically. “There’s always a catch, isn’t there, ma’am? You want me to testify against my partners? That’s a hard one...”
“Consider what you’d get in return,” Harm cut in curtly. “Here’s the deal. You’ve already booked your lifetime suite in this noble inn, so you have nothing to lose. Instead I’ll motion for changing your sentence from hard labor to ‘ordinary’ brig time if you’ll testify against the men who acted on your command and kidnapped my brother, the colonel’s sister and our colleagues’ son.”
Observing the enemy closely, Sarah had seen something change in Golden’s expression while Harm had been talking. The slightest bit of understanding had sparked in his eyes, and she knew that very moment that Golden had tasted blood. He wouldn’t drop this particular topic anymore, now that it had been brought up. To anyone, Harm’s words would have seemed determined. To her, however, who was close to him, they had sounded just a little desperate. And Sarah was convinced that Golden had concluded that there was far more to the picture.
Golden actually chuckled. “Scary New Year, wasn’t it? Too bad they screwed up. So I guess I might as well get back at them and tell you whatever you’d like to hear. Assuming I decide to go for it, what exactly would that be, sir?”
“Watch your speech, Golden,” Harm snarled, barely suppressed rage shining through his words. “Or we’ll be gone before you can even salute.”
“Too bad, sir,” Golden replied with feigned regret, “But I’d really need something more... inspiring to get me to talk. After all, I ‘booked my suite’ here, as you put it. The fun of an animated conversation with the two of you makes a little hard labor worthwhile. Ms. Mackenzie,” he turned to Sarah and again his stare penetrated any walls that she had tried to erect around herself, “I kind of liked your ‘Quid pro quo’ antics. If anything, this might just give me the decisive push...”
Expressly not looking at Harm – in order to show strength just as well as to avoid encountering the anxiety she knew lay in his gaze – Sarah stated, “Agreed.”
“Fine,” Golden smirked. “I’ll open the exchange. Yes, I contacted my former partners from within the brig via e-mail. Your turn.”
Again against her own will, Sarah gulped visibly. “Okay. You got what you wanted from the start, Golden,” she forced herself to tell him. “I’m facing a few personal problems right now and I need to review the whole affair. I want your account of the trial.”
This time, Golden’s expression of astonishment was almost sincere. “You puzzle me, ma’am. You were there, weren’t you? Okay, here you go. The commander listed the facts, grilled a few witnesses and had me nailed. You did nothing about it. Quid pro quo, Colonel.”
“Your last statement in the courtroom made quite an impression on me,” Sarah admitted, hating herself for doing it and hating him for expecting it and knowing she would comply. “What exactly did I tell you about ichnites and Red Rock Mesa?”
For a long minute, Golden only scrutinized her. Then, a thin smile began to contort his face. “I don’t think this game is as much fun as it used to be,” he observed. “So, if you want to keep receiving answers, ma’am, you should accept my altered rules.” All of a sudden, his gaze turned hard. “As are: there are no rules for me and just one for you. Until I decide I’m satisfied and feel inclined to talk, I’m asking and you’ll answer. How about that?”
Clearly enraged, Harm got up. “Ensign Golden, front and center!” he ordered, furious. Strangely enough, Golden complied and came to attention, although a hint of a smile kept still tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Harm went on, “Forget about the plea bargain. Forget that we ever even considered...”
“Agreed,” Sarah cut in, silently asking Harm to forgive her for questioning his authority this openly. But she saw her hopes dim that at least here, she might find something to trigger some kind of a mental re-start of her memory. And she wouldn’t let the opportunity slip through her fingers. ‘Don’t look at Harm,’ she implored herself, knowing full well what she would have found in his eyes. She was a traitor. She had stabbed him from behind when he had tried to protect her. But she couldn’t help it. She needed to know.
“At ease. Sit down, Ensign,” Harm only said after a few tense seconds. It was obvious he was trying to rid his voice of any reproach.
“Very well, sir, ma’am,” Golden said smugly. “’Yes’ or ‘no’ will do until I tell you otherwise. Let’s make this simple: I’ll limit myself to five questions. Then we’ll see where we stand. So, question number one: do you agree that all the answers you’ve asked for so far would have been things that an experienced lawyer like you would never forget in the course of less than a year?”
Her pulse rate had to have at least doubled. Golden was following the right track. ‘God, help me pull through,’ Sarah implored silently. “Yes,” she said aloud, her voice devoid of any emotions.
“Number two: am I right to assume that you normally don’t ask your former clients such questions, ma’am?”
“Yes, you’re right,” Sarah retorted defiantly. If she was bound to go down with this ship, she’d do it with her head uplifted.
Golden seemed to enjoy himself immensely, seeing he was headed in the right direction. “So, judging from the course this conversation has taken, your attitude regarding this point has changed since New Year?”
“Yes,” Sarah said as curtly as possible.
“To be more precise: did your change of mind occur after the Arizona shooting?”
“Yes.” Sarah thought her answer sounded as if it had been recorded on tape and was now being reproduced over and over again.
“Last one: to be frank, Colonel, I hear you were gravely injured. Did your injuries cause you amnesia?”
“Yes, they did,” Sarah answered icily, having accepted failure and praying the outcome would justify the means in the end. “All right, I humiliated myself. You got your revenge. Go ahead. Enjoy it. But now I want details.”
His gaze falsely apologetic once more, Golden shook his head. “I’m sorry for you, ma’am... but I never said I’d answer now. I only said we’d see. Still, I’ll concede that we can move this on to phase two. You still game?”
‘As much as I could ever be, masochist that I apparently am,’ Sarah silently scolded herself, giving just another “Yes.” and waiting for the next question.
However, they were in for another surprise. Golden turned to Harm. “Fine. Commander, you’ll answer me now, right? I’m sure you’ll want to help your favorite former colleague to regain all the nice memories she must have of you,” he sneered.
“All right, enough,” Harm snapped, getting up again and turning to Sarah. “Come on, Mac. Let’s go. This is of no use.”
She didn’t know how to react. She felt just how painful this had to be for him but cruel as it was, Golden was her last straw. She couldn’t let it go. ‘Harm, please...’ she silently begged, her gaze glued to his.
“Interesting,” Golden remarked, observing their silent conversation. “Tell me, ma’am, are we fraternizing a little? Oh, sorry, now you’re on the safe side, of course. Anyway, I suspected as much when I saw you face to face during the trial. I might just drop a hint to someone important about conduct unbecoming...” Letting his voice trail off and insinuating the consequences, he turned to Harm. “In denial, Commander? How come? With such a beautiful woman as her?”
“You’re having delusions, Ensign. Besides, my friendship with the colonel has absolutely nothing to do with what we’re here for. We’re willing to follow your outrageous game here, because any information you might have could be important. So, don’t waste our time.” Harm’s answer had come out just a little more passionate than he’d probably planned.
“Oh, I think it has everything to do with the case, Commander,” Golden drawled, obviously doing a mental happy dance that he had the prosecution’s fair hero on a short leash. “If you ask me,” he leaned back on his chair and fixed the ceiling in a mock gesture of contemplating a philosophical issue, “Out there, in Arizona, your... ‘friend’ knew she was close to dying and the heartache of leaving you behind with matters still unresolved between you two was too much. So her memory just hotwired.”
Sarah was already regretting bitterly that she had insisted they stay. Seeing Harm’s pained expression and somehow feeling keenly what was going on inside him, she reproached herself for exposing him so cruelly. She only hoped he’d ever be able to forgive her.
“Maybe,” was all Harm said, his face seeming to be carved in marble.
Golden’s eyebrows went up. “Did you really answer me? You’re actually doing this, Commander? For her? Amazing. What do you think you’ll achieve with this? Win her heart?”
“Get the information she needs,” Harm ground out.
Golden frowned. “Awww, sir, you should know me better than that. I don’t buy it. You have to know, I can judge that normally you’d already have kicked my butt to the moon instead of putting up with my game. That you’re so compliant can mean only one thing: you consider the colonel more important than anything else. We don’t get many heart-warming stories in here. So, here’s my offer: let me have yours, ‘the whole truth and nothing but the truth’, of course... and I’ll answer whatever you ask. Fair deal, I’d say. Up to you, sir.” Smirking broadly, Golden leaned back again and crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting.
Gray dots were dancing in front of Sarah’s eyes and she had to keep reminding herself not to hyperventilate. Just how horrible could this get? Golden was offering to supply the information she longed for and needed desperately to maybe finally come back to herself again – at the price of forcing Harm to confess something he apparently hadn’t even told his own mother, let alone her, whom it might concern the most. All of a sudden, Sarah was disgusted about herself. Who was she to force the best and most loyal friend she’d probably ever had – the man she loved – into letting himself be tortured just for a few facts she might need?
“Harm,” she quickly addressed him, unconsciously laying her hand on his forearm, “Don’t let him do this to you. Let’s just go. It’s not that important anyway.”
“It is to me,” he replied, surprising her as well as Golden who had apparently counted on a little more resistance.
“Is it?” Golden asked, grinning maliciously. “Then spill it... sir.”
Harm’s face was all marble again. Staring in Golden’s direction, his voice was monotone and low when he made what Sarah recognized as probably the most intimate confession of his entire life. “All right, Golden. Have it your way. Quid pro quo. Yes, you’re right. I’m doing this for her. I want her to come back to her true self again, more than anything. And you’re right, too, if you’re suspecting that I’m also doing this for myself. Sarah Mackenzie is the most important person in my life and I can’t imagine it without her. Before all this happened, she was the one who made me want to excel in whatever I was doing. She was the one whom I used to share every happy moment with, and she was whom I’d turn to whenever I needed support. Now, all I can ever think of is getting her back and keeping her in my life for good. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get there. Was that enough to satisfy you?” he asked just a little defiantly.
“Definitely.” Golden seemed to savor the word as it was slowly rolling off his tongue, observing both of them closely.
Sarah suspected he could see just how close she was to crying – from joy because although Harm hadn’t said it expressly, she had recognized his words as a declaration of love. And from despair – because he had all but said it openly that he didn’t consider her the woman he loved anymore. Now she knew that not only her personality depended on retrieving her memory. Her whole future happiness, her life together with Harm was hanging on that one thread of hope.
“Good,” Harm said, his emotional exhaustion evident in his voice. He didn’t even seem to try to conceal it. “I’ve fulfilled my part of the deal. Now it’s your turn, Ensign.”
An achingly long moment passed before Golden spoke up again. “No,” he said calmly, still smiling. “I don’t need your offer anymore, sir. Why should I even consider turning State’s evidence against my former partners? I’d have done it to have a bit of a vendetta because they screwed up my nice revenge plans in the first place. But... what they did accomplish is just so much better. I might even feel inclined to think of a gesture of gratitude towards them...” He stood. “If you’ll please tell the guards to take me back to my cell, ma’am, sir?”
For a few seconds, Harm didn’t even budge. He had paled and beads of perspiration were visible on his forehead. Then he slowly got up – a broken image of the man Sarah had come to know as Harmon Rabb, Jr. The man who had done the one thing he feared most, who had finally opened up and had laid his heart on the table in front of someone so utterly undeserving. He had bared his soul to someone he despised, for the sole purpose of helping her, and he had been pushed back into the dirt instead of achieving what he had made this enormous sacrifice for. He was standing motionless, unflinching, but to Sarah’s eyes, it was as evident as anything that Harm was devastated and hurting tremendously.
This was her breaking point. Wondering for a fleeting moment if this was a remainder of Mac resurfacing, she suddenly sprung to her feet and violently punched the startled Golden in the face, making him topple to the ground. She stood over him for a moment, panting, willing herself not to kick his defenseless form. “Harm, I think we need a medic,” she whispered shakily. “Self defense,” she only added, knowing that from her point of view, it was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help her God.
To be continued...