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Shades of Gray
2300 Zulu (10:00 am Local)
Mac stood silent and dry eyed, her eyes fixed on the flag draped casket. Beside her, she was aware of Harm’s reassuring presence as they observed the too familiar customs of a military funeral. An honor guard stood a short distance away, rifles in reverse arms position, awaiting orders to fire the traditional farewell volley. Mac dreaded that moment, aware that it would be nearly impossible to control her reaction when the rifles fired. Mac knew that she was here as a representative of her country, and as a Marine, and because of that, she forced her face to remain impassive, her back straight and shoulders back. But in her mind, she relived her time as Mic’s lover and fiancé. Mic had been a good man - honest, brave, and deserving of a woman who would love him with all her heart. Mac had tried to be that woman. For a while, she had almost convinced herself that she could be happy spending the rest of her life with him. When he had first asked her to marry him, Mac had been confused and uncertain. Harm had just turned her away, and she needed time to decide what to do next. Mic’s proposal had shocked her, but it had also let her know that she was a desirable woman, and she had needed that reassurance then. She’d told Mic she wasn’t sure, but he’d been patient, convincing her to wear his ring on her right hand until she made up her mind. She had been reluctant, but had eventually agreed. As the months passed, Mac began to appreciate that Mic was a good man who truly loved her. She convinced herself that she could be happy with him, moving his ring to her left hand and finally agreeing to set a wedding date. Looking back on it now, Mac knew that she had allowed herself to be swept away both by Mic’s charm, and by her response to Harm’s painful rejection. Still, it wasn’t until Harm’s plane crashed in the Atlantic Ocean on the night of her rehearsal dinner that she’d realized that she could never be the wife that Mic deserved. Even then she had fought it, trying to convince herself that she could make it work. Mic had been wiser than she, though. He had recognized that her heart belonged to Harm, and he had set her free. Now, standing at his graveside, Mac acknowledged the incredible gift Mic had given her, knowing from her own experience how painful it could be to love someone and let him go. She blinked back tears, and sent a silent thank you winging to the heavens. "ArrrrrrTen SHUN!!!" The drill sergeant’s voice shocked her out of her reverie, and she jerked her head up. The honor guard was preparing for the closing volley. She took a deep breath, and when the rifles cracked, their sound jarring the quiet summer morning, she did not flinch. She continued to stand straight and tall while the bugler played taps and the flag was ceremonially removed, folded, and presented to Mic’s mother. It wasn’t until the crematory doors opened, and the simple unadorned casket began to roll slowly inside, that tears began to slide down Mac’s cheek. Harm seemed to sense her precarious emotional balance, and moved closer, putting a gentle hand on her arm. Mac glanced up at him with a small watery smile and accepted the handkerchief he offered. They watched as the casket slid silently into the darkness. In the final instant before the doors closed, Harm and Mac came to attention and snapped a salute. They stood that way, arms bent sharply at the elbow, hands shielding their eyes, until the doors closed and Mic’s casket disappeared forever. Mac and Harm started toward their rental car, talking quietly about the funeral. They stopped when they saw Captain Howell, recognizing him as Mic’s commanding officer. Both officers saluted the older man, and Captain Howell returned the gesture before leading them away from the departing mourners. "I’m sorry that your trip to our fair country had to come under such tragic circumstances," he said, his Australian accent thick with suppressed sadness. "Me too, Sir," Mac said softly. "Before you leave, I need to speak with you about Commander Brumby. Will you join me for lunch?" Harm and Mac agreed, and soon they were sitting in a small restaurant, enjoying more of Australia’s renowned seafood. While they ate, the three spoke casually about life in Washington, but as they neared the end of the meal, the captain pushed his plate aside and leaned forward. "The last time I spoke with Commander Brumby, he told me something that you should know." Harm and Mac waited, wondering what information the captain could have that they did not already know. "Just before he disappeared, the commander told me that he’d heard a disturbing rumor. It seems part of a shipment of explosives that’d been ordered to enlarge some underground chambers was missing." At these words, Harm and Mac looked at each other in concern. "Is that possible, Sir?" Harm asked. "That’s what I asked the commander," said Captain Howell. "I’m afraid I didn’t take the news as seriously as I should have." He took a sip of his beer. "That was the last I time I spoke with Commander Brumby." He looked from one officer to the other. "I don’t know what kind of hornet’s nest you’re getting into on that base, but I thought you should know everything before you go in." He stood, and Harm and Mac automatically stood, too. "I’ll leave you now. I wish you luck, and I’m deeply sorry for your loss." "Thank you, Sir," Harm and Mac said in near unison. They exchanged another brief salute, and Captain Howell departed, leaving the partners to puzzle over the new information.
1:00 Zulu (10:30 am Local)
When Harm and Mac checked in at their hotel in Alice Springs, the desk clerk handed them a folded piece of paper. Harm opened and scanned it. "Major General Preston wants us for a briefing at Pine Gap in an hour. He’s sending somebody to meet us." "That’s fine," she answered. "I could use a few minutes to freshen up." They finished checking in and found their rooms, stopping outside Harm’s door. "I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes," said Mac, and continued on to her own room. Their rooms were clean and bright, simply decorated and accented with aboriginal art prints. The air felt fresh, and thanks to the air conditioning, blessedly cool. Harm pulled a clean uniform out of his luggage, glad to know that the hotel had a laundry service. He’d need to send a uniform for cleaning after their meeting. Thirty minutes later, Harm and Mac were reviewing the case file when they heard a knock at the door. Harm opened it and returned the salute of the young second lieutenant who stood outside. "I’m Lieutenant Laconi, Sir. General Preston requested that I show you to Pine Gap. If you’re ready, we’ll leave immediately." Picking up the case file and their covers, Harm and Mac followed the dark haired lieutenant to the jeep parked just outside the hotel. Twenty minutes later, Harm and Mac got their first look at Pine Gap. On first inspection the sprawling base, nestled in a broad and shallow valley, resembled any other military base. The eight foot chain link fence topped with razor wire would not have seemed out of place on any of dozens of other bases that Harm and Mac had been to over the years, and all military personnel were familiar with the guard houses and gates that blocked entrance to the grounds. Scattered buildings, most appearing to be warehouses of some type, dotted the landscape. Here, the sense of familiarity ended. The place practically bristled with satellite dishes, radar antennas, and radomes of various sizes. The thing that struck Harm the most, though, was the almost eerie silence. Every military base he’d visited had hummed with activity. People and vehicles were constantly on the move. Here, though, there was none of that. He saw a few people moving about the grounds, but the vehicle he and Mac traveled in appeared to be one of less than a dozen scattered about the base. Webb had said there were nearly a thousand people working here, and Harm couldn’t help but wonder where they were all hiding. He glanced at Mac. She looked as puzzled as he felt. Before he could comment, the jeep pulled to a stop in front of a nondescript building and Lieutenant Laconi got out, coming around to open the doors for Harm and Mac. Never ones to wait on ceremony, they were already out and waiting by the time Laconi reached them, and the three went into the building. "If you’ll wait right here for just a moment, I’ll be right back," Laconi said, already moving toward a large guard desk that dominated the foyer. He spoke with the guard for a moment, and then motioned Harm and Mac over. The guard requested to see their identification, which he carefully inspected, glancing repeatedly back and forth between the id tags and the two officers who stood before him. Finally satisfied that they were who they said they were, he picked up a phone and spoke a few words into it while he reached into a desk drawer. He pulled out two tags and gave one to each of the officers. "These are visitor id’s," said the guard. "We’ve already begun the process to confirm your security clearances. We should have upgraded passes for you before you leave." He handed their military id’s back to them. "Thank you," said Mac. She and Harm attached the visitor badges to their uniform blouses and followed Lieutenant Laconi to a nearby bank of elevators. A few moments later they emerged into a long hallway, and Laconi led them past several closed doors with secured entry keypads on the outsides. The lieutenant eventually showed them into a small conference room, and all three snapped to attention when they saw the two officers who awaited them inside. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie and Commander Harmon Rabb Junior reporting as ordered." "At ease," commanded General Preston, his voice coming from deep within his barrel chest. "Have a seat. Lieutenant, you are dismissed. " "Yes, Sir," answered Laconi, and spun on his heel to leave the room, closing the door quietly behind him. "Colonel, Commander, this is my second in command, Colonel Eaton." Preston indicated the middle aged woman who sat next to him. "Colonel Eaton will be your contact during this investigation." Harm and Mac nodded at the Colonel, who smiled warmly in return. Preston continued. "I assume you’ve been told about the explosives that have come up missing?" Harm and Mac nodded, but it was Harm who spoke. "Yes, Sir. Captain Howell informed us just before we left Sydney." "Then I expect you will want to get started immediately. I will make my staff available to you. Colonel Eaton should be able to answer any questions you might have." He looked closely at Harm and Mac, and they wondered what he was thinking. Then he continued, "I hope you can straighten this mess out for us in short order. Now if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to." Preston’s chair creaked as he stood up. The other officers rose with him, and came to attention, only relaxing slightly after the general had left the room. "Please be seated," said Colonel Eaton in a surprisingly soft voice. "I’m not much for formality." She offered Harm and Mac a glass of cold water, and seemed almost disappointed when they both declined. Then she began her briefing. "This base has been here since 1968. We started with just a couple of buildings and two radomes. Today, we have upwards of 20 buildings, with 26 antennas, 14 of which are enclosed in the protective domes. I’m sure you noticed most of that on your way here." Harm and Mac nodded, and Colonel Eaton continued. "Those antennas receive information from four geo-stationary satellites positioned over the Indian Ocean and Indonesia. They intercept a wide range of microwave transmissions, including mobile telephone, telex, and the Internet. They even locate and intercept signals from mobile radio and radar transmitters. We can actually listen in to Iraq’s military planning sessions. "The heart of the complex is here, underground. This is where we take all of the data collected by all those antennas and feed it into massive computer banks. The computers parse the data - analyzing and classifying it before feeding it back to our technicians, whose job it is to interpret it and identify those pieces that are of interest to our government. General Preston and I review the information collected, and relay it to the appropriate military and government personnel." She paused to take a sip of water. "That’s the incoming portion of our job here. There’s also the other side of the coin." Harm and Mac looked up from their notes. "After we send all that information off to Washington, they take a look at it, and decide what they want to do. Right now, most of what comes back to us relates to targets in Iraq. They tell us what they want to target, and we uplink the coordinates and even program the missiles. Most of the time, though, we’re all about listening and interpreting." She stopped talking and waited for Harm and Mac to finish writing. Then she took some documents out of a file on the table, and handed copies to both attorneys. "You’ll find most of the information I’ve just given you in these briefing materials. There’s also a list of known dissidents who have been to the base within the past five years. I’m afraid it’s a long list, but maybe you will uncover something that will help you in your investigation. And now, if you’ll come with me, I’ll give you a brief tour of the facility." They spent the next two hours touring the base. They started just outside Level A, a completely self-contained cavern buried deep beneath the earth. Colonel Eaton explained that only about twenty people had clearance for this area, which housed the main data banks and memory storage centers. Every piece of information handled on the base came through Level A sooner or later. They took an elevator from Level A up to Level B and entered the main computer complex, a single room so huge that technicians wore headsets that allowed them to contact their peers on the other side of the room. Row after row of computer terminals filled the cavernous room to the bursting point. Huge data screens filled the wall space, and the constant hum of activity forced Harm and Mac to raise their voices. Around the perimeter of the main room there were offices for the command staff. Each office had its own elaborately keyed security system, and only the officer who worked in the office and Level A staff knew the codes. The tour ended in a cafeteria on Level C. The three of them selected sandwiches and bottled water and sat down to eat at a spotless table in a brightly lit corner. Harm couldn’t help noticing that Colonel Eaton was very popular at the base. Several times on their tour they had had to stop so that the colonel could talk to somebody or answer questions. Surprisingly, the conversations often appeared to be personal in nature. Unusual though this was in a military setting, it soon became obvious that the quiet woman was well liked and respected. When the meal neared its end, Colonel Eaton wiped her mouth with her napkin and pushed her chair back. "If you will excuse me, I’ll go check on your id badges," she said. "They should be ready by now. " Harm and Mac started to rise. "No, don’t worry about it. You two stay here and finish your lunch. I won’t be gone long, and as long as you don’t leave the cafeteria, security won’t be a problem. I’ll just be a moment." "Yes, Ma’am," Harm and Mac answered, and sat back down. With a warm smile, Colonel Eaton turned and was gone. "So. What do you think?" Mac asked Harm when the colonel had left. "Impressive," he answered. "I’m not sure what Brumby could have found or how. I haven’t seen any potential security weaknesses that could be exploited by saboteurs, have you?" "No," said Mac. "But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. If these people have somebody on the inside…" She trailed off, thinking of the implications of that remark. Harm whistled softly. "And if that insider didn’t like Mic Brumby…" He stopped, turning his head and sniffing the air. "Do you smell that?" he asked. "What?" asked Mac. "It’s…" he didn’t finish the sentence. His eyes had started watering, and his nasal passages were on fire. Mac began to cough. She looked around for the source of the unpleasant odor. Around them, others were also coughing and looking around. The fumes, whatever they were, burned into Harm’s lungs, and he gasped for breath. Standing, he grabbed Mac’s arm, and the two of them started to work their way toward the nearest door. Mac stumbled, her eyes watering so badly she could hardly see where she was going. Harm put his arm around her waist and the two of them bent low to the floor, searching for fresh air as they continued to make their way toward the emergency exit. The fumes seemed to intensify, and Mac couldn’t catch her breath. Her lungs burned, and her eyes watered, and a strange metallic taste filled her mouth. "Come on, Mac. Stay with me. We’ve got to get out of here," choked Harm. "I…..can’t," she gasped. "Yes, you can, Marine!" he said urgently, alternately pulling and pushing her until they finally reached the exit. The door opened, and strong arms pulled her out of the room. More hands reached for Harm, and they found themselves pulled up the stairs and out of the building into the bright sunshine. Mac collapsed, and Harm caught her just before her head hit the concrete. His own eyes were streaming, and his lungs still burned as he leaned over her. He sighed in relief when he confirmed that she was still breathing. Around them, people were coughing and gasping for air. A few lay on the ground, apparently unconscious. In the distance, sirens wailed. He coughed again, and looked around. "We need help over here," he gasped, his voice weak from the chemicals. "Right away, Sir." Harm was surprised to see Laconi approach. "I’m an EMT, Sir. I can help." "What happened in there?" asked Harm. "I don’t know, Sir. We’re still bringing victims out. Luckily, there weren’t very many people in the cafeteria. We should have them all out soon." Laconi leaned over Mac, and checked her pulse and respiration rate. As he finished, Mac groaned and coughed, then reached up to rub her eyes. Harm caught her hand. "Don’t do that, Mac. You’ll only make it worse," he said, his own eyes still watering. Mac rolled to her side, and sat up. Harm reached to steady her, but she refused his help, every inch the angry Marine. Harm suspected that when Mac figured out who was responsible for this, that person was going to regret it. "I think she’s going to be ok, Sir, " said Laconi, "but you both need to get checked out at the Alice Springs Hospital. I don’t know what that stuff was, but you don’t want it eating away at your lungs." "Thank you, Lieutenant, we’ll do that," Harm answered. "Ummm… how do we get there?" "No problem, Sir. Ambulances are on their way for the people who are critical. Everybody else can ride the bus." Harm looked up to see two buses approaching from the north. Two hours later, their strange day ended back at the Outback Motor Lodge. Their eyes had been flushed at the hospital, and Mac had had to undergo a chest x-ray to check for lung damage. They’d been sent back to the hotel with strict orders to rest for 24 hours and were now in Harm’s room. Colonel Eaton had shown up at the hospital, full of apologies and concern. Apparently, somebody had introduced a concentrated mixture of sodium hypo-chloride and ammonia to the air conditioning system. The resulting fumes had been pumped throughout Level C. Luckily few of the injuries were serious and most would recover within twenty-four hours. "How do you feel?" asked Harm, as Mac stretched out on the bed and rested her arm across her eyes. "Like I’ve swallowed hot coals," she answered. "I guess that answers our question." "Which question?" "Now we know for sure that somebody inside has to be involved." Harm agreed. "I’m glad Colonel Eaton thought to bring another set of those briefing papers to the hospital for us. I want to go over them again…see if anything jumps out at us." "General Preston is probably desperate to sort this out before things get any worse," said Mac. "It’s never a good idea to keep a two star waiting," said Harm, pulling the papers toward him where he sat at the small table. "Let’s see what we have." He scanned the list and his eyes widened. He let out a low whistle. "What?" asked Mac, her eyes still closed. "There must be three hundred names here." Mac sat up at that. "That’ll take us forever. There must be some way to narrow it down." She rubbed her eyes and came over to where Harm sat. "Here, let’s split the list. Maybe something will click." Harm handed her the first two pages of the list, and she sat down, reading through the names and addresses and waiting for inspiration to strike. "Webb told us that there was some kind of demonstration out here last year, right?" Harm finally asked. "Right," Mac nodded. "After that, things were quiet," Harm went on. "Right again," Mac said, not sure where Harm was going with this. "And this latest batch of problems started recently, right?" he said. "Yes," Mac said, checking her notes, "about 3 months ago. Why?" "I know it’s a long shot, but what if we correlate our lists? I wonder how many people are on Colonel Eaton’s list and also on Webb’s list. And of those, how many were in town when the incidents occurred? Once we get there, we can look for people who have access to the base." "Sounds like a plan," said Mac. "Where’s that list Webb gave us?" Harm handed it to her. They worked steadily for two hours, stopping only when the fading afternoon forced them to turn on a light. When they finished, they had seventeen names that fit their profile. It was a big improvement over the hundreds of names they had started with, and they were satisfied with their work. Mac stood and stretched, working the kinks out of her back. "We should get these names to Bud," said Harm, as he reached for the telephone. "He might be able to get us some more information." Mac reached out, stopping Harm from picking up the phone. He raised an eyebrow at her. "It’s 4:30 in the morning back home, Harm. I don’t think Bud’s at work yet." Harm chuckled. "You’re probably right. I guess we’d better wait a while." "Let’s eat. I’m starving," said Mac, earning a grin from her partner. "Go figure," he said. "Hey!" she laughed. "That was uncalled for." "I know." But he wasn’t apologetic. "True, though." "Whatever." Mac grabbed her purse. "Let’s go." She didn’t wait to see if he was behind her as she left the room. Harm chuckled and hurried to follow. It was good to see her laugh again. Two hours later, they returned to the room. They stopped outside Harm’s door. "If you want to get some sleep, I’ll check in with Bud and the admiral," offered Harm. "I am tired," said Mac. "You’re sure you don’t mind?" "Positive," he confirmed. "We’ll start the interviews tomorrow morning. There’s nothing more we can do tonight." "O.K.," she conceded - a sure sign that she was still feeling the effects of their earlier adventure. When she had closed her door, Harm went into his own room and picked up the telephone. "Chegwidden," came the familiar voice, amazingly clear despite the thousands of miles that separated Alice Springs and Falls Church. "Admiral, it’s Commander Rabb," "Rabb, do you have a status report for me?" Harm told him about Brumby’s funeral, their meeting with Captain Howell, and about his early impressions of Pine Base. He ended with the incident in the cafeteria earlier in the afternoon. "Sounds like things are heating up down there," said the admiral, when Harm had finished. "What are your plans?" "Well, Sir, we’ve got a list of people we want to interview. We’ll start first thing tomorrow morning." Harm picked up the list he and Mac had come up with. "Admiral, is Bud in? I’d like him to check out some of these names – see if he comes up with anything that might help us out." "He’s here. I’ll switch you over. Keep me posted." "Yes, Sir." Harm said, and heard the click that indicated he was being transferred. A moment later, he heard Bud’s voice. "It’s good to hear from you, Sir," said Bud. "The admiral told us about Commander Brumby. Is Colonel Mackenzie ok?" "She’s fine, Bud. Listen, I need you to do me a favor." Harm went on to explain what they were doing, ending by giving him the list of names. "I’ll get started on these right away," said Bud. "Is there anything else I can do?" Harm thought about that for a minute, and decided to trust his instincts. "Yes, one more thing." "Sir?" "Mac and I have a feeling that somebody on the inside of that base is involved in this. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d appreciate it if you’d run a check on the command staff. See if anything pops up that sets off alarms." "Yes, Sir, right away." "Thanks, Bud. I’d appreciate it if you could get back to me as soon as possible." "Yes, Sir. I’ll get right on it." Bud hesitated. Then, "Sir, will you tell Colonel Mackenzie we’re thinking about her?" "I’ll do that," said Harm. He ended the conversation and hung up. Time to get some sleep.
Beauty and the Beast Collection
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