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Following Orders
By LauraBF

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.


1350 ZULU
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 drive...

The End.