Disclaimer: If you think they're mine, you're sadly
mistaken. I borrowed them, hugged them, squeezed them, and called
them George and then gave them back like a good girl. Seriously, Harm,
Mac, all other characters seen on the show, and the TV series JAG
belong to Donald P. Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount
Pictures, and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment.
Author's Note: It's been a hard week. I'm not going to be able to
write as much fun stuff as I'd like because I've got assignments
due. Joy and Rapture. I needed to vent. So--what
better way to vent than killing off Vukopuke? TPTB gave us a
lovely opportunity in Death at the Mosque that nobody else followed
through with. Soo... spoilers up to Death at the Mosque and a character
death warning for Pissant Moron aka. Vukoblech.
5 APRIL 2005
Lt. Gregory Vukovic sighed in frustration as he climbed into the back
of the truck with the Marnies. Sometimes he hated being in the
military. IF he were a civilian, he'd be in an air-conditioned
office making a hell of a lot more money than he currently made.
If he were a civilian, there'd be nothing to stop him from having his
way with Colonel Mackenzie. She was a babe, and it wasn't fair
that he couldn't nail her just because she was a few ranks above
him! He certainly wouldn't be in the back of a hot transport
truck, getting ready to drive through the dusty Iraqi landscape with a
bunch of sweaty jarheads.
He barely noticed as the truck was started up and part of the Marine
unit he was temporarily, at least he hoped so, piled in. He wanted
out. Maybe if he emailed Mac and used his not inconsiderable
charms on her, she'd get the old guy to order him back to headquarters.
A lecherous grin slid over his face. If only the jarheads he was
forced to spend time with looked like her! He wouldn't mind
staying then--as long as he could find a willing one to share the hard
cot he'd been assigned. Vukovic still had hopes that he could
charm Mac into his nice, soft bed at home. As long as nobody
found out, it wasn't *really* breaking the rules!
The wind whipped through the canvas cover on the transport, sending a
loose end flapping. Still distracted by his fantasies of his immediate
CO, he didn't notice when the truck stopped, nor did he hear the order
to get out of the vehicle. Shaking himself from his reverie, he
followed the Marines out of the vehicle, but failed to duck or take any
sort of cover.
The sharp crack of gunfire was his first warning. He started to
dive, but it was too late, and he was far too close to the truck when a
grenade was thrown into it and it exploded. Shrapnel from it tore
through him, causing him to fall to the ground.
"Shit," he muttered as his lifeblood gushed out. His last thought
was a regret that he'd never managed to take the Colonel for a test