JAG: Sarah Ch. 03

Sarah began to puff gently between her lips...small quick breaths...trying desperately to regain control of her body and mind.

She had to tell him that even though it was hard...she couldn't live without him. That the brief times they were able to share were worth more than most people had in a lifetime. She needed to let him know that no matter where he went, or for how long...she would always be waiting. Like him...she had no choice...he was her life.

She wanted to say so much...needed to say so much...but the words refused to come.

In desperation, she pressed her lips to his, hoping against hope that her unspoken message was clear, that he indeed heard the words she was unable to say.

"Sarah...my sweet Sarah," he breathed, his voice trembling with emotion. "How could I have lived without you..."

He'd heard.

Same Day
John's Home in Courthouse Bay
Later that afternoon.

Silently, Sarah looked at the small packet of birth control pills in her hand...20 pink...7 blue...1 empty...all that stood between her and the child she so desperately wanted. She gazed again at the small pink tablet in her palm, hating the very touch of it. Angrily, she threw it into the sink and washed it from her view. It was time to talk to John.

Her heart pounding, she walked back into the bedroom at Courthouse Bay and slid into bed beside her lover.

Warm in the afterglow of their lovemaking...the first in six months... John tugged her against him, enfolding her in his arms. Gently, as though to reassure himself that she was really there, he began to stroke the softness of her shoulders, the bare line of her back. Tenderly, he reached down and took her hand in his, attempting to raise her palm to his lips...but it was already filled.

"What's this?" he questioned, a dim wariness growing in the pit of his stomach.

Sarah opened her hand and let the small packet drop to the firm planes of his chest.

"What do you have here," he asked, knowing full well what her answer would be. "birth control pills?"

"John, please...can't we talk about this?" she pleaded. "I know how YOU feel, but I need to make you understand how I feel..."

"Sarah..."

"No, John. Let me talk." she said, touching her fingertip to his lips. "I have to say this. I have to make you hear me."

The look in her eyes was more than he could bear. This was no idle request...it came from deep within her being.

Mutely, he cupped her chin in his hand, his thumb stroking the soft contours of her cheek, and waited for her to continue.

"John...I want a baby."

There. She's said it. The words that had once filled her mind were now free to find a home in the great world beyond...free to blossom and grow in her lover's heart, or die an unanswered death in the silence of the room.

"I know how you feel, my love. I know that you don't want to leave me and your child alone while you put your life on the line half way around the world...but I can't agree."

Silently, she placed his hand on her abdomen. "John...I want to feel you here. I want to know that part of you is growing inside of me. I want to know that no matter what happens, there will always be this bond between us, linking us...connecting us...even though we're thousands of miles apart. I want to give you a gift that no other woman could ever give you...our child."

John felt her body, warm against his palm, and stared deeply into her eyes.

"This means that much to you, Sarah?"

She nodded, pressing his palm once more against her womb.

Hesitantly, John removed his hand and picked up the small packet that still lay on his chest, his eyes misting with an emotional intensity that filled his soul.

"Are you sure about this, Sarah? Are you very sure?"

Again, she nodded.

"Then so am I, my love."

And so, flexing his wrist, he sent the small packet sailing through the air, deep into the waste basket on the other side of the room.

"Let's make a baby, my love..."

November 7, 1994
Bachelor Officer's Quarters
Marine Corps Base Quantico

She was alone again.

As though trapped in a never-ending cycle, John had once more slung his duffel over his shoulder and headed for the New River Air Station for his current deployment.

This time, however, he had left Sarah with new hope, a bright shining promise of new life...the possibility of a child.

Their passion had taken on a new intensity during the previous week. The thought that each coupling of their bodies could spell the beginning of a new life, made each joining magical and unique. Each time they made love...each time she felt him deep inside of her, she wondered..."will this be the time?"

Pensively, she stroked her stomach. "Let it be," she prayed..."Let it be."

But fate was against it. Two weeks later, Sarah felt the onset of her monthly cycle, and knew that her brief romance with motherhood was over.

Alone in her apartment...alone in her life, Sarah sobbed into the emptiness until there were no more tears to shed, and the ache within her had settled into a familiar pattern.

How could she tell John?

Once he'd embraced the idea, he'd become positively obsessed with the thought of becoming a father. He'd begun watching her with a strange little half-smile on his face, as though wondering what their child would look like. Would he have her dark, bedroom eyes? Would she be blond, as he had been in his youth. Would he have to fend the lotharios off of his porch to keep his precious daughter from falling under the spell of some itchy little Marine private? They'd talked about so much...shared so much...and now she would have to tell him that it had all come to naught.

My poor, sweet John, she thought...it was hard enough on her, but he would have to endure the loss far from home, under fire in the sweltering jungles of Haiti.

It would be an impossible letter to write, but it had to be done.

Cpt. Sarah MacKenzie
#213 BOQ
MCB Quantico
Quantico, Virginia

Nov. 23, 1994

My Dearest Love,

I wish I could think of another way to tell you my news. I wish I could be there to hold you and whisper it in your ear, to kiss the frown that I know will form between your eyes, and lay your head upon my breast as we console one another. But we have become two more casualties of this revolution, and I can't be with you at this moment.

My Darling, it seems that we were not meant to have a child at this time.

Maybe it was foolish of me to plan one now, with you so far away, and me still finishing law school. But the heart is not a bastion of reasonable thought, and it appears that powers greater than us have had to take the decision out of our hands.

I am consoled by the thought that neither this revolution nor law school will last forever. The thought of our creating a new life still fills me with hope, and as always, I long for your safe return.

Be brave, my love...be safe...come home.

All my love, Sarah

January 22, 1995
Central Campus Apts.
Duke University

The holidays had been painful.

All around her she felt the warmth of the season...the glow of familial love...but not for her.

Sarah had spent her Christmas alone in her apartment on campus, her internship completed, and the apartment complex empty as thousands of students traveled home for the holidays.

Though she'd written to John every day, nothing could compensate for his absence, and the loneliness she felt became a haunting projection of him, far away in the brutal jungles of a foreign land.

It was with great relief that she once again resumed her studies on campus. At long last, her final semester was at hand. Customizing her coursework toward military application, Sarah was taking an Individualized Course, focussing this time on the area of international jurisdictional disputes in the prosecution of American military personal abroad. With so much strife in the world, she felt that this was a critical area of legal study for a military lawyer.

Then, on February 17, two letters arrived in the mail. The first, a letter from John, she opened immediately. Memorizing each word, she began to devour its contents.

He was coming home!

The 22nd MEU was to relieve John's unit on the 20th of February, and they would be home soon after.

The second envelope lay forgotten on the countertop, as Sarah read John's letter again and again, the words filling her eyes with tears, and her heart with joy.

Then, finally placing it aside, she noticed the last of her mail lying on the counter.

Her breath caught in her throat. It had an official Marine Corps seal. Could something have happened to John?

Trembling, she carefully slit the top and removed the single sheet from within. It wasn't about John. It was about her. She had just received her post-graduation assignment.

As of April 30, 1995, Sarah would be posted as the legal officer to the 29th Marine Fighter Attack Squadron, in Aviano, Italy...a unit assigned to aerial reconnaissance over Bosnia..

March 5, 1995
John Farrow's Home
Courthouse Bay
Camp Lejeune, N.C.

John was home at last.

Though her final semester was rapidly coming to a close, and "moot court" was just around the corner, Sarah had packed her books and was waiting as usual when her lover walked through the door.

He looked tired, the gleam in his bright, blue eyes dulled by fatigue. The holocaust of war was taking its toll...he needed rest.

Their love-making, hurried and aggressive during past reunions, was now gentle and prolonged, as though to make each moment last an eternity.

Affected by the memory of the atrocities he'd witnessed in Bosnia and Haiti, John wrapped his arms protectively around his beloved, drawing her close to his body, shielding her from the horrors that still claimed his consciousness.

"I see you brought your books along this time." he observed, glancing at her book-bag lying on the dresser. "Less than two months now, Sarah, and you'll be done. You must be excited."

"I am, John. Of course I am, but there's something we should talk about."

"Is it about the baby? If it is...you won't have to convince me again...I want a baby as much as you do. After what I've seen in Bosnia and Haiti...maybe more. There has to be an affirmation of life somewhere. I'd like it to start with us."

"John...that's just it...we can't start a baby now."

He looked puzzled. Had she given up on them finally?

"John...I just received my orders. I've been assigned to join the 29th Marine Aircraft Wing as their legal liaison on April 30th.

John bolted upright, his face stern, his body tense.

"That's a Bosnian reconnaissance unit, Sarah! It may be in Italy, but their active deployment area is the no-fly zone over Bosnia! You can't go!"

It wasn't a request...it was an order...and it didn't sit well.

"What do you mean...I 'can't go'. You said it yourself a dozen times over...this isn't a choice. I didn't ask for this assignment, but now that it's been made, I HAVE to go."

"Sarah...you don't. I can fix it. I have connections... important people 'owe' me. I could have you reassigned to Lejeune...or Quantico if you like, but not Bosnia!"

"John," she began, knowing full well what he was going through, "you never used your connections to keep YOURSELF out of harm's way. I can't let you 'pull strings' for me either. The Corps has given me everything...a new life...I have obligations just like you do. How can you tell me not to go?"

Frantically, John pulled on his pants and began to pace the floor.

"Sarah..." he began, desperately searching for the words that would dissuade her. "You don't know what you're saying! I know that as 'support personnel' you won't be in the line of fire, but sometimes things happen...people end up where they're not supposed to be. I can't risk that. You don't know what it's like over there..."

"John...I know as much as any other Marine assigned to combat duty. There's no difference...unless you think that sleeping with an MEU Colonel makes me exempt!"

It was a low blow...and it hurt. But she was right. She was going to make a great lawyer...she'd already won THIS case.

John sank into a chair on the far side of the room, his eyes glued to her determined features. Futilely, he searched for an argument that would keep her home...keep her safe. But there was none. As the life-blood drained from his face, he accepted defeat. Sarah was going to war.

May 1, 1995
Aviano Air Base, Italy

Sarah stepped off of the transport beneath the bright, blue skies of northern Italy. All around her she could see the F-18 "Hornets" gearing up for their daily runs into the "no-fly" zone of Bosnia. She was truly here. This was war.

A young Marine corporal met her at the gate.

"Captain MacKenzie, Ma'am?" he saluted. "I'm corporal Simpson, Ma'am. I've been assigned to help get you 'squared away, and deliver you to Colonel Clemens' office ASAP, Ma'am."

Mac returned the salute, then allowed the corporal to stow her gear in the back of his Jeep for the ride to her quarters.

The airstrip at Aviano was similar to the one at New River, and probably similar to American military airstrips everywhere. Silently, Sarah gazed at the departure gate, remembering her parting moments with John at the New River terminal at Camp Lejeune.

He'd been upset, but that was predictable. He'd been hurt, but that was understandable. He'd been desperate...but that wasn't like him.

John had spent the better part of their last few weeks together trying to find new ways to undermine her resolve. The issue had become insurmountable...they'd quarreled often and loudly, but Sarah had remained strong. She'd had to adjust to John's deployments...and now it was his turn. She had a job to do, and she was going to do it. They'd parted badly.

Now, thousands of miles from home, Sarah wished he could be there to drown her insecurities in the deep, liquid blue of his eyes, the warm security of his embrace. But it was time to stand on her own two feet.

Quickly, she dropped her gear off at the BOQ and was driven to headquarters to meet her new commanding officer, Colonel Josh Clemens.

Firmly she tapped on the outer door to Colonel Clemens' office.

"Enter." responded the voice from within.

"Captain MacKenzie, reporting for duty, Sir!" Mac saluted.

"At ease, Captain. Take a seat."

"Yes Sir, thank you, Sir."

Colonel Josh Clemens was a trim, vigorous-looking man in his mid-forties. Though his smile was contagious, he was obviously a man who knew how to command.

Mac lowered herself into a nearby chair, her initial assessment of her new C.O. a positive one.

"Captain, I wanted to let you know what our legal requirements are, for you, right off the bat. We've needed a new legal officer for quite a while, so you'll have your work cut out for you."

"Yes Sir," Mac replied. I'm more than ready to go, Sir."

"First off, did you know that I requested you specifically for this assignment, Captain?"

"No Sir, I wasn't aware of that, Sir." Mac replied, puzzled.

"Well, I did, Captain. Your recent work on international jurisdictional disputes is sorely needed here. I felt you were the best 'man' for the job. Was I right?"

"Yes Sir! I'll do my best, Sir." she replied, confused that he should feel it necessary to confirm her devotion to duty.

"The reason I ask, Captain, is because I received a personal communiqué from an old friend this morning...Colonel John Farrow. I assume you're familiar with him?"

Mac frowned, her voice strained and distraught. "Yes, Sir. I know Colonel Farrow."

"Yes...well, Colonel Farrow apparently has some reservations about you're being here. He asked that I take personal responsibility for your welfare while in my chain of command."

Mac sat silently, her demeanor tense and stricken.

"Captain...let me be blunt. I'm not in the habit of treating my Marines like children. Is there something that I should be aware of here?"

"Colonel. May I speak freely, Sir?"

"Proceed, by all means, Captain."

"Sir, With all due respect, Colonel Farrow was out of line in requesting special treatment in my case. I neither expect nor require it, Sir. You would be doing me a great service if you would disregard that communiqué, Sir."

Wordlessly, Clemens assessed his new legal officer. So that was it, he rightly concluded. After all this time, John Farrow had finally met a woman he couldn't let go of, and it was eating him up.

"Consider it done, Captain." he replied, satisfied with her response. "Now...on to more important matters. You're aware that our current mission is reconnaissance over the no-fly zone in Bosnia?"

"Yes Sir, I know that, Sir."

Clemens nodded, handing her a large stack of dossiers. "Many of these, Captain, involve supposedly civilian complaints from Bosnian Serbs concerning altercations with Marine military within the boundaries of Bosnia. I suspect that most of them are nothing more than a legal effort to undermine our intervention in this war, but that's what I need you to find out."

Mac scanned the folders in her hands. "But Sir, some of this is written in Serbian. My exposure to that language is extremely limited. Is there someone on base who would be able to translate?"

"Yes, we have a number of translators and language instructors who can be of service initially. But since you may be required to enter secured areas within Bosnia to gather information and speak to witnesses, in the long run your effectiveness will be limited unless you yourself become acquainted with the language."

"I understand that you currently speak Russian, Farsi and Japanese."

"Yes Sir, that's correct, Sir,"

"Your obvious language facility was another reason for my request. That's why I've assigned a tutor to work with you. He assures me, that with your background you should be able to master the rudiments in short order, Captain. Do you agree."

"Yes sir, I'll do my best, Sir."

"Very well, then. Is there anything you need, Captain...any word you'd like me to pass along to Colonel Farrow?"

"No Sir," she replied, "None."

"Good. You're dismissed. Keep me informed of your progress."

"Yes Sir!" Mac saluted. Then, gathering her massive case load in her arms, she retreated to her quarters to begin sorting through the stack.

May 5, 1995
John Farrow's Office
Camp Lejeune, N.C.

"Colonel Farrow here."

"Hello. John? It's Josh Clemens...returning your call."

"Josh! It's about time! How is everything?"

"If you mean 'how is Sarah MacKenzie', she's fine."

John paused. "Yeah...I guess that IS what I mean. How's she doing, Josh?"

"According to my reports, she doing very well. She's already begun on a number of English-language-based cases, and her tutor tells me that he's never seen anyone pick up Serbian as quickly. She's a real asset."

"Serbian? Why do you have her studying Serbian?" You're in Italy!"

"John...most of these jurisdictional disputes occurred in Bosnia. She can't stay in Italy forever. Eventually, she's going to have to go on in."

"You're sending her into Bosnia!!"

"Hey...hey, calm down. As a non-combatant, she'll only be allowed into secured areas. You know that."

The phone remained silent as John digested this latest bit of information.

"John?" Clemens prodded, "you still there?"

"Yeah...I'm here."

"I think you need to 'lighten up', John. This woman is a Marine Captain, and she appears to be a good one. All she wants is a chance to do her job. I plan to let her do just that."

"Yeah...I know." he affirmed, his voice flat and impassive.

"And John...just so you know...I told her about your communiqué. She wasn't pleased. She said that she neither 'expects not requires' special treatment. That's from the horse's mouth, John. I think maybe you underestimate her."

"Maybe, Josh, maybe. To be honest, I'm not sure who I'm trying to protect more...her or me."