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#902 : Sables mouvants

La femme d'un bédouin est identifiée comme étant Alison LaPorte, un second-maître, disparue depuis 1991 lors de la guerre du Golfe et qui se trouve être la fille d'un amiral.  Alison est accusée de désertion et Bud est chargé de sa défense.

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4.33 - 3 votes

Titre VO
Shifting Sands

Titre VF
Sables mouvants

Première diffusion
03.10.2003

Plus de détails

Réalisateur: Jeannot Szwarc
Scénariste: Dana Coen

0725 ZULU
AL-MUNTASSIR, IRAQ
 
A small figure clad in a black burqua travels through a thick storm of sand and heavy winds in the Iraqi desert.  The figure finds a portion of an old stone gate and crouches behind it, peering over the top at a US military truck.  Seeing no one around, the figure hurries over to the truck.  Upon making it there, the figure rifles through the back amidst medical supplies and pulls out two small bottles of Doxycycline. 
 
She begins putting things back when a gloved hand reaches up and grabs her wrist, taking the antibiotics from her grasp.  She gasps.
 
Inside the compound, a corpsman gives a small girl a shot.  The officer who caught the woman in black, brings her inside.  He addresses the corpsman.
 
Officer: This one thought your equipment locker was a drugstore.
 
The officer hands the corpsman the vials of medicine, as the freshly vaccinated child is led away.  The corpsman glances at the labels.
 
Corpsman: Doxycycline?
 
He looks up at her and speaks to her in Iraqi.
 
Corpsman: This is in English.  How do you know which medication to pick?
 
She remains silent, peering at the corpsman through the small slit in her black headdress.  The corpsman rises and steps closer to her, still speaking in Arabic.
 
Corpsman: Remove your headdress.
 
Woman: It is against my religion.
 
The corpsman gestures to the officer to remove her headdress.  The officer  advances toward her with his hand outstretched.  She takes a step back and begins reluctantly removing her headdress.  When she has completed her task, it is revealed by her blonde hair and green eyes, that she is caucasian.  The corpsman questions her in English for the first time.
 
Corpsman: Who are you?
 
Officer: I think I can answer that one.
 
The officer extracts a small bunch of plastic cards bound with a silver ring, and flips through them.
 
Officer: Petty Officer Allison La Porte.  Navy Corpsman.  MIA since February, 20th ... 1991.
 
La Porte: I never liked that photo.
 
 
2119 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
JUNE 5, 2003
 
 
The admiral is pacing in his office, with an opened file in hand.  Bud stands before his desk.
 
AJ: Lieutenant, how's your memory of the Gulf War?
 
Bud: Foggy, sir.  Uh, given all that's happened in the region since.
 
AJ peers at Bud over his reading glasses.
 
AJ: You recall a missing Petty Officer by the name of Allison La Porte?
 
Bud shakes his head.
 
Bud: No, sir.
 
AJ: Fell out of a medevac helo over southern Iraq.  Was 22 at the time.  A hot LZ, couldn't find her until yesterday, when she was caught attempting to steal antibiotics from a corpsman in the village of, uh...
 
He peers at the file.
 
AJ: Al-Muntassir.
 
Bud: That's remarkable, sir.  Did she explain how she was able to survive for 12 years?
 
AJ: As a Bedouin.  Joined a nomadic tribe and married its sheik.
 
Bud: Willingly, sir?
 
AJ: Well, that's for you to find out. 
 
AJ hands the file to Bud, and seats himself.
 
AJ: I'm authorizing a JAGMAN investigation to Camp Babylon in southern Iraq.
 
Bud: You're sending me, sir?
 
AJ: Got a problem with that?
 
Bud: Uh, no, sir.  I ... uh ... it's just that I'm used to senior staff riding point on international investigations, sir.
 
AJ: Have you noticed much senior staff in your recent travels around the office, Lieutenant?
 
Bud: Commander Turner, sir, and isn't Colonel Mackenzie expected back?
 
AJ: Turner's plate's full.  Mac needs time to catch up.
 
Bud: What's Commander Rabb's status, sir?
 
AJ: Are you up for this, Lieutenant?
 
Bud straightens himself.
 
Bud: Yes, sir.
 
AJ: What the hell is the problem?
 
Bud: Nothing, sir.
 
AJ: Good.  'Cause I'm giving you one.  Petty Officer La Porte's father is rear admiral Richard La Porte.  Deputy Director of Naval Intelligence.
 
Bud's eyes widen.
 
 
BULLPEN
 
 
Clapping is heard.  The staff is gathered in the bullpen. 
 
Harriet gives Tiner a kiss on the cheek.
 
Tiner: Thanks.
 
Harriet: Congratulations.
 
Mac and Harm arrive, smiling.
 
Harm: Thank you.
 
Mac looks at him and rolls her eyes.  They walk up to the group.
 
Harm: Would've been nicer if you'd have met us at the airport, but...
 
Laughter ripples through the room.  Harriet greets the two officers.
 
Harriet: Hey, sir ... ma'am!
 
Sturgis: Welcome back.
 
Sturgis shakes Harm's hand.
 
Harriet: What happened down there, sir?  The rumors were intense.
 
Harm: That's classified, Lieutenant.  At least, till we sell off the movie rights.
 
Mac: So, what's the occasion?
 
Sturgis: It is Tiner's last day.  He's checking out.
 
Harm: Say it isn't so, Tiner.
 
Tiner: I was accepted at officer candidate school, sir.
 
Mac: Wow!  Will you be coming back?
 
Tiner: Naval Justice School directly after, ma'am.
 
Mac: We'll miss you, Tiner.
 
Mac gives Tiner a hug.
 
Mac: Mmm.
 
Harm: Well, congratulations.
 
They shake hands.
 
Tiner: Thank you, Commander.
 
Harm: Who's your replacement?
 
Coates smiles.
 
Coates: I am, sir.
 
Tiner: The Admiral's appointed Coates his new admin assistant, sir.
 
Harm glances at Mac.
 
Harm: How long have we been gone, anyway?
 
Mac: Well, you know, the Earth doesn't stop spinning just because you've left the room.
 
Harm smiles at her.
 
Bud: That's not what he tells me.  Good to see you back.
 
Bud grins and limps up to stand next to Harriet.
 
Mac: Likewise, Lieutenant.
 
Bud: Although, now I'm leaving.
 
Harriet: You are?
 
Bud: The admiral has assigned me unassisted on a JAGMAN investigation in Iraq.
 
Harm: Good for you, Bud.
 
Mac: Yeah, way to go, Bud.
 
Sturgis: Good luck, Lieutenant.
 
Harm eyes Sturgis, who seems to be a bit disgruntled at Bud's news.
 
Bud: Commander, what's the deal with your military status?
 
Harm: Well, that'll be up to the Admiral to decide.
 
 
ADMIRAL'S OFFICE
 
 
The Admiral hears a knock on his door, while working at his desk.
 
AJ: Enter.
 
Mac and Harm enter and stand before the admiral.  The admiral stands and comes around his desk.
 
AJ: Mac, you alright?
 
Mac: Yes, sir.
 
AJ: Good.  Glad to have you back.
 
Mac: Permission to return to my duties?
 
AJ: Granted.
 
Harm: May I be granted the same, sir?
 
AJ: Rabb, you, uh, you resigned your commission.
 
Harm: Well, I submitted my paperwork....
 
AJ: And I shot I up through the chain of command to the CNP the next morning.  You've been a civilian for the last...
 
He glances at a piece of paper laying on his desk.
 
AJ: ...72 hours.
 
He hands the paper to Harm.  Harm stares at it.
 
AJ: What?  You thought I was gonna sit on it?
 
Mac: That's what you did when I left, sir.
 
The Admiral sighs.
 
Harm: Admiral, I....
 
AJ: I'm not your admiral.  I'm your former commanding officer.
 
Mac addresses the admiral in disbelief.
 
Mac: Sir, he saved my life.
 
AJ: Well, put him on your payroll!
 
Mac stares at the admiral with her mouth ajar.
 
AJ: Mac, I am glad to see you.  But, I am equally fed up with this man's lack of dependability.  You know, Rabb, you're not a team player.  You never consider the big picture, and you are completely controlled by your emotions.
 
Harm looks down at the ground.
 
Harm: Can't argue with that, sir.
 
AJ: So, you need to go find something that allows you that independence.  Drive a cab, wrestle alligators ... Hell, I don't know.
 
Mac: He's been like this for years, Admiral.  Why now?
 
Harm: Because, the Admiral has finally accepted the fact that I'm unchangeable, Mac.  As you have.  I have, uh ... a few things left to gather, sir. 
 
Harm: I'll be out within the hour.
 
The admiral nods.  And Harm leaves.  Mac stands there before the Admiral's desk.
 
AJ: That'll be all, Colonel.
 
Mac comes to attention.
 
Mac: Yes, sir.
 
She turns and leaves the office.  Tiner walks into the admiral's office, as she exits. 
 
Tiner: Excuse me, Admiral.  I'm all checked out, sir, so I was hoping, if it's all right with you....
 
AJ: No, no, Tiner.  You're not securing early.
 
Tiner: Yes, sir.
 
AJ: You're gonna have a seat. Sit.
 
The admiral gestures to a chair in front of his desk.  Tiner seats himself, and the admiral sits next to him.
 
Tiner: Yes, sir.
 
AJ: I'm gonna talk to you about your future in the Navy, and tell you why you're gonna make a damn better lawyer than a yeoman.
 
Tiner: Yes, sir.
 
 
HARM'S OFFICE
 
 
Harm places a box on top of another on his desk.  He grabs his cover from the naked shelf and walks out of his office.
 
Harm: Hey, Tiner.
 
Tiner: Sir?
 
Tiner smiles.  Harm throws his cover to Tiner.
 
Harm: For when you make Commander.  Hope it'll bring you a little better luck than it brought me, huh.
 
Tiner looks at the cover in surprise.  Everyone in the bullpen is silent, as they watch this take place.  Mac, who stands by her office door, glances at Tiner, down at the ground, and back to Tiner.
 
 
0446 ZULU
CAMP BABYLON
AL-HILLAH, IRAQ
 
 
Bud travels in the passenger side of a humvee, glancing around the dusty surroundings.
 
Man: Halt.
 
The man checks their papers.  A sheik and several Bedouin gaze at the newcomers.
 
Man: Proceed.
 
 
JAG HQ
 
 
Coates places something on her new desk, once belonging to Tiner.
 
AJ: Settled in, Coates?
 
Coates: Just about, sir.
 
AJ: Well, don't feel you have to stay around for me.  Leave when you want.
 
Coates: I should probably eat something, sir.
 
The admiral responds, still absorbed in the file he's holding.
 
AJ: By all means.
 
Coates grabs her cover.
 
Coates: Although, sir, I haven't been that hungry since Commander Rabb announced he won't be returning to JAG.  The Commander's the one most responsible for turning me around, sir.  I'm sure you had good reasons for your actions, sir, but I'm wondering whether it wasn't counter-productive, given what he's contributed to this office, sir.
 
AJ: Unsolicited opinions are not part of the job description, Petty Officer.
 
Coates: Understood, sir.  I will, from this point on, phrase my support for the Commander in question form only.
 
The admiral glances back up at her, and takes off his reading glasses.
 
AJ: And neither is insubordination.
 
Coates: Yes, sir.  I apologize.  Goodnight, sir.
 
Coates begins to leave, her cover tucked under her arm.
 
AJ: Goodnight, Tiner.
 
Coates turns back to the admiral.
 
Coates: I'm not Tiner, sir.
 
She then turns and walks off into the darkened bullpen.
 
AJ: No, you're not.
 
 
IRAQ
 
 
Bud sits interviewing Petty Officer La Porte under a tent.
 
La Porte: Half the tribe contracted leptospirosis from drinking contaminated water.  As a former corpsman, I knew how to help them.
 
Bud: I don't understand.  Why didn't you ask for assistance instead of trying to steal the meds?
 
La Porte: Distrust.  We reject the modern world.  It's never served us.  Since the black days, some Bedouin have taken to living close to the cities.  They even rent trucks to transport their animals.  Not our tribe.  Our roots go back too far.
 
Bud: What are the black days?
 
La Porte: Ten years ago, Saddam began a wave of oppression against the Bedouin.  First, he banned us from wandering into Kuwait.  Which cut us off from our relatives.  Then he conscripted our teenage sons into the army, and those who deserted were caught and executed.  The worst, though, was when he diverted the rivers to keep water from resistance forces in the South.  Water is our source of life.
 
Bud: So, how did you come to live with the tribe?
 
La Porte: I had been stuck in a ravine for three days watching the rescue helos pass overhead.  The Al-Hadi tribe found me, pulled me out, and brought me back to their camp.  Now, I knew my pelvis was fractured, but I did not speak Arabic, so I could not tell them what was wrong. 
 
It took me months to heal.  During that time, the son of the tribe's sheik took an interest in me.  I liked his name, Jamal Bin Fahad.  We communicated solely by playing shesh-besh - backgammon.  Which he had never done with a woman before.  It's a good way to learn about someone.
 
By the end of that year I had fallen in love with him.  I embraced the Muslim faith, and I took the name 'Hiba', which means gift.  We married, but were never able to have children.  Probably because of my injury.  Two years ago, my husband's father passed the leadership of the tribe over to him.  I am now a sheik's wife.
 
Bud: So, you see yourself as a Bedouin?
 
La Porte: Correct.
 
Bud: Can I assume that's why you're not using military courtesy in my presence?
 
La Porte: Do you feel disrespected, Lieutenant?
 
Bud: Let's move on.  Why did you choose to stay with them?
 
La Porte: Because they are good-hearted, nonjudgmental people.
 
Bud: Well, but, you didn't try at any point to contact Coalition Forces to let them know that you were still alive?
 
La Porte shakes her head.
 
La Porte: No.  The sanctions began soon after.  I never saw another Western face, until the invasion in April.
 
Bud: What?  You didn't wander into any villages or cities in your travels, where you could've sent a letter explaining to your family?
 
La Porte: My family lives in Iraq.
 
 
JAG HQ
ADMIRAL'S OFFICE
 
 
Admiral La Porte: I'm an analyst by nature, used to sorting out complex events, but AJ, this one's got me spinning.
 
Admiral La Porte seats himself.  Bud and the admiral follow suit.
 
Admiral La Porte: I was in Planning and Operations when she disappeared.  Made three trips to Kuwait.  Marshaled whatever resources were at my disposal.  We, uh...
 
Admiral La Porte shakes his head.
 
Admiral La Porte: ...We just couldn't find her.
 
He leans forward, toward Bud.
 
Admiral La Porte: Does she have an issue with me?
 
Bud glances at the admiral, and then to admiral La Porte.
 
Bud: To be honest, sir, your name didn't come up.
 
AJ: I asked you here because the convening authority has reached a decision based on the Lieutenant's findings.
 
Bud: He's authorized an Article 32, sir.  The charge is Desertion.
 
AJ: We're transporting her here to Washington.  I've assigned the Lieutenant to prosecute.
 
Admiral La Porte rises from his chair.
 
Admiral La Porte: Well, I appreciate the briefing, Admiral.
 
AJ: I promise you this, I'll do everything I can to ensure a fair process.
 
Admiral La Porte: As far as I'm concerned, you can lock her up right now.
 
Admiral La Porte turns and leaves.
 
 
0118 ZULU
KRESGE MEDICAL CENTER
PIMMIT HILLS, VIRGINIA
 
 
Webb lies in a hospital bed with a hand behind his head, staring at the ceiling, when he hears a knock. 
 
He looks over at the door and sees Mac standing there smiling, with Harm behind her.
 
Webb: Hi. Oh, you didn't tell me you were bringing him with you.
 
Harm: Just pretend that I'm not here.  I'll play with the bed.  Gee, I wonder if he folds?
 
Harm picks up the bed control, as Mac seats herself in the chair next to Webb's bed.
 
Webb: Not when being tortured.
 
Mac: Did I ever thank you for that?
 
Webb turns on his side, facing her.
 
Webb: Not in the way I prefer.
 
Mac smiles at him.
 
Harm: So, we, uh, spoke to your neurologist.  He said you have nerve damage.
 
Webb: Yeah, so they tell me.
 
Mac: Did he also tell you it would go away in time?
 
Webb: In time for what?
 
Mac: Will you stop asking them to release you?  They need to see some improvement in your motor skills first.
 
Webb: So, have you reported back, yet? 
 
Mac: Already been assigned the defense in a desertion case.
 
Webb: Rabb's?
 
Harm: Funny.
 
Harm smiles.
 
Mac: Petty Officer.  MIA since the Gulf War.
 
Webb: Right.  Petty Officer Allison La Porte. 
 
Webb turns to Harm.
 
Webb: So what about you?  Did you have to beg your way back in, or did the admiral just pin another medal to your chest?
 
Harm: I'm out.
 
Webb's smile fades at Harm's somber expression, and he glances over to Mac, who gives him silent confirmation.
 
Webb: Wow.
 
Mac: Um...so, do you need anything?
 
Webb: Umm...yeah...
 
Webb grabs the bed control with a shaky hand and presses a button, bringing the bed into a sitting position. 
 
He leans in and begins whispering in Mac's ear.
 
Webb: What I need...
 
Harm looks away, down at the ground, and then back at Webb and Mac.  Mac smiles at Webb, and chuckles, close to his face.  Harm turns and leaves as Webb begins whispering in her ear again, closing the door quietly behind him.
 
 
CONFERENCE ROOM
 
 
Mac sits at the head of the table.  Petty Officer La Porte sits next to her.
 
Mac: Well, the good news, at least in terms of the charge, is that the UCMJ is on our side.  "The accuser's intent to remain away permanently, not the time spent UA, is the key factor in determining whether a service member is guilty of an Article 85."  If the hearing goes to court-martial and you're convicted, the length of your absence may be a determining factor in the extent of your penalty.
 
La Porte: You lost me at UCMJ.
 
Mac: I'm sorry, Petty Officer.  It's been 12 years for you, hasn't it?  Do you recall any of your military training?
 
La Porte: Very little.  And I would prefer it if you would address me as Hiba Al-Hadi.
 
Mac: At the time you fell out of that helo, you were 19 months into a four year enlistment.  According to military criminal law, you are still under the Navy's jurisdiction.  Which means Petty Officer La Porte is your official designation.
 
La Porte: Fine.  If it can make this process go faster.
 
Mac: As your attorney, I would advise against allying too closely with the tribe.
 
La Porte: But they're my people.
 
Mac: The point we have to make is that they became your people as a consequence of survival, and that you had no other choice.
 
La Porte: What happens if we succeed?
 
Mac: I can make an argument for discharge.
 
La Porte: All right.
 
Mac: To that end, I expect you to treat officers with full military courtesy.  You can exclude me.
 
La Porte: And if I don't?
 
Mac: You will lose.
  

 


Admiral La Porte enters the conference room.  Mac rises to attention.  Allison La Porte also rises.
 
Admiral La Porte: As you were.
 
Admiral La Porte walks over to Allison and stares at her tanned skin. 
 
Admiral La Porte: My God, your skin.
 
La Porte: Your hair.
 
Admiral La Porte: Why did you want me to think that you were dead?
 
La Porte: Ask a better question.
 
He shakes his head.
 
Admiral La Porte: Don't understand you.  What do you mean?
 
La Porte: You are assuming something that's untrue.
 
Admiral La Porte: Are you making this my problem?
 
Mac rises and walks over, with her hand outstretched, to Admiral La Porte.
 
Mac: Admiral, I'm Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie.  I'll be representing Petty Officer La Porte during her Article 32. 
 
Admiral La Porte shakes her hand.
 
Admiral La Porte: Mackenzie.  Are her actions defensible?
 
Mac: Sir, could I ask you to step outside?
 
Admiral La Porte peers down at his daughter.
 
Mac: Please.
 
Admiral La Porte turns and leads the way out of the conference room.  When they make it out into the hallway, Mac addresses him.
 
Mac: Sir, there's a better time for this.
 
Admiral La Porte: Colonel, what do you know about my daughter's character?
 
Mac: We've only been talking for ten minutes, sir.
 
Admiral La Porte: She is naïve.  In spite of an Ivy League education, she still believes that love is an antidote to world conflict.  I was hoping that the Navy would wise her up, but I couldn't convince her to become an officer.  She wanted to be closer to 'the little guy'.
 
Mac: I'm sorry, sir.  Your point?
 
Admiral La Porte: This is all a reaction to my wife's leaving when Allison was 3 years old.  She considers herself a nurturer.  She goes where ever she thinks she's needed.  An indigent nomadic tribe would be a big draw for her.
 
Mac: Admiral, are you arguing your daughter's guilt?
 
Admiral La Porte: I'm offering you some insight, Colonel.
 
Mac: Do you plan on providing this insight to the prosecution, sir?
 
Admiral La Porte: Already have.
 
Mac: Am I to assume you have no interest in her welfare?
 
Admiral La Porte: Colonel, you are to assume that I have an interest in her bearing responsibility for her actions.
 
Admiral La Porte turns and walks off.
 
 
COURTROOM
  

 


 
A female Commander sits in the witness chair, questioned by Bud.
 
Bud: Commander Ferrante, what was your assignment during the Gulf War?
 
Ferrante: I was the flight surgeon for Marine medium helicopter squadron 169.  We were stationed at Prince Sultan Air Base in Saudi Arabia.
 
Bud points to La Porte, sitting next to Mac at the table.
 
Bud: Did Petty Officer La Porte serve in that squadron?
 
Ferrante: She was assigned to our search and rescue crew.
 
Bud: Was there anything about Petty Officer La Porte's professional behavior that gave you cause for concern?
 
Ferrante: Petty Officer La Porte, with the help of the base chaplain, began treating Arabs in Riyadh while on liberty.
 
Bud: Is there anything wrong with that, ma'am?
 
Ferrante: When the conflict began, we found ourselves short on supplies.
 
Bud: So, Petty Officer La Porte was aiding the Arab community at the expense of her Unit members.
 
Mac: Objection!  Leading, and calls for a conclusion.
 
Judge Blakely: Can the witness verify the connection between these two events?
 
Ferrante: Not for sure, Your Honor, but the Petty Officer was reducing the inventory.
 
Bud: Did the Petty Officer explain why she was doing so?
 
Ferrante: She claimed to have an affinity for Arab peoples, and felt compelled to help them.
 
Bud: Thank you.  Nothing further.
 
Bud returns to his table as Mac rises to question Ferrante.
 
Mac: Commander, three questions.  Given that you were suspicious of misappropriation, did you take action to stop it?
 
Ferrante: No.  Although, I might have if the war had lasted longer.
 
Mac: Did you oppose the idea of aiding the Arab community?
 
Ferrante: Not in general terms, no.
 
Mac: Was that because we were in the region precisely because of our concern for the welfare of the Arab peoples.
 
Ferrante: That was the stated agenda.  Yes.
 
Mac: Thank you.
 
Bud stands questioning a black Commander.
 
Bud: Commander Ralston, were you, as a Navy psychiatrist, asked to evaluate Petty Officer La Porte?
 
Ralston: Yes.
 
Bud: Was she cooperative, sir?
 
Ralston: She revealed what had happened to her.  Was forthcoming about her past.  Yes.
 
Bud: Could you please tell us what she revealed to you, sir?
 
Ralston: She indicated a lonely childhood, a sense of abandonment, and a resulting need to help others.
 
Bud: Is that why she joined the Navy, sir?
 
Ralston: No.  She joined at the insistence of her father.
 
Bud: Was she happy, sir?
 
Ralston: Only when attending the needs of the local populace.  Otherwise, she regretted the decision.
 
Bud: Thank you.  That will be all.
 
Mac rifles through, and reads something, on a piece of paper she grabs from the pile before her.
 
Mac: Commander, did Petty Officer La Porte tell you she was planning on leaving the Navy prior to her disappearance?
 
Ralston: She did not.
 
Mac rises and walks over to Commander Ralston.
 
Mac: Did she explain how the Al-Hadi Bedouin treated her?
 
Ralston: She said they attended to her needs.  Made her a part of their world.
 
Mac: And, would you disagree to the notion that she came to live with them more as a process of social evolution, rather than an attempt to shirk her service obligations?
 
Ralston: No.  But her priorities did shift.
 
Mac: Yeah, but wouldn't that be considered healthy, given that she no longer had access to the Western world and needed, for reasons of survival, to accept her circumstances?
 
Ralston: Yes.  Yes, I believe that's accurate.
 
Mac: No more questions.
 
Mac goes back to her table and pauses, seeing Admiral La Porte staring at her grimly.
 
 
KRESGE MEDICAL CENTER
PIMMIT HILLS, VIRGINIA
 
 
Webb sits outside the hospital in a wheel chair, with an IV attached.  Mac sits on a bench next to him.
 
Webb: I've been welcomed back to my old post at headquarters.  They even dusted off my desk.
 
Mac: They going to let you mount the heads of the men you killed over it?
 
Webb: I don't exactly remember you sporting a carnation from the muzzle of your weapon, and would it be too much to ask for an unsullied reaction to my good news?
 
Mac: I'm proud of you for doing so well by the Agency.  But it only serves to remind me who you are.
 
Webb: As if that changes anything.
 
Mac: It does now that we're closer.
 
Webb: What if I just don't talk about it?
 
Mac: You don't talk about it.  You're a spook.
 
Webb: All right.  What if I promise never to lie to you?
 
Mac: Ah, now, how would I know that you're not lying?
 
Webb: Trust?
 
Mac: Back to my original point.
 
Webb: You need an example.
 
Mac: You got one?
 
Webb: I do.  I kept this from you on your previous visit, but Allison La Porte's Bedouin tribe has been gathering tactical information on the Allied presence in Iraq since last April.
 
Mac: They were spying for Saddam?
 
Webb: Part of the intel on Sadik.
 
Mac: Prove it.
 
Webb: Classified.
 
Mac: Convenient.
 
Webb: But I was the original classifying authority.  I have the right to declassify it, if I so choose.  Consider it done.  I'll arrange to have a copy of the file delivered to your office.
 
Mac: I appreciate this, Clay.
 
Webb: You may retract that when I tell you who else has access to this information.  The Deputy Director of Naval Intelligence.  Your client's father.
 
 
1401 ZULU
PENTAGON
WASHINGTON, D.C.
 
 
Mac stands talking to Admiral La Porte, who is staring out of the window of his office at the Pentagon.
 
Mac: I believe I know why you supported the charge of Desertion, Admiral.  I assumed you were forsaking your daughter, but I now think that you were trying to keep her around.  An acquittal would likely mean that she would be able to return to Iraq.  A conviction would mean confinement to Charleston.  She would be close enough to visit and you could work on winning her back.
 
Admiral La Porte: Call it the irrational behavior of a concerned father.
 
Mac: Actually, sir, I prefer to call it a very rational attempt to save your daughter from the death penalty.  Admiral, do you have access to reports that your daughter's Bedouin tribe was recently spying for Saddam?
 
Admiral La Porte steps over to Mac.
 
Admiral La Porte: What's the source of your information, Colonel?  And don't you even pretend to do a national security dance with me.
 
Mac: The information's been de-classified, but I promise you that it will go no farther than this room.
 
Admiral La Porte: You bet it won't.  Otherwise, you can kiss your marine-green ass goodbye.
 
Mac: Threats will do very little to help your daughter, sir. 
 
Admiral La Porte eyes her and walks away.
 
Admiral La Porte: I assume from your death penalty comment, you realize that linking her to this 'activity' could result in a charge of treason.
 
Mac: That's why we're talking.
 
Admiral La Porte: She is not involved.
 
Mac: I need confirmation, Admiral.
 
Admiral La Porte: I told you, it's not in her nature.  She's apolitical.  She's driven solely by altruism.  By humanitarian concerns.
 
Mac: You're asking me to trust your intuition?
 
Admiral La Porte: Trust her history, Colonel.  When she was a teenager she brought home strays.  She volunteered for homeless organizations.  She worked in the ghetto for seven months, mugged twice, almost raped.  She's completely guileless.
 
Mac: You're saying your daughter wasn't aware of her tribe's activity?
 
Admiral La Porte: I don't believe she knew anything about them.
 
Mac: Well, how do I prove that?
 
Admiral La Porte: And, why would you have to prove it?  You're not obligated to reveal any of this to the prosecution.
 
Mac: I'm aware of that, sir.
 
Admiral La Porte: Then what's the problem?
 
Mac: I won't know until I speak with your daughter.
 
 
ADMIRAL CHEGWIDDEN'S OFFICE
 
 
Sturgis stands before the admiral's desk.
 
Sturgis: You wanted to see me, Admiral?
 
AJ: How are you, uh, handling your case load?
 
Sturgis: Bit of a juggling act, but I'm on top of it, sir.
 
AJ: I'd like to see progress reports.  Have 'em on my desk by Friday.
 
Sturgis: You consider that necessary, sir?
 
AJ slips on his reading glasses and hovers over a line on a sheet of paper with a  pencil.
 
AJ: Yes.
 
Sturgis: Well, I'm just surprised.  This is the first time you've ever asked me to account for my efforts in this way.
 
AJ: Well, don't take it personally.  I'm just getting more involved.
 
Sturgis: Would the ineffective counsel appeal have anything to do with your involvement, sir?
 
AJ: Well, I've received some calls.
 
Sturgis: I see.
 
AJ: Just a few brush fires.  I'll take care of it.
 
Sturgis: Yes, sir.
 
AJ: And, I'd like for you to take Commander Rabb's office.
 
Sturgis: Well, I'm happy where I am, sir.
 
The admiral chuckles slightly.
 
AJ: Commander, you're in a former storage closet.
 
Sturgis: Well, considering that Harm is one of my closest friends....
 
AJ: Commander, take the damn office!
 
Sturgis snaps to attention.
 
Sturgis: Yes, sir.
 
AJ: Dismissed!
 
Sturgis: Aye, aye, sir.
 
Sturgis does a smart about-face and begins to leave.
 
AJ: And put up pictures!  Lots of 'em!!
 
 
BULLPEN
 
 
Sturgis walks out of the admiral's office and into the bullpen.  Bud spots him and hurries after him.
 
Bud: Commander, uh, I have been avoiding this because I have truly felt bad about this, but I am so very sorry about the appeal argument.  You deserved better from me.
 
Sturgis: Yes, I did, Lieutenant.
 
Bud: I have great respect for you as an attorney and I hope that we can get through this, sir.
 
Sturgis turns to face Bud.
 
Sturgis: Time heals all, Bud.
 
Bud: Well, I believe that to be true, sir.
 
Sturgis: So, please stop following me, and allow me the time to work it out.
 
Sturgis walks off, leaving Bud standing there.
 
Bud: Sorry.
 
Harriet looks at the remorseful Bud from her desk.
 
 
CONFERENCE ROOM
 
 
La Porte: No, this is not true!  Saddam's government caused us nothing but misery.  Why would we help them?
 
Mac: As a way of getting them to back off.
 
La Porte: It wouldn't have worked they were too treacherous.
 
Mac: CIA reports have your husband and others in negotiations with top-ranking officials.
 
La Porte: They were complaining about the scarcity of water in the southern regions.  It's a big problem for us.  We've had to sell off two-third's of our herds.
 
Mac: Sounds like a point of negotiation.
 
La Porte: They refused to listen.
 
Mac: Afterwards, your tribe's movements coincided with that of US troops.
 
La Porte: We were following the water.
 
Mac: That's not how it looked to Intelligence Officers.
 
La Porte: Would these be the same Intelligence Officers who told the Air Force where to bomb Saddam?
 
Mac: I'll grant you that point, but in order to effectively defend you, I have to feel comfortable with your story.
 
They seat themselves at the conference table.
 
La Porte: Why don't you?
 
Mac: Evidence would help.
 
La Porte: You are looking at the evidence.  My tribe never spied for Saddam.  On my word.
 
 
BULLPEN
 
 
Harriet catches up with Mac in the bullpen.
 
Harriet: Excuse me, Colonel.  Bud says you have motions and witness lists for him.
 
Mac nods.
 
Mac: Follow me.  Hey, I have a personal question.
 
Harriet: Yes, ma'am?
 
Mac: What's with Bud's teeth?
 
Harriet: Oh, it's braces, ma'am.  His bite was thrown off when his jaw was broken.  He's been avoiding it for years.  Finally, I just put my foot down with him.
 
Mac: Well, how long does he have to wear them?
 
Mac picks up a stack of files from her desk.
 
Harriet: 'Bout a year.
 
Mac: Well, he seems to be handling it well.
 
She hands the files to Harriet.
 
Harriet: Well, he's good at that sort of thing, ma'am.  Thank you.
 
Harriet leaves Mac's office and finds Bud walking toward his office with a couple of cups of coffee in hand.
 
Harriet: Bud.
 
Bud: Hey, honey.
 
Harriet: Hey. 
 
Harriet hands Bud the files.
 
Harriet: From the defense.
 
Bud: Oh. 
 
Bud hands her one of the cups of coffee.
 
Bud: For you.
 
Harriet: Well, thank you.
 
Bud: Thank you.
 
They smile at each other and Bud retreats into his office.  He takes a sip of coffee and places it down, grabbing a  file from the stack and glancing over it carefully, his brow furrowed.  After doing so, he goes to Mac's office and knocks on the frame.  Mac is working busily at her desk.
 
Mac: Yeah.
 
Bud: Thank you for the material, ma'am.
 
Mac: Oh, you're welcome.
 
Bud: I am curious, though.  Why are you allowing me to see these intelligence reports?
 
He shows the cover of the file to Mac.  Mac's face registers surprise, followed by dread as she searches her desk.
 
Mac: I gave you those?
 
Bud: They were at the bottom of the pile, ma'am.
 
Mac: I-I ... I must have picked them all up together.  D-did you read them?
 
Mac stands.
 
Bud: Yes.
 
Mac: You're not supposed to.
 
Bud: I understand, Colonel, but these directly impact the case.
 
Mac: Are you gonna use it?
 
Bud: If you were in my position, what would you do, ma'am?
 
 
HARM'S APARTMENT
 
 
Harm sits in his apartment strumming on his guitar.  He begins playing Muddy Waters' I Want To Go Home, while thinking of several JAG co-workers from his past. 
 
Kaitlin Pike.  Meg Austin.  Krennick.  Carolyn Imes.  Lindsey.  Mattoni.  Tiner and Harriet.  AJ.  Seeing Sturgis again for the first time in a long time, when he joined the JAG staff.  Manetti.  Gunny.  The group toasting Mac's engagement to Brumby.  Grabbing Singer's arm and her glaring at him. 
Bud returning home for the first time after he lost his leg.  Harriet literally crying on his shoulder after baby Sarah died.Coates crying at the bar after running away from the Roberts' Christmas party.  Brumby and he in each other's faces after Brumby told the three that they were all a little bit in love with Mac.  Brumby waving bye at the bar when he left JAG to return to Australia.  Seeing Mac for the first time.  Smiling as they met. 
The first time they shook hands.  Mac locking gazes with Harm after the toast, when Caitlin decided to leave.  The hug they shared when he left JAG to return to active flight duty.  Mac crying over his shoulder as they hug goodbye.  Their kiss on the Admiral's porch.  A knock at the door draws him from his reverie.
 
Harm: It's open.
 
Sturgis walks in.
 
Sturgis: Hey.
 
Harm: Don't you usually work late?
 
Sturgis: Don't you?
 
Harm: Well, you better talk to the admiral about that.
 
Sturgis: No.  That's suicide.  He's heavy on your case, brother.
 
Harm: Yeah, for rescuing Mac.
 
Sturgis opens the refrigerator, looking for something to drink.  Harm takes a sip of his beer.
 
Sturgis: For resigning your commission.
 
Harm: Well, I had to.  He wouldn't let me go any other way. 
 
Sturgis grabs a bottle of water and sits down across from Harm.
 
Sturgis: I think he took it as a slap in the face.  He was offended that your respect for his authority had a ceiling.  It's a new day at JAG, Harm.  He's bolting his cannons to the deck.
 
Harm: Well, he tossed this one overboard.
 
Sturgis: Puts Bud in line for senior responsibilities.
 
Harm: Oh.  At least somebody benefited from my misfortune.
 
Sturgis: He's not ready.
 
Harm: You can't be objective, Sturgis. You're still angry he smudged your reputation.
 
Sturgis: It's just proof that he's not ready.
 
Harm: He had a confidence problem.  He's okay now.
 
Sturgis: Like to consider myself a forgiving Christian, but I'm having problems with this one.
 
Harm: Well, if it's any consolation, I forgive you for having a job I still want.
 
Sturgis smiles and takes a gulp of water.  The phone rings, and Harm gets up to answer it.
 
Harm: Hello? ... You're talking to him. ... No, Friday morning's a li.... All right.  I'll be there. 
 
Harm hangs the phone up.
 
Sturgis: A job offer?
 
Harm: CIA.  Deputy Director wants to see me.
 
Sturgis: What did you do?
 
 
COURTROOM
 
 
Judge Blakely: You have something to put on the record, Lieutenant?
 
Bud rises.
 
Bud: Yes, Your Honor.  Based on new evidence, the convening authority has added to the charge of Desertion, Article 104, Aiding the Enemy.
 
Judge Blakely: Is the defense ready to proceed based on the additional charge?
 
Mac rises.
 
Mac: No, Your Honor.  We need time to prepare and request a reasonable continuance.
 
Judge Blakely: The Government's position?
 
Bud: No objection, Your Honor.
 
Judge Blakely: 48 hours, Colonel.
 
Judge Blakely hammers the gavel.  Admiral La Porte rises, visibly upset, and looks at his daughter.
 
 
AJ'S OFFICE
 
 
Admiral La Porte is pacing angrily in AJ's office.
 
Admiral La Porte: This is a deliberate and malicious leak of information.
 
AJ: Why would the colonel do that?  It's prejudicial to her own client.
 
Admiral La Porte: Because she believes Allison's guilty of the charge.
 
AJ: Are you suggesting that she was aiding the prosecution on purpose?
 
Admiral La Porte: Well, not to put too fine a point on it, Admiral, yes, exactly what I'm saying, yes.
 
Mac: It as a mistake, Admiral.  The material was accidentally included in a pile of motions and witness lists.
 
Admiral La Porte: Oh, well, that really calms the waters, doesn't it, Colonel?  Instead of being motivated by the courage of your convictions, you were just being sloppy and stupid.
 
Admiral La Porte turns to the Admiral.
 
Admiral La Porte: Do you know what really frosts me, is the fact that she even had access to that information.
 
AJ: She had a source.
 
Admiral La Porte: Admiral, is it your unwavering intention to defend this incompetent officer?
 
AJ: Admiral, is it yours to storm around and yell?  Because I can damn sure think of better ways to spend this time.
 
Admiral La Porte stares at AJ for a moment and turns away, huffing.
 
AJ: Look, the charge, in my opinion, is a stretch.  The Government has to prove, one: that your daughter's tribesmen were gathering intelligence for Saddam's regime.  And two: not only did she know about it, but she was aiding them. 
 
Admiral La Porte: And the hearing officer will assume....!
 
AJ: Nothing.  The burden of proof is on the Government's shoulders.
 
Admiral La Porte: Well, they've asked me to share that burden, Admiral.  When Lieutenant Roberts visited me, he apologized.  I said, "What did you apologize for?"  He informed me it was his intention to call me in to testify ... against my own daughter!
 
He glares seethingly at Mac, then gives one last look to the Admiral and storms out, slamming the door behind him.  Mac exhales once he has departed.
 
Mac: It was a mistake, sir.
 
AJ: Oh, you're damn right it was.  A total....
 
Mac: Sir, I realize that you're required to initiate a preliminary inquiry....
 
The admiral seats himself, shaking his head.
 
AJ: What the hell is going on around here?
 
Mac: Sir?
 
AJ: Rabb dives off the deep end.  You do something completely out of character.  Turner sleepwalks through a defense.  Is it me?  Have I lost grip on this office?
 
Mac: No, sir.  We all respect your leadership.
 
AJ: I'm not buying it.  Dismissed.
 
Mac comes to attention.
 
Mac: Aye, aye, sir.
 
She turns to leave.
 
AJ: You know, Colonel....
 
Mac turns at the door to face the admiral.
 
AJ: Sometimes our mistakes reflect the true nature of our feelings.
 
Mac nods and exits.
 
 
COURTROOM
 
 
Bud stands questioning Admiral La Porte.
 
Bud: Admiral, is it correct that as Deputy Director of Naval Intelligence, you were fully briefed in April of this year on the Al-Hadi Bedouins and the nature of their activities?
 
Admiral La Porte: Yes.
 
Bud:  Would you please specify for the court?
 
Admiral La Porte: They were spying on a US military unit deployed in the field.
 
Bud: And how was this conclusion reached, sir?
 
Admiral La Porte: Meetings between tribal representatives and the Al-Amn Al-Khas, the Special Security Service, had been occurring since before the invasion.  However, because our surveillance was from a nearby rooftop, positive identification of these tribesmen was not possible.
 
Bud: Sir, please confine your answers to the questions asked.
 
Admiral La Porte: Sure, Lieutenant.  Ask me another one.
 
Bud: How were you able to connect these meetings to intelligence activities, Admiral?
 
Admiral La Porte: Once the invasion began, the Al-Hadi located and followed the unit in question.
 
Bud: Were they charting our movements, sir?
 
Admiral La Porte gives a short nod.
 
Bud: Over secured channels, sir?
 
Admiral La Porte: That is correct.  At the time they were in possession of sophisticated Syrian-made electronics.
 
Bud: And your daughter was a member of the tribe at this time, was she not, sir?
 
Admiral La Porte: Yes, she was.
 
Bud: Given they had this equipment, do you believe it was possible for her not to know what it was being used for, sir?
 
Mac: Objection.  Calls for a conclusion.
 
Judge Blakely: Sustained.
 
Bud: I'll rephrase, You Honor.  Admiral, once you found out that your daughter was a member of the tribe, weren't you at least suspicious that she might be involved?
 
Admiral La Porte: Nope.
 
Bud: Not even remotely.
 
Admiral La Porte: Not even remotely.  Allison is not interested in such activities.
 
Bud: You haven't seen your daughter for twelve years, sir.
 
Mac: Objection.  Argumentative.
 
Judge Blakely: Sustained.  Move on, Lieutenant.
 
Bud pauses a moment.
 
Bud: Admiral, what language were these transmissions received in?
 
Admiral La Porte: I'm sorry?
 
Bud: US military personnel communicate in English, do they not, sir?
 
Admiral La Porte: Of course.
 
Bud: And isn't it true, sir, that your daughter was the only member of her tribe that spoke English?
 
Admiral La Porte: That is my understanding.
 
Bud: So other than your daughter, sir, who else could've been listening in?
 
Mac: Objection...
 
Judge Blakely: The admiral is qualified to answer the question, Colonel.  Overruled.
 
Admiral La Porte gazes at his daughter, as if seeing her in a new light.
 
Admiral La Porte: It never occurred to me.
 
La Porte looks down at the ground.
 
Bud: I find that odd, Admiral, given your position as an Intelligence Analyst.
 
Admiral La Porte: Yes.
 
Admiral La Porte nods.
 
Admiral La Porte: I can understand your confusion, Lieutenant.  I'm embarrassed to admit it.  It never occurred to me.
 
 
1511 ZULU
CIA HEADQUARTERS
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
 
 
Kershaw leads Harm into his office and gestures to a chair.
 
Kershaw: Please.
 
Harm sighs and sits down.
 
Kershaw: So how many people did you kill in Paraguay?
 
Harm: I couldn't say, sir.
 
Kershaw: From what I hear it was quite a few.  In fact, you and Colonel Mackenzie seemed to have left with something of a reputation, not unlike that of the Lone Ranger and Tonto - only taller.
 
Harm: I don't kill indiscriminately, Mr. Kershaw.
 
Kershaw: Oh, good.  Because that's what I've come to expect from most citizens.
 
Harm: Sir, when I came to you and told you I'd left the Navy, you directed me to Edward Hardy.  I assumed that meant it was okay to go after Colonel Mackenzie.
 
Kershaw: Yes, I didn't say it was okay to steal farmer's planes.  I didn't tell you to give up your passport and force us to sneak you out of there.
 
Harm: Sir, if you feel I operated outside the boundaries....
 
Kershaw: No, Rabb.  I feel you operated with no sense of the boundaries.
 
Harm: I'll admit there may have been a little bit of improvisation.
 
Kershaw: Robin Williams can admit improvisation.  You were playing cowboy.  However, what's done is done. 
 
Kershaw sighs and seats himself.
 
Kershaw: Now, let's see what I plan to do about it.
 
He pauses for a moment and then leans forward.
 
Kershaw: Come work for us.
 
Harm: What?
 
Kershaw: You need some training.  I want you to get some self-discipline, but I think that in time you could make an outstanding CIA agent.
 
Harm: What, suddenly you trust me?
 
Kershaw: Sir, you know me as unpredictable and uncontrollable.  What makes you think I can pull this off?  I mean, don't you put your agents through some kind of character testing?
 
Kershaw: I've already done that.  Come in, Catherine.
 
Catherine Gale enters the office.
 
Kershaw: Say hello to your sponsor.
 
Harm looks up and sees, to his surprise, Catherine Gale smiling at him.
 
 
CONFERENCE ROOM
 
 
Admiral La Porte: Why did you do this?
 
La Porte: We needed the water.  Our lives as Bedouin would've been over if we hadn't made the deal.  We would've been forced to settle near the cities, and give up what identified us.
 
Mac: What was the deal?
 
La Porte: In exchange for information they agreed to reopen a closed tributary.  Replenishing a portion of former marshland in the southeast.
 
Mac: Were you compelled by anyone in your tribe to comply?
 
La Porte: I was the one who brokered it, Colonel.  I apologize for the lie, but not for the intent.
 
Mac: So, you operated the electronics.
 
La Porte: Yes.
 
Mac: Did Saddam supply the water?
 
La Porte sighs.
 
La Porte: He did.  The irony is, it was dammed up for so long that it had become brackish and contaminated with animal matter.  It is what made us sick, and the reason I tried to steal those antibiotics.
 
Admiral La Porte: When did you learn to be like this?
 
La Porte: You think I changed when I started wearing robes?
 
Admiral La Porte: You were always capable of betraying your country?
 
La Porte: The alternative would have been to betray my family.  The colonel informs me you've been trying to help.  This tells me that you can relate to the instinct.
 
Admiral La Porte: I completely ruled out your involvement.  It wasn't even a possibility in my mind.
 
La Porte looks at her father sadly.
 
La Porte: My favorite tribal fable is about a man who wakes up every morning in a  different place.  And after years of trying to adjust to this difficult challenge, he simply gives up and dies.  In Heaven he asks God, " Why did you curse me with such a fate?"  And God tells him that in reality, he had spent his entire life in the same location.  All Allah did was create the wind that moved the sand from one place to another.  I'm no different than I've always been. 
 
She tries to stifle her tears.
 
La Porte: You just never noticed.
 
Admiral La Porte: This goes to trial, they find you guilty....
 
He sighs, misty-eyed.
 
Admiral La Porte: You could be executed.
 
La Porte: Yes.
 
Admiral La Porte: You miss your husband?
 
La Porte nods.  Admiral La Porte rises from the conference table.
 
Admiral La Porte: The, uh, tribe's been exiled to, uh, Jordan.  I'll, uh, I'll track him down, get in touch with him.  Tell him I'm looking out for you.
 
 
KERSHAW'S OFFICE
 
 
Harm: Look, your world is too fluid for me.  The role-playing, the secrecy.  I'm used to working in a morally consistent environment.
 
Gale: Harm, you gave that up to chase Colonel Mackenzie around the Chaco Boreal.
 
Harm: I didn't go to Paraguay to shoot people.  I went on a mission.  I did what needed to be done to achieve my objective.
 
Kershaw: Yes, and that is a perfect description of an agent's field duties.
 
Harm: Sir, I appreciate your confidence.  I'm going to stick with what I know.  Make the rounds of the law firms, maybe knock on the public defender's door.
 
Harm turns to Gale.
 
Harm: Now, if there were a position open in your department....
 
Gale: Two attorneys were just laid off.  Maybe you could use him in another capacity.
 
Kershaw: I don't know what that would be, but I'm open to suggestion.  You tell us.  What else do you do?
 
 
COURTROOM
 
 
The Marine Colonel, Judge Blakely, sits on the bench, addressing La Porte.  La Porte, Mac and Bud are all standing.
 
Judge Blakely: For a time, I balanced the notion of the accuser's intent to remain away permanently with that of a forced social circumstance, but in light of evidence that suggests she had recently engaged in treasonous activities, I find no alternative but to recommend that both the charge of Desertion and Aiding the Enemy be referred to general court-martial.  This hearing is adjourned.
 
He bangs the gavel.  La Porte looks at her father as she is escorted out of the courtroom by one of the guards.
 
 
KRESGE MEDICAL CENTER
PIMMIT HILLS, VIRGINIA
 
 
Mac walks along the halls of the hospital to Webb's room.  She halts by the door when she hears Harm's voice and peeks in, seeing Harm and Gale on either side of Webb.
 
Webb: What would you be flying?
 
Harm: Anything that takes off.
 
Webb: You're really gonna be a CIA pilot?
 
Gale: Works for me.
 
Webb: Do I have to talk to you at company picnics?
 
Harm: I don't have to answer to him, do I?
 
Webb: It could happen.
 
Harm: I'm not sure that's worth the medical benefits.
 
Gale: No, I think it's great.  The two of you are gonna set the Agency on fire.
 
Webb: Literally.  Try not to land on the building.
 
They all chuckle at this.
 
Harm: You're a funny guy, Clay.
 
Webb: What can I say, Harm? 
 
Harm extends his hand and they shake.
 
Webb: Welcome to the brotherhood.
 
Harm: Thanks.
 
Mac seems to be startled by this new information and walks off. 
  
 

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