ABOUT US 2: Surprise, Surprise
 
Author: LeE

e-mail: lee_81881@yahoo.com

 Classification: Romance H/M 

 Rating: PG-13 (NC-17 in last part) 

 Disclaimers: JAG doesn't belong to me. It belongs to
DPB and CBS. I'm just having some fun while
procrastinating on homework... 

 Author's Note: First off, a million thanks to my beta
readers who kept up with me throughout all this. You
guys are the best!!

I'm incorporating the USS Theodore Roosevelt in this
chapter. Now, for those of you who like to follow the
facts, the USS TR was the first ship deployed after
Sept. 11, on September 19, 2001 for the Operation
Enduring Freedom in the North Arabian Sea, and it is
currently docked at Norfolk Naval Shipyard. It
returned to port on March 27, 2002 and its crew was
welcomed with a 750-pound cake..:) Since this story
takes place three weeks after The Mission, which was
aired on February 26, I'll assume that the USS TR
hasn't returned from deployment at this point and that
the "Henry" is still out there. Here's the second
chapter of this series. It took some unexpected turns
as I wrote it, and I hope all of you who have sent
e-mails asking about the sequel enjoy it.... LeE


CIA HQ
FRIDAY MARCH 15, 2002
LANGLEY, VA

"I don't care how. You find Webb for me, and I want
him alive." Putting the phone back in its cradle, the
older man sat back on his chair and sighed. It had
been a while since he'd embarked on a mission himself.
After all, it wasn't every day that the Director of
Central Intelligence himself went out to do field
work. The road he had traveled to get to where he was
now hadn't been easy, and he wasn't one to forget.
What he had to do was clear, if only to him. He had a
promise to keep; a promise to his best friend. 

"You have three days, Webb. Three days to show me what
you're made of, or I'm coming after you myself." With
this whispered promise to himself he rose from his
chair and headed out of his office. Before closing the
door, he looked back and settled his eyes on a picture
that had graced his otherwise empty wall throughout
the years. Knowing that it might very well be the last
time he set foot in that place, he retrieved the
picture, traced it with his fingers for a few seconds
and walked out. The past was finally back to hunt him,
to hunt them. It was time to set things right. 

AFGHANISTAN 
THURSDAY MARCH 14, 2002
UNKNOWN LOCATION

"Webb, are you out of your mind?!" 

...an exhausted naval officer exclaimed as he was led
down the dark tunnel. The events of the last day kept
replaying vividly on his mind. The icy stare on Webb's
face was something he'd never forget. The man was on a
mission, and it was clear to Harm that nothing he said
would make him reconsider. The only question left for
him to ask was why? Why would Clayton Webb put his
life on the line for anything like this? What could be
so important that it could prompt the seasoned CIA
agent to betray his country the way he did? 

As these thoughts danced in his head, Harm found
himself at the end of the stairs. A few candles were
lit around the room. The tan colored brick walls and
the sandy feel of the almost palpable air made it all
feel like a bad Indiana Jones adventure. The questions
were still there, but for now, he'd have to
concentrate on survival. The more time went by, the
more it looked like Webb wasn't planning on feeding
him or attending to his multiple wounds. 

With an unfriendly shove, Webb sent him to the floor.
Realizing the hard surface would probably be his
resting place for quite a while, Harm proceeded to
make himself as comfortable as he could. His left arm
was most likely broken, the throbbing pain in his
right leg was almost unbearable, and his head was
about to explode. Fear of what he might find prevented
him from exploring his injuries any further. All he
knew at the moment was that he felt like he'd been run
over by a Tomcat, and frankly, the statement wasn't
that far from the truth. 

"Damn it" Harm muttered to himself as he tried for the
millionth time to find a position on the floor that
didn't make him see dancing gnomes in his head.
Momentarily satisfied with his small accomplishment,
he rested his head back against the wall and allowed
his mind to relive the events of the past day.
Anything he could remember that might help him get out
of that godforsaken place would be worth the effort. A
wave of fear engulfed him as he realized he didn't
have Webb on his side this time. Once again the anger
surged within him and he struggled to keep it at bay.
How could Webb do this? 

"Rabb, I'm not in the mood for wimpy squids who can't
take a little tossing around" 

"Why are you doing this Clay?" 

"What? You think by getting personal with me you might
get me to let you live? Think again, *Harmon*. I'm a
spook remember? A heartless spy. What makes you think
I won't kill you if you keep trying your lousy lawyer
tactics?"

"Clay, the people on that ship are innocent. They live
to serve their country, just like you do. I can't
believe you'd want to destroy everything you've worked
your whole life to uphold. What's going on? Tell me."
Harm tried once again to get through to the spy whom
he had grown to appreciate as a friend over the years.
 

"I believe I told you to shut up a long time ago,
Commander" and with that Webb turned around to look
into the eyes of his prisoner. Harm gasped audibly as
the haunted look on Webb's eyes gave way to an eerie
feeling within him. Had the CIA done that to him? What
else could it be? Webb had never been one to let
personal matters affect his work. Maybe this time it
had gone too far. 'I wonder what happened to him' Harm
thought as he continued to look into his captor's eyes
trying to decipher what he encountered there. 

"Stop trying to analyze me, Rabb. I know what you're
thinking. Well, you're right. This is what the CIA
does to people like me. The time has come for all of
them to pay. All of them"

"Who's them, Clay?"

"ENOUGH!" Clay screamed and pointed his gun at Harm's
head. "One more word and you'll regret it"

Harm decided the best course of action for the time
being was to obey Webb's order until he could get a
better handle on the situation at hand. He was sure
something awful had triggered Webb to respond this
way. He just had to figure out what it was before
Webb's plan entered phase two. Webb knew better than
anyone that the United States of America didn't
negotiate with terrorists, which is exactly what they
would treat Webb as. A terrorist. The thought was
almost unthinkable, and if he weren't right there to
see it, he'd never believe Webb could be capable of
such an act.

Harm knew the USS Theodore Roosevelt was one of the
best ships the US had. After all, it had been the
first one deployed right after the terrorist attacks
back in September. The thought of what would happen if
Webb got away with his plan devastated him. He had
questioned extensively the idea behind Webb's mission
during the briefing, but for every question he threw
his way, Webb had come back with a witty answer. Harm
was used to that side of Webb, so he hadn't paid much
attention to it, figuring whatever Webb wasn't telling
him, he probably didn't want to know anyway. The
SecNav had approved the mission, so Harm had decided
to trust Webb. All he had to do was fly a Tomcat and
bomb the place. The mission hadn't seemed like
anything different from what Webb would normally be
involved in. The CIA had weird ways of dealing with
international matters sometimes, and Harm just assumed
this time was one of them. His mind went back to three
days before, when Webb had briefed him on the
situation, hoping he could remember anything that
could help him figure out exactly what was
happening...  

TWO DAYS BEFORE 
TUESDAY MARCH 12, 2002
0400 EST
ABOARD USS PATRICK HENRY

"Hey, Clay. So, what dangerous spy mission do you have
for me this time?" I say and smile as I enter the
briefing room aboard the USS Patrick Henry. 

Clay simply glares. My smile fades quickly as I take
in the seriousness in Webb's face. Not that I've ever
seen him cheery, he sure looks different. "Listen,
Rabb. This is a life or death deal, all right. I'd
appreciate it if you could turn down that ego of yours
down a notch and think of your country's best interest
here"

"Jeez, Webb. What's going on? Is it that bad?" I've
never heard Webb talk to me like that before. Sure,
we've had our differences, mainly due to the fact that
his missions have a strange tendency to go south, but
we've always been able to rely on each other. This
mission must be really important.

"It's worse than bad, Harm. It's damn horrible" Webb
says as he tries to regain some of his composure. I
can feel something weird about him. Something's not
right, but I chalk it up to nerves or anxiety on his
part and ignore the nagging feeling that's threatening
to over take me. 

"Well, what do you need me to do?" I say as relaxed as
I can.

Webb stands up, and paces the room a few times before
he speaks. "There's a mole in the CIA" 

"What?" I whisper almost to myself. My mind
immediately drifts back to the time we had thought
Webb was dead. The name of Clark Palmer runs through
my mind quickly and I open my mouth to speak. Webb
immediately raises a hand to stop me before I can say
anything. 

"I know what you're thinking, Harm. It's got nothing
to do with Palmer. The mole is high up in the chain.
We believe it's the DCI, Donald Trent."

"Webb" I warn lowering my head slightly. To accuse the
Director of Central Intelligence of compromising
National Security is a big deal. It could ruin Webb's
career and most likely get him killed. 

"The Deputy Director of Central Intelligence, James
Callahan, authorized this mission, Harm. I'm not doing
this just because I have a hunch. There's substantial
evidence behind this accusation, and only a handful of
people know about this. You're one of them"

"So, should I consider myself damned?" I say only
half-jokingly. Webb picks up quickly on the
nervousness in my voice and smirks. I've seen Webb
sneer before, but never like this.  

"I would say that's a fair assessment of the
situation, Counselor. Harm, we're doing this for our
country. You knew this would be dangerous before you
said yes to this mission, however, if you want to back
out now do it before it's too late"

Webb knows me. He's just using his lame psychology on
me. He knows I won't back down from a challenge. I'm
too proud for that. Besides, after the information
I've just been given, I couldn't live with myself if I
didn't do anything to help my country. It's my job and
I'm good at it, so I'll do it. I feel a small smile
grow on my lips as I realize this is exactly what Mac
meant when she said it would kill me if I backed down
from this challenge. 

"No. I'll do it" I reassure him.

"Fine. This is the deal. A few weeks ago we
intercepted a call from a location in Afghanistan
we've been monitoring for a while now. The call was
made from Trent's office in Langley. The USS Theodore
Roosevelt is scheduled to arrive at Norfolk in a few
weeks. We have reason to believe that Trent has been
working with a highly trained group of terrorists that
are currently aboard the ship. Their plan is to blow
it up once it docks."

"How the hell did terrorists manage to get aboard the
ship? And why haven't they been arrested?" 

"It's not that easy, Rabb" Webb's voice hides a trace
of amusement, and his eyes seem to almost reveal
something remotely similar to... satisfaction? I pick
up on it quickly. I've known him for a long time, and
never had he seem anything but committed to his duty,
as different as it may be from mine. This attitude
from him just takes me aback.

"Why the hell not?" I answer exasperated.

"Because they're Naval officers," He states simply. No
trace of irritation, bitterness, anger, or resentment.
It's almost as if he expected this to happen, as if
he's reciting some story that happened in another
planet a million years ago. CIA and Navy work
differently, but relatively, Webb has always shown the
same commitment to his job that I show for mine. Our
methods are different, but I've never doubted his
honor, even when his job has led him down less than
honorable paths. This attitude just doesn't become
him. 

"Hold up. You're telling me that there's a group of
Americans aboard that ship who support terrorism? And
they're Naval officers?"

"Yes. That's correct. Now, I know how you feel about
this. I almost didn't believe it myself at first.
However, we need to find them and stop them"

"And how do we do that, Webb?" I ask, thinking that
maybe he's just having a bad day; as strange as that
may sound as related to Clayton Webb. 

"That's where you come in, Rabb. I need a pilot. The
only way we'll get the insight on this is from the
source itself. I need to know whom those people report
to and where before the USS Theodore goes back to
Norfolk. We're 90% sure that it's in Afghanistan,
because of registered communications between the ship
and the location we picked up from Trent's call three
weeks ago. There's one pilot aboard the USS Theodore
Roosevelt who is working with us. His name is Lt.
Jason Moore. He'll be placed on sick leave as of
tomorrow, and we'll send you to the ship to replace
him. You've flown combat missions before, which gives
us the perfect excuse for bringing you in to lead this
one. We know about two members of the flight squadron
who are involved in this, Lt. Jacobs, and his RIO, Lt.
Smith. Normally, we would've neutralized them at once.
However, this is a delicate operation because the main
suspect is the DCI himself. It's taken a while to get
this operation under way without him suspecting, and
we can't afford to draw any attention to this before
we know exactly what is their ultimate purpose."

"Wait a minute. How did you get this operation
approved without informing the DCI himself?"

"Like I said before, Callahan, the DDCI is working
with us. Technically, he has the power to perform the
duties of the DCI in case of an emergency. Once this
secret is out, it will be declared an emergency in the
Intelligence Community"

"Well, what do you expect me to do when I get to the
ship? Fish for information?"

"No. You'll be one of them"

"What?"

"A mission has been authorized to bomb the location
we've been monitoring. We informed the CAG about this,
but he doesn't know all the reasons why the location
is being destroyed. You'll lead this mission.
Obviously both pilots will fly with you. I need you to
keep an eye and make sure the mission isn't
compromised. They won't be briefed until you arrive on
board. We're sure there's many other locations and
organizations working for Trent on this. We need to
wipe out both pilots on this mission. They won't know
it's coming and they certainly won't blow their covers
by disobeying orders. I'll give you the exact location
and I need you to make sure the place is destroyed,
all right?"

"Well, that sounds simple enough. But, what do you
mean wipe out both pilots? Kill them just like that?
I'm not killing anybody, Webb!"

"Relax, Harm. Everything's arranged. Let's just say
they'll have a hard time returning to the ship after
the mission. We won't exactly kill them. Just
neutralize them. Leave that up to me. You just fly the
mission and comeback home. Skates will be your RIO."

"What do you mean neutralize them?! How do you even
know they won't back down from the mission and bomb
the ship instead out of desperation when they figure
out what's going on?"

"They won't. Listen Harm. Those pilots are not the
brains behind the scheme. They're simply minor players
that can be replaced. Even if they managed to inform
Trent about the bombing mission beforehand, they have
many other organizations working for them, and that
abandoned building in Afghanistan is definitely not
the only place they operate from. Trent won't
compromise their ultimate goal to save the life of a
few of his people that might be in that place.
Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if the place were a
decoy. The mission tomorrow is a cover to get rid of
the moles aboard the ship. This is the way it has to
be done, end of story." 

"Well, if you're saying they're only minor players in
this, then why take them out? Why not just arrest
them?" I ask.

"We may not need the pilots to get information, they
don't know much anyway. What we DO need is the
communications between the ship and Afghanistan
stopped. That will disrupt their original strategy and
will buy us some time to figure out exactly what
they're planning on doing and how extensively this web
of terrorism goes. We need it to look real. We can't
afford to draw too much attention to this, and if we
just go and arrest them, we'd have to tell them why,
and that would open up tons of other possibilities
we're not ready to deal with right now. Hence the
reason you're being briefed here instead of at the USS
Teddy. There might be other officers aboard that ship
involved, and if we arrest Smith and Jacobs, it might
scare them into doing something drastic. As much as
I'd like to, I can't just go to the ship and kill them
myself, even though they're technically terrorists.
It's the only way, Harm."

"I just can't understand how a pilot could betray our
country that way. After all we go through to make it
in the air, why would they just throw it away?"

Webb simply nodded and spoke. "For some people, their
job is just that. A job. Not something that controls
their lives." Webb says, and I notice the strain in
his voice as he says it. Is he talking about me? Or
him?

He quickly recovers. "You leave in a couple of hours.
The mission is scheduled for tomorrow morning" As I
turn around to leave the briefing room I feel Webb's
hand on my shoulder and turn around to face him. 

"Thank you for backing me up on this. Good luck" I
simply nod and leave. He said thank you? Webb? Nah...
Something still feels out of place, with Webb. The
mission seems simple enough; as simple as flying in a
combat zone gets. Fly to Afghanistan, bomb a building,
and return to the ship. As I think over Webb's words a
sense of uneasiness settles in. 'Wipe out both
pilots'. How exactly is he planning on doing that? Is
he going to shoot them down on their way back? 

*********

BACK TO PRESENT
SOMEHWERE IN AFGHANISTAN
THURSDAY MARCH 14, 2002

As his mind wandered around the past few days, Harm
kept quiet. A piercing shout from Webb brought him
back to the grim reality he now faced. With amazing
effort, Harm managed to open his eyes and looked
around. What he saw startled him. The brick wall right
across from him had opened up, and there sat Webb in a
rather comfortable chair, surrounded by monitors,
computers, and thousands of bright blinking buttons.
Harm was so out of it he couldn't tell exactly what
Webb was saying, until he heard him identify himself.
Harm realized Webb was probably counting on his
unconscious state to make his move. It was life or
death, and Harm realized that now, more than ever, his
country needed him. Harm recognized the Skipper's
voice over the radio and realized that Webb was
communicating with the USS Theodore Roosevelt. With a
superhuman effort, Harm opened his eyes completely and
leaned slightly forward. 

"You heard me, Skipper. I have your Commander Rabb
here with me"

"Webb, what are you up to? Why are you doing this?"
the Skipper replied, trying to reason with him.

"Listen now. The Commander is alive, for now. But he
won't be for long if you don't do as I say.
Understood?"

Harm listened to the conversation as attentively as he
could manage. He now understood. The threat to the
ship had come from Webb, and not from the
"terrorists", but he still didn't understand why. He
thought back to the mission briefing a thousand times,
but there were so many loose ends. If Webb was now
openly threatening the ship like a terrorist, then why
did he need such an intricate charade to arrange the
deaths of Lts. Smith and Jacobs? More than that, why
would Webb need him as hostage? Sure, Harm and Webb
had been somewhat friends over the past few years, but
that still didn't explain why Webb chose him. Did Webb
think Harm would help him? No. Webb couldn't be that
out of it. His mind was spinning as he tried to
remember any detail that could help. A loud beep sound
from the control room in front of him caught his
attention. It was an incoming call.

"Jay" Webb answered.

'Jay?' Harm thought. Why would Webb use that name? He
had identified himself as Webb when he spoke to the
ship. Why was he changing his name now? Could it be
some sort of code speaking to communicate with the
people working for him? 

"This is Moore. The target is confirmed. The bomb is
in place. Awaiting notification to proceed with phase
two"

'Moore' Harm thought. That name sounded so familiar.
Moore...Moore... ohh, wait.. Jesus! Lt. Moore. 'He was
the one I was supposed to substitute on the ship. He's
the one who was supposedly working with the CIA aboard
the ship.' That could only mean one thing. Lt. Moore
had to be a double agent, just like Webb was. 

"Confirmation acknowledged. Proceed to phase two"

Phase two. What the hell was phase two? He must have
said this out loud because Webb turned around at once
and gave him a menacing look. This was a side of
Clayton Webb that Harm had never thought existed. He
had worked with Webb before. He knew how Webb handled
himself in these types of cases. Harm still didn't
know much about what was happening, so he decided to
use his trained investigative mind to try to get a
handle on this situation. Silently listing the pieces
of information he had collected, he looked up once
again to meet his captor's gaze.

JAG HQ
FRIDAY MARCH 15, 2002
1135 EST
FALLS CHURCH, VA

"...in more news, there has been a new development on
the tragedy that took the lives of two American pilots
earlier this week over Afghanistan soil. According to
investigators, the remains of the two F-14 planes
found indicate the possibility of explosives present
on one of the aircrafts. How the explosives were in
the ship is still unknown...."

The Admiral turned off the television abruptly and ran
a frustrated hand over his face, resting his fingers
on the bridge of his nose to apply some pressure. How
could this get any worse? The intercom buzzer brought
him back from his thoughts.


"Yes, Tiner"

"Admiral, Deputy Director Callahan is here to see you,
Sir"

"Send him in, Tiner"

"Aye, Sir"

It was Friday, and normally the Judge Advocate General
of the US Navy would be looking forward to a relaxing
weekend at home. However, he knew the odyssey had just
begun. There was still no sign of Webb or Harm. The
last piece of information he had received had been the
phone call Webb had made to the ship the day before,
stating his intentions and informing them that he was
indeed holding Harm hostage. So many things weren't
making sense, and he hoped that this visit from the
Deputy Director of Central Intelligence would shed
some light on the situation at hand. The Navy and the
CIA often worked together on different missions and
situations. Damn it, the CIA had almost gotten Harm
and Mac killed on more than one occasion, and even
though Webb had always been behind it, he had never
failed to come through for them when it mattered. 

You didn't get to be the JAG by being oblivious to the
world around you. The Admiral usually had pretty good
instincts, and he took pride on his ability to read
people, especially the people under his command.
Granted, Webb had never been directly under AJ's
command, but he still felt like he knew the spook.
They had worked on some sensitive cases together, and
as much as AJ hated to admit it, somewhere deep
inside, he considered Clay a friend. And now this. 

"Please, have a seat Mr. Callahan" AJ replied as he
shook his visitor's hand warmly. 

"Thank you, Admiral" Callahan said as he took a seat
across for the Admiral's desk. He had to admit, AJ
Chegwidden was indeed an imposing figure. Most of his
contact with the Navy was done through the SecNav, who
was definitely nothing like this Admiral character.
One more reason he was glad he chose the CIA instead
of the armed forces. If they kept people like the
Admiral behind their desks, what exactly did the
military hold in store for the poor boot camp kids?

"I assume this visit is in regards to the kidnapping
of Commander Rabb?"

"Yes, Admiral. That's why I'm here. This is not
something I usually do. However, I feel this case
merits it. Clayton Webb has done a wonderful job for
us throughout the years, much like his father, and I
feel like I owe it to Neville to try and solve this
myself. Clay's father and I were really good friends.
We worked together in Vietnam"

AJ wasn't biting. Why was the Deputy Director himself
coming to his office and talking freely about
something as personal as this? An uneasy feeling
surged within him as he studied the man's profile
carefully. He seemed like he was hiding something, but
then again, didn't they all? Choosing to put away his
doubts, AJ decided the best course of action would be
to try and get the most information possible from his
visitor. In case this whole situation got out of hand-
which was common in the CIA-he would definitely go
after Rabb himself. The more intel he could collect
early in the game assured him a better chance at
finding Harm and breaking more than Webb's nose this
time. 

"So, what do you think of Webb? Is he really capable
of going through with his threat?"

"Unfortunately, we believe he is. However, this
situation runs deeper than blowing up   the USS
Theodore Roosevelt. We have reason to believe Webb is
not the only mole in the Agency"

"With all due respect, Mr. Callahan, how is it that
JAG gets this type of privileged information? I would
think the Agency would want to keep this under wraps
and not spread the information around so freely" 

"You're right, Admiral. This is something we
definitely want to keep to ourselves. However, the cat
is out of the bag, so to speak. We just got word that
Webb had his people contact ZNN, which is why I'm here
to tell you the whole story before you hear it on the
news." 

The Admiral's eyes widened as the many scenarios
flashed before his eyes. If Webb was so hell bent on
going through with his threat, then it would be nearly
impossible to stop him without a scandal. Now, to top
it off, he had gone ahead and involved the media? Why
would he want to do that? Is he suicidal? He knew the
military could take him out, and it almost felt like
he was daring the US to do just that.

"Well, let's hear it then" AJ said and sighed, as he
reclined on his chair and crossed his arms cross his
chest. 

Callahan plunged ahead with his story. "The mission
that Webb recruited Commander Rabb for was fairly
simple. However, the problem was that the Agency
approved to destroy the location in Afghanistan, not
the intentional murder of the two pilots that flew
with Commander Rabb. We had no idea what Webb was
planning, because we didn't know he was working with
Trent..."

"Excuse me? Trent? As in Director of Intelligence, Mr.
Donald Trent?"

"That's correct Admiral. We have learned Webb and
Trent lead a terrorist organization composed of
Americans who have grudges against the government.
They call themselves the 420. It stands for April, 20.
Webb's birth date."

"Jesus" was all AJ could say as he contemplated the
possibilities.

"The two pilots that died, Lts. Jacobs and Smith, were
working with the CIA aboard the USS Theodore
Roosevelt. We had them there to find out who was
establishing communications between the ship and 420
in Afghanistan, and we needed it stopped."

"Wait a minute. So you knew there was an American
aboard the USS Theodore Roosevelt working with the
terrorists, and you sent Lts. Jacobs and Smith aboard
the ship to stop him."

"That's correct. It was a good cover story. Two cocky
pilots wouldn't be suspected of spying. However, when
Webb found out that the Agency had discovered the 420
operative aboard the ship, he pushed for the mission
to be approved, and had his man install the remote
controlled explosives on the plane that flew with
Commander Rabb's"

"Why would he want Rabb alive, though? He had nothing
to do with it. And Harm's RIO hasn't been found
either" the Admiral responded, confused as he tried to
make sense of the mess that had become of this
situation. 

"Well, we don't know exactly why yet. Webb made it
clear the last time he communicated with us that his
threat was directed against the military forces over
in the Middle East. That's why he's threatening to
blow up the USS Theodore Roosevelt, and we have strong
evidence that indicates 420 has already infiltrated
military bases across the Middle East as well as the
Watertown and the USS Patrick Henry"

"I don't understand it, though. Why is Webb so
insistent on attacking our own military forces?"

"Admiral. I don't know exactly how to say this. We
believe 420 was involved in the September 11 attacks"

"What? What do you mean involved? What about Trent?
He's the goddamn Director of Central Intelligence!" AJ
was finding this all really hard to digest, and
frankly, it was extremely disturbing. There was
something fishy about this situation. 

"Admiral, we found phone call records, letters,
e-mails, and other evidence that incriminate Webb and
Trent. We traced calls made from Trent's office to the
location in Afghanistan that was destroyed on the last
mission."

"Well, why would Webb come up with a plan to destroy
that location if he were actually working with Trent?"

"The location was a decoy, Admiral. The mission was an
excuse to get Lts. Jacobs and Smith in the air in
order to kill them, effectively eliminating the CIA's
contact with the ship"

"Even if this is true, how did he managed to convince
Commander Rabb to help him? And where the hell is
Trent then?"

"Convincing Rabb? Easy. Webb probably told Rabb the
two pilots were working with 420 and fed him a story
to explain why they needed to bomb the building. I'm
sure he didn't tell Rabb he was about to kill the
pilots. As for Mr. Trent, well, we don't know where he
is. He hasn't been at the office since yesterday. We
believe he's hiding out and we're looking for him."

"And of course, Commander Rabb was under SecNav's
orders to go along with Webb so he didn't ask many
questions and just did what he was told" the Admiral
said thoughtfully as he began to think of a way to
break the latest news to his staff before they heard
it on TV.

"Admiral, I know this must be hard for you. For us at
the Agency, well this is nothing new. We don't have as
much faith in our operatives as the military has on
its people"

"I know, Mr. Callahan. I know"

Hundreds of things were going through AJ's mind as Mr.
Callahan exited his office. Why would Webb want Rabb
with him? It just didn't make sense. The news would be
devastating to his staff. Especially Mac. Something
told him that Harm and Mac had finally admitted their
feelings before he left. Well, anybody could've
assumed that after seeing the idiotic grin on Harm's
face when he came out of Mac's office the day before
he left. Chuckling softly at the memory of their
argument in the bullpen, AJ rose from his chair and
paced the room several times. Realizing time was of
the essence; he took the phone and asked Tiner to have
Mackenzie, Roberts, Sims, and Turner report
immediately.

MAC'S OFFICE 
Same Time

A myriad of emotions were coursing through Mac as she
tried to make sense of the tragic turn her life had
taken the past week. The only good thing to come out
of all this was that night she spent in Harm's arms
before he left. Only thinking about him made her
smile, and she could almost believe the elevator doors
would open any time and Harm would come out towering
proudly, whispering good mornings, flyboy grin in
place. 

Almost.

So many things didn't make sense. "It's not fair" she
whispered as tears welled up once again, and she tried
to chase away the images of a life without Harm. They
had been through so much. So many close calls. He had
to make it out of there. He just had to.  

"Ma'am" Tiner spoke as he knocked on her door.  

"Yes, Tiner" Mac answered, dabbing away some tears
that had escaped her eyes.

"The Admiral wishes to see you ASAP, Ma'am" he said.

"Thank you, Tiner. I'll be right there"

"Aye, aye Ma'am" 

ADMIRAL'S OFFICE
SAME DAY
1213 EST

AJ regarded his officers carefully as they stood at
attention before him, before muttering an "at ease". 

"Have a seat people" he said and gestured towards the
empty chairs in his office. 

Once they were all seated, he took off his reading
glasses and sighed regretfully. How could he explain
to officers as dedicated as the ones that served under
him, that the same country they put their lives on the
line for was being threatened by one of its own? What
reactions should he expect? Anger? Sadness?
Indignation? Hurt? He knew those feelings were all
normal, hell, he was feeling all that and more
himself. The question now was, how could he control
those reactions so that those feelings worked on their
favor and not against them? There was no easy way to
break it to them, so he did what he'd been trained to
do-lead. Lifting his eyes to meet theirs he opened his
mouth when he was interrupted.

"Sir" Mac's voice broke the eerie silence that had
filled the room. AJ looked at her, startled at first
at hearing her voice so full of determination. He
merely looked at her and nodded his permission for her
to speak. The truth was, he didn't have enough courage
to speak yet himself.

"Sir, with all due respect. What is the plan to find
Harm?"  'And break every bone in Webb's body' she
added silently, recognizing for the first time, the
anger she had bottled up inside since she'd heard the
news.

Mac's question caught him off guard, and he shot her
an apologetic look. He had never questioned the love
and devotion that defined his two senior attorneys'
relationship from the start. Never. Even during those
two awful years when they'd seemed as distant as ever,
their eyes still told their story. Mic and Renee never
had a chance, and frankly, he felt sorry for anyone
who every tried to stand in their way again. At that
moment, some of the hatred he harbored against the
spook turned to...sympathy? No, not really. But, Webb
would sure be one sorry SOB if Mac got her hands on
him.  Not that Mac's wrath would be his biggest
problem anyway. Realizing an answer was expected of
him, he cleared his throat and chased away his
thoughts. Something had to be done, before time ran
out and the government decided to take care of Webb,
and Harm with him. 

"A few minutes ago, I met with Mr. Callahan" AJ
started, and was quickly interrupted by Bud. 

"Callahan, Sir? As in Deputy Director of Central
Intelligence Callahan?"

"Yes, Lt. Mr. James Callahan was just here, and what
I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this room, all
right?"

They all nodded their agreement as AJ started on with
his explanation.

Some time later, AJ had gone over the more important
parts of the situation at hand, but had intentionally
left out the part about Webb contacting ZNN. His
officers were nothing short of sharp minded, and he
knew they would quickly make some assumptions about
the government's idea to handle Webb, and consequently
Harm. Well, it was now or never.

"People, there's still one more thing I haven't told
you" AJ said as all heads turned quickly towards him
again, eyes burning with anticipation. He only wished
it could be good news.

"Webb contacted ZNN sometime this morning. The whole
story I just told you is the truth, but what you'll
hear tonight on TV may not be"

Mac was quick to react, just as he expected. "Sir? Are
you saying that Webb is on a suicide mission here?"

"It certainly looks like it, Mac. He knows how it
works. The American people are going to want to him
blown up out of his hiding place in Afghanistan, and
that's probably what they're going to get"

"Oh God" Mac whispered softly as tears welled up and
all the implications of Webb's plan hit her full
force. Webb didn't care about his life anymore. He had
gone mad. He had no intention of making this a secret
attack. He wanted Americans to know who was behind
this. What was he doing? 

"They'll sacrifice Harm, Sir. Won't they?"

A sharp pain gripped AJ's heart as he heard the
anguished voice of the woman in front of him. He knew
there wasn't much that could be done. It wasn't like a
secret extraction mission could be put together now.
It was all public now, and the military's actions
would be followed closely by the media, and the
American people consequently. Still he harbored some
hope that things would work out. He had to. They all
did.

"Mac, listen to me. It's not over yet. We don't know
exactly what Webb told ZNN, and we don't know exactly
how far his plan reaches. If Webb told ZNN he has
Harm, then maybe the government will feel it's in its
best interest to do everything possible to keep Harm
alive. I'm sure it's not their intention to disregard
Harm's life completely as you're thinking."

"Yes, Sir. But it's not fair to disregard the lives of
the men and women aboard the USS Theodore Roosevelt
either. And when the time comes to choose, we both
know that..." her voice broke and a sob escaped her. 

AJ sighed and looked down. Mac was right, but until he
had all the facts, he refused to draw conclusions. 
"We don't know what the government will do, and Mr.
Callahan has assured me the CIA is doing everything in
its power to solve this. Besides, if all Webb wants is
to blow up the ship, then it will be hard to stop him
if he already has people working from inside the ship"

"But Sir, don't you see?  If Webb cared at all about
his life, he would've made sure that F-14 crashed from
mechanical failure or something. Not explosives. Its
like he wants to be found, Sir. Like he's daring the
US to find him. He has to know what he's bringing upon
himself" Mac said exasperated as pictures of Harm
flooded her mind. Damn it, she had to do something.

"Mac, I'm sorry. But there's nothing we can do right
now. We have to wait until we hear the report on ZNN
tonight. After that, then maybe I can make a few calls
to find out what's going on at the Pentagon" 

Sturgis had been thinking over and over while he
listened to the passionate conversation between Mac
and the Admiral. Something wasn't right about all
this. There was something missing that he couldn't yet
put a finger on. It probably helped him to be a little
more emotionally detached from this than everyone
else. Sure, Harm and he were good friends, but
Mac?..well Sturgis wasn't in love with Harm... The
Admiral? ... Harm had helped rescue his daughter...Bud
and Harriet?... Harm was little AJ's godfather...
Sturgis knew he had a place in this JAG family. He had
learned that months ago at the Jag-a-thon, and this
was definitely one of those trying experiences he
would go through with them. 

"Sir" Sturgis spoke and at once all heads turned to
face him. "Did you say the report is scheduled for the
six o'clock news?" 

"Yes, Commander. That's what Mr. Callahan informed me
of"

"Well, Sir. Do you think it would be better that we
all stick together, at least until we know what Webb
told ZNN?"

"Sir, Sturgis is right. After all, didn't Mr. Callahan
say they don't know where Mr. Trent is? We might be
safer if we're together" Mac said, backing up Sturgis'
suggestions immediately. Besides, she really didn't
feel like being alone. 

"Very well. We'll have lunch and dinner here at JAG,
and we'll wait until after the news report to figure
out what we can do to help Harm. Understood?"

"Aye, aye Sir" they all answered, and after AJ's
"dismissed" they all retreated back toward their
offices. Not much work would get done, though. 

SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON
Same Time

"Damn it. Damn it. Damn it." He cursed repetitively
after hearing the latest news from his "assistants",
and picked up the phone once again. If Callahan
thought he would get away with this he was wrong. He
could never allow it. He owed it to Neville Webb to
see this through. 

"Charlie, it's Don. Yeah, get me the secure line. No,
I don't know yet. We'll get him, Charlie. First, we
need to get to the JAG people. Callahan will wipe 'em
out and blame it on us as well if we don't do
something fast...Got it. I'll wait here, you let me
now. Out"

Snapping shut his cell phone; he allowed a small smile
to play across his lips. He didn't get to be the DCI
for nothing. He knew how to play his cards. This
wasn't 'Nam anymore, and he was definitely not the
same person he was back then. Callahan made it
personal and he was about to find out what dealing
with the DCI was really like. 

AFGHANISTAN
UNKNOWN LOCATION
FRIDAY MARCH 15, 2002

Almost two hours had gone by since Harm had last seen
Webb. The last he'd heard was Webb speaking to Lt.
Moore about the second phase of the plan. Whatever
that was, it didn't sound good. Nothing usually
sounded good when it came to Webb. Given that he was
tied up and badly injured, there wasn't much he could
do other than think. He tried hard to make sense of
what was happening, to him and to the rest of the
world. Once again he came back to the same place he
started. Too many lose ends. 

A loud noise, followed by ceaseless curses brought him
back from his thoughts. The doors opened suddenly and
Webb burst through them, breaking into a crazed run
towards the control panels of whatever equipment he
had on that...place. Harm had never seen anything like
it before, but he was sure he could get it to work if
he had to. All he needed was to get the hell untied
and he might be able to attempt communication. He
didn't know where they were. He had been sedated the
whole time and hadn't regained consciousness until
they were already inside that...
cave...basement...whatever it was. Sedated?  Well, he
surely didn't remember much from the time he...
crashed? Ejected? How the hell had Webb gotten him out
of his Tomcat? Maybe his head injury was worse than he
had thought. Well, his recent memory might be a bit
blurry, but he was not that bad off, he guessed. He
still remembered Mac. His Sarah, and he sure
remembered that last night she spent in his arms. 

Closing his eyes once more, willing his mind to shut
out the present reality he faced, the memories of the
woman he loved danced around in his head. They'd only
had that one night, but oh what a night it had been.
Even in his present state, her smile still took his
breath away, her intoxicating scent still overwhelmed
his senses, her skin soft like rose petals still
burned against his own, her beautiful brown eyes still
hypnotized him. Together, they'd been to heaven and
back, and he knew that no matter how many days he had
left on this Earth, nothing would ever compare to the
sweetness of loving and being loved by Sarah
Mackenzie. 

His mind traveled back to the morning after that
magical night. A sense of peace reigned within him as
he opened his eyes to witness the first rays of
sunlight caress the angelic face of the woman in his
arms. The fear of the uncertain future they faced had
still been there, but he'd sworn he wouldn't let the
unknown spoil the greatest thing he'd ever
experienced. The cryptic explanation he'd been given
about the assignment made his heart sink a little
lower each time, and as he reminisced about the
previous night and the way they'd made love
unprotected, he prayed to God he could be there for
Sarah if their dreams of having a baby Rabb came true
sooner than expected. 

"Rabb" Harm heard a familiar voice yell his name.
Somewhere inside his dazed mind he knew he had to
answer, but his body seemed to be detached from his
brain, ignoring his order to articulate a coherent
answer.  His eyelids were heavy, feeling more like
they'd been glued together. The excruciating pain in
his leg returned seconds later, and his multiple
injuries made themselves known, the hurt threatening
to overrule any trace of consciousness left in him. 

"RABB!!" he heard it clearer and louder this time, and
he forced his eyes open, if only to beg for the
yelling to stop. 

"Hmm.." he murmured weakly, his head rolling backwards
against the damp scrappy surface of the wall once
again. 

"Wake up, Rabb. I swear I'll shoot you again if you
don't. We need to get moving" 

The "shoot you again" was the only part that made it
to his brain, and he quickly attempted to move, not
because he feared being shot again, but because it
meant that he'd already been shot once. He had to be
losing blood, and his brain told him if he didn't find
the source of his bleeding, he'd lose consciousness
before he could do anything to stop Webb. More over,
if he didn't make it out of there, it would kill
Sarah. He had promised her he'd be back for her, and
he never broke his promises- especially not to her. 

His hands moved slowly across his sides, his mind
furiously trying to identify the place in his body
that hurt the most. The crushing overlapping ache he
felt made it hard, but after a few seconds, his hand
skimmed over his left arm and it stained quickly with
blood. He had to make it out of there. What if Webb
tried to get to Sarah as well? He had to protect her,
to save her from anything and anyone who tried to hurt
her.    

With a will born of sheer desperation, he finally
succeeded and moved slowly towards the place his
half-awake mind recognized as the entrance to the
cave... basement... whatever. Where the hell was Webb?
He'd yelled at him to wake up and move, and now he was
nowhere to be found. Panic surged within him once
again as he realized if Webb wanted him dead, all he
had to do was leave him there. He was pretty sure he'd
been given some kind of drugs, his leg was almost
certainly broken, and he was losing blood fast. He'd
never make it out of there alone. He had no
recollection of the route they'd taken to get him
there, where his plane was, where Skates was... Oh
God! Skates!

USS THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
Same Time

"NO!!! Stop! What are you doing? NO!! Harm!!!!" 

"Shh... hey, Skates. It's okay, wake up Skates, you're
safe. Come one, wake up" Lieutenant Brooks tried
countless times to bring her back from her nightmares.
He wasn't getting through to her.

"Get your hands off me you miserable son of a bitch!!
I hate you!! NO!!!" she screamed repetitively, arms
flailing aimlessly, the panic gripping her
overwhelming any reference to reality she had. 

"Lt. Elizabeth Hawks!" Lt. Brooks yelled, careful not
to touch her, his voice firm, hoping his Naval Officer
routine would get through this time. 

Skates opened her eyes abruptly at hearing her full
name and rank. Scanning the room wildly she searched
for a familiar face, the terror she'd lived through
stamped clearly on her feminine features. Two days
she'd been recovering, sleeping almost the entire
time, except for the times when the nightmares would
take over her dreams and take her back to that
horrible place. 

Lt. Peter Brooks had been there with her the entire
time, talking to her, holding her hand, and caressing
her face. No one had been able to soothe her after her
nightmares, only him. If there were any doubts about
his feelings for the pretty lieutenant, they'd been
dissipated the past 48 hours. No one could deny that
they shared a special connection. Peter had arrived at
the USS Theodore Roosevelt at the same time as Skates.
Now, they were nearing the end of their tour, and
Peter had spent countless sleepless nights trying to
figure out a way to let her know what he felt. He
loved her. He just didn't know how to say it. Too many
important people in his life had left him before, but
he knew that if he let his fear take over this time,
that'd be the last thing he'd do on this Earth. Skates
was the most important person in his life, and he knew
he could never live without her close. 

"Hi" Skates whispered softly after focusing her eyes
on his handsome face. 

"How are you little one?" She smiled at his words.

"Doing okay, I guess" she whispered and gripped his
hand as the tears started falling from her eyes.

"Hey, hey now. What's wrong? Does it hurt? What can I
do? Do you want me to call the..."

"No, Peter, no. Listen to me" She interrupted him
quickly, before he woke half the ship up. 

"What is it Beth?" She loved it when he called her
that. It was such a girl's name. She hadn't been
called that since the week before she left for the
Academy. It wasn't easy being a woman in the Navy,
even less in the aviation field, but she had a job to
do, and she loved it. Darting her yes back up towards
him she spoke, knowing that to do her job and uphold
the oath she'd been sworn to, she had to relive the
nightmare.  

"Peter, you need to get the Skipper down here, please"
The desperation in her eyes tore at his heart, and he
simply nodded. 

Minutes later, the Skipper was in front of her, his
eyes wide and his mouth partly open, as he listened to
the story Skates was relating. 

"What happened then, Skates?"

"I killed them, Sir," she said as a sob escaped and
Peter quickly took her hand after the nodded approval
of his Commanding Officer.  "I shot them both, Sir. I
had to. I didn't mean to, but I had to. I had to get
away... I..." her voice broke once again and this time
Peter took her in his arms, mindful of her injuries,
softly whispering words of comfort to her. His eyes
met the Skipper's in a concerned gaze as he stroked
her hair and wiped away her flowing tears. 

"Sir? You'll find him right? You'll find Harm..." her
voice full of emotion and concern for the man who she
cared for like a brother, and who had almost lost his
life to save hers. 

"We'll do our best, Skates. I promise you that"
Turning away from her quickly, the Skipper headed
directly towards his quarters. He had to contact AJ
and quick. He knew that Webb would probably have all
the communications lines tapped. He had to figure out
a way to ... 

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts, and he
rose to open the hatch. Petty Officer Jenkins stood in
front of his CO in an obvious display of discomfort. 

"Yes, Petty Officer?" the Skipper asked, trying to
remain calm. 

"Sir, there's been an incident"

"What is it Jenkins?"

"Sir, it's Lt. Moore. He committed suicide."


ABANDONED WAREHOUSE 
WASHINGTON D.C
30 MINUTES LATER

"Trent" the seasoned CIA agent answered warily,
knowing whom it was and anticipating the bad news he
would probably receive.

"Don, Moore just killed himself thirty minutes ago"
Charlie spoke, a hint of fear, of apprehension etched
in his words. 

"Oh, God. We're running out of time" Trent whispered
almost to himself. They had to act, and do it quick.
Too many lives were at stake. The damn national
security was compromised. How had it gotten this far?
Where the hell had Callahan found him? What else did
he have up his sleeve? 

"Don, we've gottta do it. The news report is at 6:00
today."

"I know, Charlie. I know" A moment of silence between
the two men passed before Trent spoke again.

"Make all the arrangements, Charlie. We've gotta get
to the safe house before the news report this evening"

"Got it. See you there in two hours then"

"Yeah, I'll take care of JAG, you take care of the
rest, and Charlie?"

"What?"

"Good luck"

JAG HQ
FALLS CHURCH, VA
1406 EST

"Send him in, Tiner" AJ spoke

"Aye, Sir" Tiner answered dutifully. AJ smiled
slightly behind his desk. If there was one person in
his staff who had never given him a headache it had to
be his yeoman... Tiner. With all the craziness around
JAG the last few days, it was good to know some things
hadn't changed.

Tiner quickly stood up and informed the Admiral's
visitor to enter. Tiner would admit he was nosy from
time to time, and he even had some dibs on the office
pool going on about the Colonel and the Commander, but
he was definitely not into gossip. However, the
strange activity surrounding JAG the past couple of
days had spiked his curiosity. Two different men, all
strikingly resembling Mr. Webb were now on the
visitor's list, and Tiner wondered once again if he'd
ever get to be in on the action. Like the Colonel and
the Commander always were. The visits didn't really
bother him, but nonetheless he kept his eyes open,
making sure his job didn't lack in any way. 

Inside the office the Admiral's surprise couldn't have
been greater when his visitor removed the outer
garments that shielded his face from everyone's eyes. 

"Mr. Trent" AJ uttered slowly, his eyes growing wide
with apprehension recounting quickly in his head all
the details Callahan had given him about the CIA's
suspicions of Trent. This man was the Director of
Central Intelligence, for God sakes. How could he even
think of betraying his country that way? 

Trent must have recognized the turmoil on AJ's face
and quickly spoke. 

"Admiral Chegwidden" he said as he extended his hand
to the taller man in uniform. 

"Mr. Donald Trent. How can I help you?" AJ said
cautiously as he shook the hand of the shorter man,
who obviously looked a little uneasy about the visit.

"Admiral. Would it be possible to have your immediate
staff present here? Colonel Mackenzie and Commander
Turner? This really can't wait"

Eyeing him up guardedly, AJ thought about Trent's
request and finally decided having the rest of the
staff present would probably not be such a bad idea.
AJ agreed and minutes later, the four of them were
sitting in his office, the three officers waiting
patiently for Trent to start.

"I've learned Mr. Callahan paid you a visit this
morning"

All eyes turned to AJ as he answered. "That's right,
Mr. Trent. He did. And I suppose you are here to tell
me everything we heard this morning is a lie?" AJ said
sarcastically. 

Trent sighed. He'd dealt with military officers all
his life. Hell, he served in 'Nam and spent countless
years doing CIA field work. He knew how the military
worked, how their officers were trained, and that's
exactly why he knew it wouldn't be easy to convince
them. Well, at least not without showing some of the
most convincing evidence he had. Slowly, he reached
into his pocket and out came a yellow envelope, which
he handed off to AJ with a knowing glance. 

Scanning through the pictures and documents he found,
a feeling of dread overtook him as he made the
connections in his head. Could it be true? Why after
so long? 

Noticing the understanding dawning on the Admiral's
face, Trent decided to go for the kill. He had no time
to waist. Reaching inside his pocket once again, he
took out a little tape recorder, or so it looked like,
and a familiar voice filled the room. Webb.

"Is everything ready, Dad?" Webb's voice was heard
clearly. 
"Yes, Jay. Everything's going according to plan. Are
we ready for phase two?" Callahan asked.
"Yeah, Moore's dead" Webb answered nonchalantly. 

AJ gasped involuntarily at this. The Skipper aboard
the USS Theodore Roosevelt had sent a secured message
to him an hour before, telling him that Lt. Moore had
committed suicide and that the rest of the story would
be explained by Lt. Elizabeth "Skates" Hawks, who was
on her way to Bethesda along with Lt. Peter Brooks. AJ
looked sharply at Trent as he made the connection. He
hadn't wanted to tell Mac about Skates for fear of her
reaction. Apparently Skates had been with Harm after
the forced landing until they were separated, two men
taking Skates and Webb taking Harm. The Skipper hadn't
said anything else, and figuring Mac would probably
harass Skates for the story, he chose to keep quiet,
instead of contributing to the incontrollable emotions
he'd seen in Mac's face since the moment she'd learned
of Harm's disappearance. 

"You mean Lt. Moore had something to do with this?" AJ
demanded. 

"Don't bluff with me Admiral. I'm the DCI remember? I
read that message you got from the Skipper before it
left that ship" Trent answered evenly, no pride or
smugness noticeable; simply a sense of urgency
palpable in the air that surrounded him. 

"We don't have much time. I'll explain everything once
we're safe. Let's go" Rising from his chair, he made
sure his face was covered once again before he
departed. Leaving instructions for them to follow on
an envelope on the desk, Trent walked out of JAG.

AFGHANISTAN
ON THE ROAD
SAME DAY

The repetitive bumping against the cool glass surface
finally brought him back to reality as Harm opened his
eyes and surveyed his surroundings. He was in a car;
that much he could tell. Turning his head, which now
hurt worse than before, he tried to identify the
place. He'd been in the Middle East before. There had
to be something he could remember, something he could
recognize and store away in his mind for when the time
came for him to make his escapade. There was no doubt
in his mind that he had to at least try to get away
from Webb. Strange. He was the only one in the car,
other than Webb, who was driving in silence, as Harm
had apparently dozed off from the effect of whatever
drug he'd been given on the back seat of the Jeep. 

The bouncy ride seemed only to intensify the aches
that had become so familiar to him.  Quickly adjusting
in his seat, his hand flew to his left arm, breathing
a sigh of temporary relief that his wound had been
apparently attended to. How? He had never seen anyone
in that hell hole other than Webb. He faintly
remembered passing out after attempting to stand at
Webb's order. After that, a big gap on his memory
prevented him from even an educated guess as to where
he'd been or where he was being taken. The last
thought on his mind before he fainted had been of
Sarah. His Sarah. 

Visibly shaking his head, he tried to focus on the
situation at hand once again. He had to figure out a
way to let someone know where he was. Mac was probably
dying of worry. Why now, God? Why now after the dreams
we've had were standing at our doorstep? Nothing he
thought, said, or did could take him back in time
before the... crash? Once again he made an effort to
remember how he'd gone from his Tomcat to where he was
now. 

"Skates" he murmured softly and this brought Webb's
attention towards him. Turning his eyes from the road,
Webb regarded him, a devilish grin on his face. 

"I see you're awake, Harm"

"What do you want, Webb?" he answered, the hatred
quickly growing inside him allowing him to forget the
many times Webb had been there for them. The many
times him and Mac had been there for Webb. 

"Shut up" Webb answered defensively and turned back,
his eyes concentrating on the road once again, a frown
now visible on his features. Harm could see his face
through the mirror, and once again wondered silently
what phase two was all about. He'd heard Webb talking
about it with Lt. Moore on the phone the day before.
He hoped above all that whatever phase two entailed,
it didn't go through until he had a chance to do
something about it. 

Minutes later, he felt the car slowly decreasing
speed, and an old abandoned warehouse greeted his eyes
as he looked out the window. It was dark, cold and
humid as he set one foot out the door, leaning heavily
on the door frame, trying desperately to make his head
stop spinning enough to take the first step. His
extensive military training told him to look around,
take in his surroundings, try to recognize anything
familiar, but he could do none of those. There was
nothing to see. It was dark, so he couldn't even use
the sun to figure out the time. Miles and miles of
hard roughed up land extended to all sides, and there
was only the warehouse to look at. Deciding it was
better than nothing he raised his eyes as best as he
could, knowing it could be a long time before he saw
the outside of anything again. 

There were three windows on what appeared to be the
top floor. Seemed like a two story old building.
Probably had a basement, he mused. He couldn't tell
the color or texture of the walls. Everything seemed
too blurry for him to pick apart one thing from the
other. Not even his own memories were clear. His
recent memory still wasn't affected. Well, he
remembered everything except those gaps in time that
were surely from the drugs. How did he go from 35,000
feet to a basement apparently 100 feet below the
surface? How did he get into that car? What happened
to Skates? Did he leave her alone? Did she die like
the others? 

The minute he entered the building the rush of warmth
enveloped him, and he finally registered why he'd felt
so uncomfortable walking outside. He was freezing.
Things seemed to be looking up now. At least this
place seemed to be bigger, probably more possible
escape routes. He knew his body was nowhere near where
it needed to be for him to attempt an escape, and all
the thinking apparently took his toll as he felt
himself drift off again, landing hard on the floor;
blackness once again. 

Hours later, the sound of muffled voices awoke him,
and slowly opening his eyes he searched the room. His
vision rested across the place where he now lay; there
was another bed there; another person who looked like
another victim. Someone who knew what if felt like to
be in his shoes. Well, at least physically. He knew
that no man on this Earth could ever feel the same he
felt inside for Sarah Mackenzie, but having some
company didn't sound that bad at the time. 

Gingerly, he moved his legs trying to get them over
the edge of the bed. It wasn't that uncomfortable, the
bed at least. It beat the hell out of sleeping in the
floor with all the injuries he was sporting. Finally
able to stand in his two feet, he tentatively moved
one foot in front of the other, afraid of too much
movement, afraid his body might not have strength
enough to support him. It was times like these that he
wished he had inherited his mother's height and
weight, instead of his father's full 6'4 frame.
Dizziness attacked once again, and he quickly lowered
his head and planted his hands on his knees,
determined to overcome it. Something told him he
needed to get over to that other bed and see who that
person was. 

Still a good five feet from the bed, he stopped dead
in his tracks when his "roommate" stirred in his
sleep. It looked like a nightmare, but after a few
seconds he settled back on his pillow, his back still
towards Harm. There was something strangely familiar
about this person sharing his fate, at least as far as
he knew. The stranger shifted once again and this time
his face was left uncovered, unshielded from the tall
Commander's eyes, which quickly filled with rage,
hurt, revenge, and fury. Harm's eyes widened in horror
and he launched himself at the stranger with all the
force his body could muster. There was no thinking
about consequences or a rational plan formed in his
brain. His instinct was about the only thing working
properly in his advantage and he went with it,
determined to end the life of the stranger once and
for all. Harm's big roughed up hands landed on the
stranger's neck as his knees hit the floor, wild pain
shooting through him uncontrolled, but he didn't care.
His mission at the moment was taking the life of
another human being. 

The stranger felt as if his nightmare was coming true,
and he opened his eyes, staring frantically at the
figure of the man he'd considered a friend for so
long, now hell bent on strangling him. There was pure
fury in his features, fueled without a question by the
circumstances and the assumptions under which he was
operating. The stranger knew he had to do something
quick. Harm was a heck of a lot bigger than he was,
but the once seemingly unstoppable Naval Officer was
currently on his knees, heavily drugged, and that had
to play to his advantage. 

Harm hadn't stopped yelling and screaming since his
hands had landed on his target. "I'm gonna kill you,
bastard. I hate you!!" along with other obscenities,
was heard constantly over and over from the usually
stoic Commander. Harm felt like he was in another
world; one filled with anger, pain, wrath, as his
hands applied increasing pressure on the neck of his
victim and his brain subconsciously tried to come up
with reasons to avoid any blood shed. His head swung
frantically in the air as he jerked the body of his
prey with such ferocity that he started feeling the
internal pain on his stomach from the grinding against
the side of the bed where it rested.  

In his hysterical state, Harm caught site of a shadow
toward the side. He turned momentarily towards it, as
his hands still held the death grip he had on the neck
of the stranger. 

"Let him go, Rabb" the voice from the door said. He
was sure it had to be Webb standing there, but if that
was Webb then who...

"Harm..." he heard the faintest of whispers from the
person on the bed, and looked down quickly at where
his hands lay on his neck, then back up to his face.
At once, his grip loosened and a force born of his own
fear and desperation yanked him away from the bed,
crawling urgently on the floor, trying to get away
this time; as far away as possible from him... from
them

Back on the bed, Clayton Webb watched with
astonishment and regret at the form of his friend
splayed on the floor, trying to grasp the difference
between nightmare and reality, truth and lies. From
the door, Jason Webb looked on, an evil smile
plastered on his face, enjoying the display of emotion
apparently brought on by his wicked plan to get his
revenge. 

"Clay?" Harm said softly, his eyes still as wide as
before, breath quickening as the implications of this
new discovery swirled around in his half-there mind.  

"Yes, Harm. It's me, Clay" Webb answered from his
place across Harm. He wasn't sure what drugs Harm was
under the influence of, but whatever it was had to be
powerful. Harmon Rabb looked like hell, and he
couldn't imagine he looked much better himself. 

"Then who..."

"Me? I'm Jason Webb. Nice to meet you Commander Rabb"
Jay answered from his place at the door, where he
still rested against the frame, sarcasm dripping from
every word, a triumphant expression shrouding his
face. 

"Stay out of this. You are not a Webb damn it!" Clay
hissed at his look-a-like, glaring at him the way only
a real CIA agent could.

"Sure I am" Jay rebutted "Do I not look like you? Have
I not been doing your job? Talking to your people?
Sleeping in your bed?"

"Damn you, no you are not a Webb and you will never
be!"

"Oh yeah? Says who? Once I get you both taken care of
who's gonna stand in my way huh?"

"You miserable son of a ..."

"Oh, spare me the flowery spy language will ya?" and
with that Jay Webb left the room, closing the door and
leaving Harm and Clay to their long overdue chat.

Harm was still stunned. So much he wanted to say, but
he didn't know where to start. Clay sensed his
discomfort and quickly launched in with his
explanation.

"I didn't know about him until two weeks ago, Harm"
Clay said, breaking the icy silence that had settled
between the two. 

"I believe you, Clay" Harm answered sincerely, his
injured leg stretched out on the floor, while his
other leg rested underneath it. At least the
temperature was a little more comfortable here than it
had been at the other hell hole he'd been held at. 

"I tried, Harm. I swear. I did everything I could to
convince him not to bring you into this. I told him he
could kill me if he wanted to, but that's not what
he's after. He wants to kill me all right, but he
wants revenge first"

"Revenge from what? What happened Clay?"

"I don't know exactly what, Harm. I know what he told
me, but I'm not even sure that's the truth."

"Seems like someone's been playing you all this time
Webb. For God sakes, you're a spy Clay. You can know
the lottery numbers that will win the next three years
with a simple phone call"

Clay simply looked at Harm with a deflated expression
on his face. Harm would probably never understand what
it was like to do his job. He'd never have to, really.
Harm had a safety net. All military people did. They
had JAG. Court Martials. Things in the military were
usually done the right way. Granted, there were always
exceptions, but nothing's really perfect in this
world. The CIA was different. Sure there were teams,
and colleagues and all, but when it really mattered,
there weren't many people around that could be
trusted. Every man for himself, and back to square
one. Honor and truth weren't valued nearly as much in
his world.  

"Harm, there's only one person I've trusted since I
became an agent" Clay said somberly. Years of
memories, conversations, hardships, pain flashed
before his eyes, and Harm instantly recognized it. Not
because he knew about any of it, but because he'd seen
that look in his own face so many times when he stared
at the mirror. 

"Who?" Harm couldn't find anything better to say, so
he opted for information.

"The DCI. Donald Trent"

"What? But isn't he..."

"That's what Jay told you isn't it? He told you it was
Trent leading the terrorist threats against the USS
Theodore Roosevelt. He told you the two Lieutenants he
killed during that last mission were terrorists,
didn't he?" Clay's voice had steadily risen in volume
almost to yelling. For a person who made a living out
of staying away from confrontation, Clay sure looked
like one pissed spook.  

"Yeah. That's exactly what he said. I figured the
SecNav approved the mission so..." Clay sensed the
defensive tone Harm's voice had taken and quickly
interrupted him.

"It's not your fault Harm. No one could've known. No
one but me and Trent"

"What happened Clay?" Harm asked, softer this time,
moving back towards his bed to rest his back against
it. The effect of the drugs was slowly diminishing,
but he was still not nearly as well as he needed to
be. 

"Three weeks ago, before I was kidnapped, Don Trent
sat down with me and told me the story. He heard
rumors that Jay had been spotted around. I don't know
who he heard it from, but I trust him. So, we sat down
and he told me. The day I was born..."

SAFE HOUSE
WASHINGTON D.C
SATURDAY MARCH 16, 2002
0214 EST

"... Clay's mother gave birth to twins. We were all
very happy. Porter had had a difficult pregnancy, and
the doctor didn't think both babies would survive. She
knew they were both boys. Neville, Clay's father, and
I were in Vietnam at the time. Doing....hmm...
intelligence work for the Agency. Those were difficult
times, and Porter only had my wife, Betty, with her
during her pregnancy. Neville and I were gone for the
most part, and so, our families were very close. Clay
didn't know any of this until three weeks ago, before
his twin brother, Jay, kidnapped him while he was in
Afghanistan following a lead on a... well, it's
classified." 

The rest of the table smiled knowingly as they'd heard
those words from Clay so many times. Things were
clearing up some, but the fact remained there were too
many things that still didn't make sense. 

"Mr. Trent" Mac asked cautiously

"Call me Don, please"

Mac gave him a half-smile and started again. "Don,
what does Callahan have to do with this?"

Don took a deep breath and shook his head sadly as he
continued on with his tale. "Callahan, Neville and I
trained together when we started out in the Agency a
few years before the Vietnam War started. We were very
good friends, but of course, we were still
competitive. Being a CIA agent was all that mattered
to us at the time. We were all good at what we did,
and after we finished training, we were separated. We
still kept in contact with each other, and when the
time came for the CIA to do real work over in Vietnam,
the Agency offered Neville and I a spot. A great
career booster as you all might imagine. Callahan was
never the same after that. We lost contact with him,
but we know he was still in D.C the day Porter gave
birth to the twins"

"You mean Callahan kidnapped one of the Webb babies
out of jealousy?" the Admiral asked, his eyes widening
in horror as the story progressed. Sturgis hadn't said
a word, but his face conveyed the same feelings as his
fellow officers. 

"Yes" he simply answered. "Of course, we didn't know
it had been a kidnapping until 10 years ago, when
rumors of Clay's twin brother started circulating high
up in the chain at the Agency"

"And when you were sworn as DCI six years ago, the
other person running for it was Callahan" Sturgis said
thoughtfully.

"That's right. So the board chose him as DDCI. I knew
that day it would come down to this sooner or later,
but I chose not to do anything about it until we had
real proof, and now it seems we waited too long"

"Proof of what?" Mac asked, leaning over the table
with her elbows resting firmly on the plain surface.

"That Callahan and Jay have been working together for
some time. As far as we know they head the 420
terrorist group that's responsible for the death of
those two pilots."

"Why is Jay working with Callahan though. Wouldn't he
hate Callahan for taking him from his family?" Sturgis
asked bewildered at the turn of events.

"Callahan had him taken to a secret home he owns, near
Arizona. He raised him there as his own son, but he
made him keep the Webb family name. Not knowing who he
really was, having no contact with the outside world
whatsoever, Jay only learned to love what his "father"
loved and hate what his "father" hated. Jay believes
he was given up by his original family because they
only wanted one son, and chose Clay instead of him"

"How did Neville Webb react when he heard the news?
Were you in Vietnam still?"

"Yes, but we were told four days after the babies were
born that one of them didn't make it. Until ten years
ago, we believed Clay's twin to have died four days
after he was born. Now we know the truth. I wish it
would've taken us less time to figure all this out,
but I couldn't let the Agency in on this, of course,
so I had to work on my own. Me and my team"

"Your team?" the Admiral asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, it's taken us time, but as the saying goes
'it's better to light one candle than to curse the
darkness'"

Don simply smiled and pressed a button under the table
where they were seated. At once, three doors around
the room opened and out came three men, dressed in
what they all knew as "spy clothing."  

"Admiral, Colonel, Commander, these are Charlie, Henry
and Jake. They've worked with me for years now.
Charlie is retired CIA, and Henry and Jake are retired
NSA. They're younger than me, as you can see, but we
became really good friends since I trained them" he
said and winked at them, a smile quickly growing on
each of their faces. It was similar to JAG. The family
atmosphere that surrounded the place made at least Mac
feel more at ease. 

However, the heaviness of her heart did not diminish
one bit. The love of her life, her other half, her
soul mate was out there, somewhere, going through God
knows what at the hand of a demented soul who's only
purpose was to gain revenge for something that didn't
even happen. Tears welled up in her eyes and she lost
all contact with her surroundings as her mind drifted
back to the morning she had seen him last.

After the most magical night of her entire life, she
had awoken to find those steely blue-greens fixed on
her, seeing right through to her very soul. He was
perfect. To her, he was god-like. She knew that it had
nothing to do with seeing him through the eyes of
love. Any woman would choose him if it were their
choice to make. Waking up in his arms, finding him
towering over her, protecting her, it was the greatest
feeling in the world. Breaking into a smile, she
remembered how they made love that morning, how not
even the awareness of time had prevented them from
indulging in the most sacred of deeds.  

A few shouts of her name broke through her reverie and
she quickly realized she'd been snatched once again
from that place in her memory where everything felt
okay. The place reserved only for thoughts of her
Sailor. Blinking repeatedly she fought hard to focus
her eyes as fast as she could, only to find six pairs
of masculine eyes gazing directly at her. Apparently
she had spent more time than she thought reminiscing.
Even in his absence the Squid threw her off balance.
Narrowing her eyes at the men that were now sporting
frowns on their faces, she felt fresh tears slide down
her cheeks. 'Oh, God' she thought as she furiously
dabbed away at the liquid emotions clouding her
vision. 

"I'm sorry" her voice etched with sentiment. 

"No need to apologize, Colonel. I know what I need to
know about you and your Sailor. I think we all do" Don
said and smiled a heartwarming almost father-like
smile. Mac blushed prettily and simply lowered her
head. Dozens of scenarios were cascading through her
mind, and at that moment the reality of all she stood
to lose wrenched her heart. What would Harm do if he
were in her place? The answer immediately gripped her,
and raising her head, she looked on, a totally
different attitude radiating. Gone was the lovesick
defenseless girl role she had allowed herself to slip
into before. She was a Marine, the love of her life
was a Naval officer, in danger, and she was duty bound
to do her damn best to get him back home in one piece.
All looked on at her change in demeanor and as she
laid her hand on the table they could almost see the
Marine Corps ring shine a little brighter, proud of
the woman Marine who wore it. 

"So, what do we do?" Mac asked directly, no beating
around the bush. She'd had enough of talking, enough
'I'm sorry's' enough 'he'll get through this.' All she
wanted to do was get on a damn transport and go rescue
her Sailor. He would do it for her. He would risk it
all for her and nothing would stand in the way of it. 

"Damn it tell me what to do or I swear to God I'm
going to..."

"Lt. Colonel Mackenzie stand down!" the Admiral raised
his voice, expecting exactly what he got; the full
attention of his officer. 

"Mac, we can't just go into this head first. We need
to know what we're dealing with here. I promise you we
will move heaven and earth to get him back safe, but
we need to know where we stand first. Battle plan,
sound mission planning, reconnaissance, stop me when
this starts getting familiar..."

"I know Admiral. It's just that... He would... well...
I ...he wouldn't just..." The Admiral simply nodded
his understanding, while the rest just looked on in
expectation. Sturgis gave her a reassuring smile and
squeezed her hand in a show of comfort. 

"Thank you. I'm ready. What now?"

"Now we wait. We should be able to get more
information from Lt. Hawks this evening as soon as
she's transported to Bethesda. Because we can't risk
leaving this place, we will set up a secure video
conferencing connection with her at the hospital"

"Are you sure that's safe?" Sturgis asked, a little
more familiar with the way technology worked than the
Admiral and the Colonel.

"I have my ways, Commander. Now, I still have some
favors to call in, but we should have some sound recon
data to devise our plan in about 4 hours. Get some
sleep, all of you. The guys will show you how it's
done" Don said and offered a smile as he rose from his
chair and exited the room.  

AFGHANISTAN 
ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
SATURDAY MARCH 16, 2002

Clayton Webb sat in the squeaky old chair, once again
cursing himself as he thought of all the things he
could have done differently. Callahan had sure done
some observing to figure out Harm was as close as it
got to a friend for him. Thank God Annika was on
assignment. If something happened to her because of
him, he'd didn't think he could live with it. Harm
being a damn good fighter pilot had been an added
bonus. Jay and Callahan wanted revenge. Clay still
didn't understand some of it himself. If Callahan
wanted revenge against his father, then why didn't he
just kill Jay? Why didn't he kill both Jay and himself
for that matter? Why choose one and not the other?
Wouldn't it have caused more grief to lose both
children instead of one? There had to be something
else. It wasn't just revenge against his father. It
was revenge against something a hell of a lot bigger
than him. 

Clay's eyes were still fixed on the wall ahead of him
by the time Harm woke up from his drug-induced sleep.
Clay looked towards him, thankful he had come out of
his dream. He had been witness to the countless
nightmares Harm had while sleeping, Mac's name clearly
spoken in all of them. 

"I remember, Clay" were Harm's first words as he
attempted to sit up on the narrow mattress, his face
strained from the effort, and Clay was at his side,
offering his hand to support him.

"Thanks"

"Uh huh, what do you remember Harm?" 

"Well, I had a dream...uh, a nightmare just now"

"Harm, if it's one of those with Mac in them, then I
don't think I wanna know" Clay quipped in a teasing
tone, an attempt to dissolve some of the tension that
hung around the damp, smelly cell.

"Funny spook. We landed the Tomcat. Skates and I. We
were having mechanical problems. The panel was full of
blinking lights and all I could hear was Skates
screaming 'Eject! Eject'. I said no, and we attempted
the landing. We made it, and minutes later a Jeep with
three armed men arrived. One of them was Jay. Of
course we weren't armed, so when I realized they spoke
English I attempted to reason with them. One of the
other two men was leering at Skates. He told her
something about how cute she looked on a flight suit
or something and I just knew I had to do something. He
grabbed her and started kissing her... she kicked him
just as I landed a blow to his head, but the other guy
I think kicked me in the leg and Jay shot me in the
arm. After that, all I remember is limping down some
stairs and being shoved to the floor. Don't ask me
about time 'cause I have no idea how many days they've
had me like this, but it's been quite a few. God,
Clay. What did they do to Skates?" his last words were
delivered with anguish and rage mixed in them.

 Clay knew Harm's hero complex had suffered a blow,
but he also knew the guilt of not being able to help a
friend when they needed you was greater than any other
feeling he'd ever known. He'd never been truly in
love--because he was afraid of the only woman he could
ever love--so he couldn't say much for that, but
situations like these were exactly why he'd never
allowed people close to him. Not Annika, not anyone.
It hurt too damn much when people you cared for paid
for your mistakes, whether it was your fault or not. 

"I don't know Harm. Skates is a tough cookie. Anyone
would have to be to fly with you" Clay said and Harm
attempted a smile. The guilt he felt over not
protecting Skates was slowly eating at him, more and
more as his level of consciousness returned with the
drugs leaving his system. 

"Why did he bring me here, Clay? Why have us here in
the same cell?"

Clay took a deep breath. "Because he knows you're a
friend. If I tried to escape it'd be easier if I were
on my own. I don't have much experience getting out of
messed up situations with anyone's help but my own."

Harm reached out and squeezed Clay's shoulder briefly
as he hung his head. Harm understood now why Callahan
and Jay had kidnapped him and why they had him there.
Clay would never leave Harm behind. Because in all the
years of observing that Callahan had under his belt,
he'd never seen Clay as close to anyone outside the
CIA as he was to Harm. Granted, they weren't best
friends, but whatever humanity Clay had within him,
would never allow him to leave the closest thing to a
friend he had behind. If they could keep Harm drugged
and injured, then it would be all the more difficult
for them to escape. 

"We'll get out of here Harm. You'll see. I'll get you
back to Mac" Harm simply nodded and laid back against
the wall once again; tiredness and exhaustion
enveloping him once more. Clay noticed the moment
sleep over took him and got ready for his next window
of opportunity. The systems inside the building went
down for maintenance every two days. For two weeks now
he had been monitoring it, getting ready to make his
move. All he needed was thirty seconds of airtime to
communicate and their exact location could be
pinpointed. All he had to do now was wait. In exactly
3 hours and 35 minutes what could be his last window
of opportunity would open, and he needed to be ready
to take advantage of it.

SAFE HOUSE
WASHINGTON D.C.
SATURDAY MARCH 16, 2002
2044 EST

Back in Washington, the plan had been laid out. Now
all they needed was whatever information Skates could
give them and they would be ready to depart. The only
way was to get to Clay and Harm before Callahan did.
There was no doubt in their minds that Callahan would
disclose Jay's exact location and risk killing Harm,
Clay, and Jay himself to save his own neck. The way
things looked, the government was simply waiting for
the correct location to authorize an air strike. It
wouldn't be an easy task, and they all knew it. The
ZNN report the day before had pointed fingers at the
DCI as head of the terrorist group 420 and
consequently responsible for the terrorist threats to
the USS Theodore Roosevelt and other military bases.
That same morning, Callahan had hosted a press
conference, in which he had stated clearly that the
United States of America would not stand for anyone on
its own territory to assume the role of terrorist.
Callahan had vividly spoken as he addressed the media
and the people in attendance, so much that had they
not known of Callahan's true motives, Mac, Sturgis,
and the Admiral would have believed him. 

"I always told Callahan he'd be better off as an actor
than a covert ops agent" Don had uttered
contemptuously after watching the show Callahan had
put on for the media. According to the latest
information Don had received from his contacts, the
Department of Defense was taking extreme measures to
bring down "Webb" and his terrorism campaign against
his own country; with Callahan leading all efforts as
acting DCI, of course. 

The situation was getting worse by the minute. Harm
had had rough landings before. He was a damn good
pilot, she knew it, but it did nothing to minimize the
fear creeping up within her every time she thought of
her Sailor. 

Mac watched carefully as the equipment was set up for
their video conference call to Skates at the hospital.
There really wasn't much she could do other than wait.
There was a silence in the room, probably because
everyone knew whatever Skates had to tell them would
probably make their plan rough up on the edges.
Callahan and Jay had proven to be smart enough by
getting away with a terrorism threat and turning the
whole country against the innocent people. The news
had come a few minutes before that Mac, Sturgis, and
the Admiral, along with Donald Trent, were now part of
the most wanted list the government had made public.
The chances of the plan running smoothly were getting
slimmer by the minute. 

"It's ready" Don nodded at Charlie as he acknowledge
the information.

"All right, let's get to it"

Mac watched as Skates appeared on the screen, a hunted
look on her face she could only guess resulted from
guilt. After all, she was in a comfortable hospital
bed, while some wacko with a personality complex held
Harm hostage somewhere half a world away. Anger surged
within her as the thoughts of Harm once again escaped
the place where she kept them locked away. Just as her
brain screamed at her to blame Skates, to let it all
out, she heard her start to speak, her eyes darting
towards the screen once again.

"I'm so sorry" Skates whispered miserably, tears
stinging her eyes, her voice choked by the raw emotion
there. Peter was quickly at her side, holding her
hand, wiping away the tears that fell down her cheeks.
Mac's anger dissolved at once. The wretched tone in
Skates declaration told her all she needed to know. It
wasn't her fault. It was nobody's fault, other than
Jay's and Callahan's. Sturgis reached out, and once
again squeezed her hand, letting her know he was there
for her if she needed him.

Skates recounted for them the same story Harm had told
Webb miles away. How they had landed roughly but
uninjured, how the three men had appeared minutes
later and had kicked and shot Harm when he tried to
protect her. Mac had been able to restrain her
outburst of tears so far, but the minute Skates
mentioned that he had been shot Mac's heart stopped.
Harm was injured, and alone, and they were probably
not taking good care of him. For all she knew, he
could be bleeding to death from a gunshot wound and
there was nothing she could do. Her eyes closed as
tears fell once again, Skates' next words were simply
noise invading her ears. 

"I tried to get away, Sir, but I couldn't" Skates
continued on with her tell of the events after her and
Harm had been separated. "They took Harm and headed
north. The other two guys grabbed me and knocked me
out cold. A few hours later I woke up and found myself
in a room. There was a third guy there, and they were
all looking at me, a weird expression in their faces.
I knew if I didn't do something I wouldn't live to
tell the story"

Her voice broke once again and Peter hugged her to
him, mindful of her injuries, and she cried as the
images ran through her mind. "Shhh, it's okay, Beth.
You're okay now. Please don't cry" Peter whispered
softly to her as her arm tightened around his waist.

"No, I have to do this" she sniffed one last time and
mentally composed herself. Facing the screen once more
she continued. "One of them started advancing towards
me. I saw the gun perched on his pants and realized it
was my only chance. He started... touching me... and
I... well... when he was a little distracted I reached
for his gun and shot him. The other two came running
to his side and I aimed at both. Apparently they
weren't intimidated by me, so they kept walking
towards me. I kicked one of them hard as he neared me,
but the other one got hold of my hand. He pulled me
towards him, attempting to grab the gun, and when it
was right between him and me, the gun went off. I shot
him too... I... I had to... Harm needed my help and
I... oh God..." breaking down in sobs as Peter once
again comforted her as best he could. A few minutes
later she composed herself enough to speak.

"The two I shot were dead, and the third one I tied
down in a chair. I used their radios to communicate
with the ship and next thing I know I'm in sickbay" 

"Why would Mr. Webb do something like that?" Peter
asked almost to himself

"He didn't" Don answered the young Lieutenant's
question. "The man you saw was Mr. Webb's twin
brother. Jay"

"Oh my God" Skates whispered "But how..."

"That's not important now. Listen. Jay has probably
already seen the reports of your rescue Skates. You're
not safe there, neither of you. I'll have my people
take you to a safe house we've arranged for you so
that you can rest and recover from your injuries and
be safe at the same time. Jay and Callahan are pretty
damn nervous right now. I bet Lt. Moore committed
suicide precisely to prevent any type of information
leakage about their plan"

"Callahan Sir?"

"Yes, I'll explain everything to you later when you
and Lt. Brooks are safe"

"No, Sir. I heard that name... they said something
about... oh God... something about a bomb..."

"Yes, Lt. They have threatened to bomb the USS
Theodore Roosevelt. The CIA apparently has people
right now looking for clues aboard the ship, but the
head of the CIA right now is Callahan, who's the one
behind the threats. I'm sure they won't..."

"No, Sir!" Skates almost screamed "Someone named
Callahan sent a message to a supposed Jay. I saw the
screen of the laptop flash. I don't remember
everything it said, but it said something about a
bomb, and the CIA building in Virginia"

"Skates, think about this now. Are you sure you..."

"Wait a minute. That means all the communication
systems at the different locations are connected. The
message was for Jay from Callahan, and neither of them
was at the building where Skates was, but the computer
still received the message. All we need to do is go
back there..." AJ reasoned as the new piece of
information fitted into the big puzzle that was the
situation.

"What about the man you tied down Skates?" Mac
answered, interested now on the turn of events.

"One of the SAR team killed him, Ma'am. He tried to
stab Lt. Jones and he was shot"

"This just doesn't make sense." AJ murmured and locked
eyes with a wide-eyed Sturgis.

"Sir, isn't this too sloppy? I mean, if this
organization, 420, is big enough to plant a bomb in a
carrier without being discovered, big enough to
threaten other military bases, then how come they let
Skates get away? How come the communication is so
unguarded that a message between Jay and Callahan can
be read by any of the men working for them? Don't you
think that's a little odd?"

"It's not whether they're sloppy or not, it's just
that we might be missing the real purpose here. We'll
never know whether the bomb threat to the USS Theodore
Roosevelt is legitimate or not" Don said thoughtfully
"The only sure link we had to Callahan and Webb was
Lt. Moore. He's dead now and..."

"Admiral!" Mac all but jumped out of her seat as an
idea crossed her mind. All looked expectantly at her
as she directed her question towards Skates, who was
listening intently to the conversation, trying as hard
she could to remember any other details that might
help figure this dilemma out.

"Skates, what did the men look like?" Mac asked.

"Well, terrorists ma'am" she answered at once. 

"No, Skates. Physically, what did they look like?"

"Well, they were for sure Middle Eastern. I can't say
from which country specifically, but I know they spoke
very little English..."

"Sir" Mac caught Skates off as she turned to look at
Don and her CO. "What if this organization, 420, isn't
as big as it sounds?" 

"What do you mean, Mac?"

"Isn't it fishy that they would go through great
trouble to injure and kidnap Harm and that they left
Skates with three men that barely spoke English and
that were not American, on top of it? Didn't Callahan
say that 420 was made up of ungrateful Americans who
held grudges against the government?"

"Yes..." Don answered cautiously

"How many Americans like those do you know, Sir?" Mac
asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Well, not many really..."

"And why would they need to turn the whole nation
against us? Don't you see... Callahan is using his own
enemy to his favor! If all he wants is to destroy Webb
he could've just killed him already. But that's not
all he wants..."

"There's only two of them!" Don exclaimed triumphantly
as the implications of Mac's question hit him full
force. "420 is only made up of Callahan and Jay. They
managed to turn the whole country upside down and it's
only the two of them. They just used Jay- or Webb's
face- to turn the whole damn country against Clay,
driving attention away from the real purpose of their
plan. Now they can get what they really want. Those
men that had Lt. Hawks most likely did it for money,
not because they knew of what was happening."

Skates interrupted once again. "They stole it! I saw
them take the laptop from the back of the Jeep while
Mr. Webb... uh... his brother was hauling Harm towards
the car. They were laughing and looking at it when I
woke up in that damn room they had me in." 

One more piece fell into place as Skates' words
confirmed their theory about the hired Middle Eastern
men. "That makes sense. It all fits in. Jay and
Callahan; they don't care about the ship. They don't
even care about their own lives. They only want
revenge from the people that supposedly hurt them..."

"The CIA" they all whispered simultaneously as
understanding finally flooded their minds. All Jay and
Callahan wanted was for someone to pay for what they'd
been through. Callahan and his jealousy of Neville
Webb years ago had planted the hatred in his heart,
guiding his actions and his thoughts. The innocent
child he had kidnapped had grown into a man full of
the hate and vengeance that Callahan, his "father",
harbored in his own heart.

AFGHANISTAN
ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
SUNDAY MARCH 17, 2002
SAME TIME
 
"Harm, wake up" Webb nudged Harm as he attempted to
wake him up. The systems were scheduled to go down for
maintenance in 8 minutes exactly. They had to get
through to Don to let him know what they'd heard.
 
"Hmmm" Harm murmured sleepily, the drugs he'd been
forced to take with his latest meal taking a toll on
his body.
 
"Harm, it's almost time" Clay spoke in a hushed voice.
He had explained his plan to Harm a couple of hours
before, and Harm had made him promise he would wake
him up when the time came. 
 
"Okay, I'm awake. Oh man, what the heck are they..."
 
"Shhh...it's time" 
 
Harm looked on as Webb turned on the device and
quickly spoke the message into the tiny object. Now
all they had to do was hope Don received the message
and understood where they were located. Clay wasn't a
spook for nothing, and he had been careful to take
notice of their location when he had managed to listen
in to one of Jay's conversations with Callahan. 
 
"I'm sorry, Clay" Harm whispered and Clay's head
jerked to back to look at his friend.
 
"What in hell are you sorry for?"
 
"I'm sorry about your brother"
 
"Oh, that" Clay said and snorted "Who cares anyway.
It's not like I knew of him before or anything"
 
"What did he say when you told him the truth about
your parents?" Harm asked.
 
Clay looked away. "I haven't told him"
 
"What? Why?"
 
"Harm, if I tell him Callahan kidnapped him out of
hate for my...our father, well, I don't now how he'll
react. He's unstable enough as it is."
 
Harm nodded, choosing his words carefully. "Have you
wondered, since you've been here, what it would've
been like if you knew about your brother before? I
mean, what would you have done?"
 
Clay stared at his hands for a long while, silence
enveloping them both, as Clay searched his brain for
an answer. He didn't have to answer that, but if there
was something he had promised himself the past couple
of weeks, it was that he would try to let his human
side show a little more. The world wasn't at fault for
his chosen profession. He had no right to alienate
those who tried to help him the way he had done all
his life. Harm, Mac, even the Admiral, they had all
been as close to friends to him as he'd ever had. He
sure was no Mother Theresa, but he knew there had to
be something he could give. Something good inside him
he could offer to those who knew him enough and still
stood by him. This was an opportunity to start living
his promise. To let Harm in a little on his convoluted
existence. 
 
"I don't know" he whispered, shaking his head "I guess
I would've wanted to find him"
 
"I think you would've too" Harm answered. He didn't
know how to get at what he really wanted to say, but
knew he had to try. Harm owed Sergei's life to Clay.
If it weren't for him, well, Harm would've probably
resigned his commission and would be doing God knows
what in God knows where. There was a hidden passion,
an invisible force that drove Clayton Webb, and the
more Harm learned about him, the more he realized Clay
and him were not that different at all.  
 
"Clay, you think there would've been a way for me to
know Jay wasn't you?" Harm asked guardedly. Clay was
CIA, but his social side still played a role on his
deductive reasoning. Clay knew where Harm was coming
from. 
 
"You mean you should've known? Or you could've known?"
 
"Clay..."
 
"Harm, I know what you mean. If you knew me a little
better you could've been able to tell that he combs
his hair differently. He pronounces a few words
differently..."
 
"And he smiles a heck of a lot more than you do" Harm
interrupted him and chuckled at Clay's look of
realization.
 
"Harm..."
 
"Listen, Clay" Harm said as he held up his hand to
silence him "I'm not telling you we have to become
inseparable now, but it wouldn't hurt if we could be
friends, and I don't have so many of those I can
afford to throw one away"
 
"And I'm guessing this change in attitude in the big
bad Navy pilot/lawyer came about since he realized he
was in love with his partner?" Clay said and smiled.
Harm quickly picked up on his meaning and chuckled.
Mac had sure changed his perspective on life, and
right at that moment he would give anything for her
arms to be around him. For her scent to fill the air
around him, for her voice to fill his ears, for her
touch to fill his need of her. 
 
"You miss her, don't you?"
 
"I love her Clay" A simple statement delivered with
all the sincerity a friend would show another. 
 
"I'm really happy for you both. You deserve it"
 
"Thanks, Spook" Clay smiled.
 
"You're welcome, Squid"
 
SAFE HOUSE
WASHINGTON D.C.
SATURDAY MARCH 16, 2002
 
Everything was clear now. There was no bomb aboard the
USS Theodore Roosevelt. There was no such thing as
threats on other military bases. All had been a set up
by Callahan to drive the attention away from what he
really wanted. He had to hand it to Callahan. That had
been one hell of a plan. Turning America's attention
towards terrorist threats to military forces overseas
and have a CIA agent like Webb be the originator of
the threats was a brilliant plan. But, once again,
Callahan had underestimated Trent. He wasn't chosen to
be DCI above Callahan for nothing. Now, it was time to
watch Callahan pay for all the grief he had caused the
Webb family. And Trent had no doubt that Callahan
would pay in hell for taking the life away from Jay.
The life he deserved with his parents and brother. 
 
"Don" Charlie spoke and interrupted his thoughts. "We
have a problem"
 
"What is it? Charlie?"
 
"Annika. She just nailed the son of a bitch down in
Venezuela yesterday night. You should've been
informed, but since Callahan's in charge for now we
didn't know until a few minutes ago. She's looking for
Clay and she's not very happy. I took the liberty of
bringing her here straight from the airport. Who knows
what Callahan might do to her if he gets his hands on
her? He's never liked her."
 
Don sighed. He knew the time would come that he'd have
to face Clay's ill-tempered partner and explain to her
the news she'd seen on TV. Annika Vranch was probably
the best field agent the CIA had, along with her
partner, Clayton Webb. 
 
"ETA?" 
 
"10 minutes, Don" Charlie finished and shot an 'I'd
hate to be you' look at Don. 
 
Mac, Sturgis and the Admiral had watched and listened
from the table where they sat. A woman in Clay's life?

 
"Uh, Don. Who's Annika?" AJ asked a little amused. 
 
Don smiled. "Annika Marie Vranch. The only person that
can put Clayton Webb in his place. His partner and his
best friend" Mac smiled at the looks on the faces of
AJ and Sturgis. They knew how it worked when partners
became close to each other. The look on Don's face
resembled immensely the look on AJ's face, and Mac
instantly knew there had to be a very interesting
story behind the Vranch/Webb partnership. 
 
"So Clay has a woman partner? Wow" Mac whispered
almost to herself.
 
"Yeah" Charlie said with a knowing _expression. "And
he'll have on pissed off CIA agent on his tail if he
doesn't get out of this one alive. I swear Annika will
follow him to hell and beat the crap out of him" he
finished and chuckled, Don joining him, and minutes
later they were laughing their guts off when they
heard the car engine turn off in front of the house.
 
Sighing, they both faced the door, waiting for her
entrance. Mac could only watch in interest. She had to
get the full story behind this one. After Clay got
Harm almost killed, well, she needed some ammunition
to get on his nerves.
 
"What the hell is going on here?" Annika roared as she
opened the door forcefully, a look of indignation on
her pretty features. Two strands of short red hair
covered her eyes, and she brushed them away angrily
with her small hands. She was tall, but not as tall as
Mac. Probably 5'7''. Her dark green eyes were dancing
around as she took in all the faces inside the room,
clearly memorizing each of them for future reference.
She wore black jeans and a long sleeve light green
sweater that contrasted perfectly with her hair and
eyes. 
 
"What are you all looking at? Where's Clay?" The first
question asked in a demanding tone, the second almost
begging for the answer she hoped for. It couldn't be
true.
 
"Don, you know there is no way Clay would do this
unless he didn't have a choice. I'd kill him myself
and he knows it"
 
"Annika, calm down please. Clay didn't do anything.
Other than get himself kidnapped by his twin brother,
that is"
 
"Kidnapped! Brother? TWIN! What are you..." her hands
went to her face as she plummeted down to the couch
near the door. 
 
"Why wasn't I informed? Why didn't you..." her shock
and desperation of not knowing Clay's fate coming
through visibly. 
 
"Annika, you were on assignment. There was no way to
communicate with you and you know that. I'm just glad
you got done with that sick bastard. How'd you get
him?"
 
Annika smiled ruefully "I busted him with the computer
files after I found out his passwords. Never thought
it'd be that easy. They didn't even touch me when I
escaped"
 
"How many down?"
 
"I killed nine of them. The rest are under custody
until this mess with the CIA is cleared" Mac
recognized the turmoil in the other woman's face.
Killing was probably the one part of her job she hated
the most, and while Mac's job description certainly
didn't include killing, she had had to deal with it
once or twice herself. 
 
Mentally shaking herself she raised her head and
defiantly spoke. "But we got 'em Don. They're all
toast" 
 
Don smiled. "I'm glad, great job Ms. Vranch"
 
"Thanks, now where in the hell is Clayton Webb, I
swear when I get my hands on him he'll be sorry he
ever went to Afghanistan without me. I told him to
wait, damn it. How could you send him alone to..."
 
"Annika, Clay's handled many, many assignments on his
own, as you have. It was just a recon mission, it
wasn't supposed to be dangerous"
 
"Damn it!" Frustration was now the most overwhelming
emotion and Annika could only lay back and close here
eyes, willing her brain to get a hold of her actions.
"I'm taking a shower now, and when I come back we'll
figure out what to do to get Clay back here so I can
kick his..." she announced boldly and stood up when
she realized there were other people in the room she
hadn't met yet. 'Geez, they probably think I'm a..."
 
"I'm sorry. I didn't introduce myself. I'm Annika
Vranch. CIA." She said politely to the military
officers that now looked at her wide-eyed. Don
proceeded to make the introductions and once they were
all acquainted Annika resumed her journey towards the
bathroom upstairs. 
 
"Darn, Don, the witness protection houses are better
looking than this dump you've got here" she teased as
she ran her hand along the table next to the stairs. 
 
"Very funny, Vranch" Don said and laughed. After
Annika seemed to be out of earshot he directed his
attention to his new friends who were still a little
in shock at meeting the vivacious red head that
apparently held a special place in Clay's life.
 
"So, I take it Clay and she are close?" Mac asked
amusedly. 
 
"Oh yeah. They've been partners for 7 years. Got off
to a rocky start, but Clay learned his place quick
enough. They're like my own children. Never thought
relationships like these had any place in the CIA did
ya?" Don said and smiled knowingly. Mac simply
shrugged. She never thought relationships like these
had any place in Clay's life, period. 
 
"Well, it's a nice surprise" AJ said and smiled. "It
shouldn't be too long now" 
 
"No. I made sure all the documents and evidence were
delivered securely to the Secretary of Defense. He and
I are old friends. I don't see how this circus can go
on much longer once the government knows the truth. I
also have a special team on Callahan's tail. He thinks
he's safe. Boy is he in for a surprise" Don finished
and smiled inwardly, mentally rubbing his hands
together in excitement. He couldn't wait to get his
hands on Callahan.

AFGHANISTAN
ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
SUNDAY MARCH 17, 2002
0345 EST
 
The last few hours had gone by with both men in
silence. Harm was experiencing some type of withdrawal
from the drugs he'd been given, and Clay just sat
there staring at the wall. 
 
"Every year we'd go to the memorial park and leave
flowers on his grave" the small tone in Webb's voice
caught Harm by surprise. Clay looked briefly at him
and then lowered his head, a sardonic smile on his
face.   
 
"April 24th. Every year we went, Dad, Mom and I; Mom
and I alone, after Dad died" 
 
Harm was speechless. He knew how it was. He could
sympathize with Webb's pain growing up, because he'd
lived through a similar thing himself. The particulars
of Neville Webb's death were not clear to him, but
somehow he knew that was subject for another time and
place. 
 
"And all this time he's been alive. I had a twin out
there all my life and I never knew. His death affected
my mother more than she'd let on. I never knew him,
but there was always a feeling I couldn't shake off.
When Don told me the story a few weeks ago I almost
lost it. That's probably why I got careless enough and
got myself kidnapped" Clay finished with a snort, and
Harm could see the frustration and slight
embarrassment clearly coming through in his words.
Clay had been beaten at his own game, and Harm knew
it'd take time for the spook to get a handle on it
all. 
 
"What'd you think the first time you saw him?" Harm
asked, quietly, knowing Clay probably just needed to
talk it out once and for all. 
 
"I thought it was a joke. That someone knew about what
Don had told me and was messing with me. But after a
while I realized he was serious, and when he told me
Callahan was his father, well, I knew it was the real
thing. Now I know why Callahan never liked me, why
there was always that tension palpable when Don and
him were in the same room..."
 
Jay chose that moment to make an entrance and threw
something at Webb. His wallet. "Here, what a shame I
didn't get to know that gorgeous partner of yours
while I visited Washington. I'm sure we would've had
some fun together"
 
"You bastard. If you touch her..." Clay was incensed
at once at the mention of Annika.
 
"I haven't touched her, brother. But other people
might have. I'd hold on to that picture if I were you,
might be the only way you'll ever see her again."
Laughing loudly Jay turned and left the room. 
 
Harm looked down at his feet where Annika's picture
had landed. Reaching down with his long arms, Harm
picked up the picture and scanned it. Raising his
head, he gazed back at Webb seconds later. 
 
"You've got a partner?" Harm asked amused. He'd never
seen Clay react that way before. She had to be very
special for him to lose it like that. 
 
"Yeah, seven years. Annika Marie Vranch" Clay answered
wistfully. His first thought after he was kidnapped
had been of her. What would she do? Would she even
find out the truth? 
 
"I take it you two are close?"
 
"Harm..." Clay drawled in a warning tone.
 
Harm held up his hand. "Listen Clay, I know how you
feel. I can see it in your eyes. I'm talking from
experience here, remember?"
 
"We're just friends, Harm. Best friends. She's saved
my life more times than I can remember, and vice
versa"
 
"But you love her" A statement, not a question.
 
Clay shot him an exasperated look. "Harm..." the
warning tone again.
 
"Okay, okay. But just so you know, after keeping it
inside for so long, it feels damn good to let it out.
Just say it Clay"
 
"Harm, there's no place for fairytale endings like
yours and Mac's in the CIA, okay? Our jobs are too
damn dangerous for us to get involved. Right now,
she's undercover in some drug lord's house down in
Venezuela and I haven't had any contact with her for 4
weeks. You think that's any way to get involved with
someone?" 
 
That one statement told Harm all he needed to know.
Mac had almost died in his arms once, she'd been under
attack while away from him, she'd almost gotten
married while he swam around in the Atlantic, she'd
been kidnapped by that psycho Coster... Harm knew
about the worry and anxiety one goes through when
someone you love is in danger. Fortunately, that
wasn't an every day occurrence at JAG. Clay, on the
other hand, went through it almost every day. The
realization spoke volumes, and one more piece of the
puzzle that was Clayton Webb fell into place. 
 
"Clay, I didn't say to tell her, I didn't even say you
had to act on your feelings. I'm just telling you that
denial is the worst way to go."
 
Clay laughed sarcastically. "That's why you didn't
waist any time with Mac now, isn't it?" The look of
pain and regret that crossed Harm's face made him
regret his words immediately. 
 
"Harm... I didn't meant to..."
 
"No, you're right, Clay. Mac and I wasted too much
precious time, and from what I can tell, you and
Annika have too" Harm said softly and looked up at the
spook he now could call his friend.
 
"Yes" was Clay's simple answer. "I do love her. I have
for the longest time, but she deserves better. You've
got to meet her Harm, she's amazing" Clay finished and
Harm smiled at the sudden enthusiasm on his voice, the
light in his eyes. 
 
"When did you know, Clay? When did you know you loved
her?" Harm asked him gently. Maybe women were known
for these types of talks more than men, but it didn't
sound like a bad idea at the moment.
 
Clay sat there silently thinking over his answer. How
do you explain to someone when you fell in love? He'd
never done it before. Maybe he could tell Harm about
the day they met. Or about the day he got his first
dressing down from his daring new partner. He could
tell Harm about their first undercover assignment. Or
about the overwhelming fear every time she was in
danger. Whatever he chose to tell him, he had a
feeling Harm would understand. 
 
"We started working together in March of that year. We
had many ups and downs, many fights, many
reconciliation dinners. It was Christmas, and I knew I
wouldn't make it home in time for Christmas Eve dinner
with my mother. I returned home December 26, and there
she was in my apartment. It was all decorated in the
Christmas spirit. She cooked dinner for me and bought
me that nice dress shirt we'd seen at the mall a few
months back during an assignment. I should've told her
that day. I should've told her I loved her then. We'd
probably be married with a family by now."
 
Harm had listened closely to Clay's story, and was
amazed at how identical his situation with Mac was to
Clay's. Maybe he had more in common with the spook
than he'd thought. 
 
"Clay... I really think you should..."
 
Clay's mask fell back in place as quickly as it had
vanished. "I'm not good enough for her, Harm. End of
story. Now we should really concentrate on how to get
out of here. I don't think the message I sent to Don
was received. I should've gotten confirmation" Clay
finished with a scowl, looking away, signaling
silently the end of the male bonding period. 
 
Harm recognized his attempt at changing the subject,
and realizing getting out of there was more important
than discussing the intricate details of their love
lives, he decided to go along with Clay and figure out
a way to escape. He was feeling a lot better. The
withdrawal from the drugs wasn't that bad. His leg was
still in pain, but it didn't feel like it was broken.
His arm was wrapped and the bleeding had stopped
considerably. 
 
"You think there are other guards here? I didn't see
any when they brought me. How about you?" Harm asked.
 
"No, I didn't see any. I think we could make it if we
could get a hold of Jay in here and get his gun." Harm
nodded and they proceeded to lay out their plan to
escape. Harm had always prided himself on being an
observant person. But the things Clay had noticed
about the place were amazing. 'I learned from the
best' was all Clay had said when Harm had asked him
about his CIA training. There were still many things
Harm wanted to know about his friend the spy. There
would be time for that later. For now, all he wanted
to do was get out of there so he could see Mac again.

SAFE HOUSE
WASHINGTON D.C.
SUNDAY MARCH 17, 2002

"Showtime" Don murmured as he readied himself to leave
the house. 

"I don't need to tell you, Don. But be careful.
Callahan's lost it already. He won't hesitate to kill
you if he feels cornered" Annika said and gave him a
brief hug. Don hugged her back and placed a soft
fatherly kiss on her forehead. 

"I'll be fine, Annika. You go now and get that partner
of yours back here in one piece."

She simply nodded and stepped away from him, watching
with a faraway expression as he got in the car and
headed out to confront Callahan. They had a pretty
good idea as to where Jay was, but had agreed that Don
would be in contact with them as soon as he got more
information on his whereabouts. Minutes before, Don
had communicated directly with the Secretary of
Defense, who had agreed to their plan and had promised
his full support to catch Callahan and Jay. It was
Sunday, and the special team Don had assigned to watch
Callahan had reported seeing him at CIA Headquarters
in Langley. There was no doubt in Don's mind about
what Callahan intended to do. Now it was up to him to
stop him. 

"I know he'll be fine" Annika said convincingly as she
felt Mac's presence behind her. The two women had
taken an immediate liking to each other once they
started talking. They had so much in common, and they
even looked alike, only difference being Annika's
reddish hair and green eyes. 

"And Harm will be too. I can tell you miss him like
crazy" Annika said, smiling wryly at Mac as she turned
around to face her. 

"Just as much as you miss Clay, and it's killing me
that I'm a Marine and I haven't been able to do
anything to get them back until now"

"It's a very delicate situation, Mac. Storming the
beaches would probably not be the best way to handle
this one, Marine" Annika answered and chuckled along
with Mac. It was better than crying.

"So, are you gonna tell him you love him?" Mac asked
casually.

Annika gasped in surprise and looked away. "We're
friends Mac. I've been telling you since we met"
Annika answered, failing miserably to hide the
disappointment on her face.

"I don't doubt it. Harm and I were friends for about
as long as you and Clay have been. I don't know what I
would do if I lost him, and I certainly don't want to
find out" Mac finished, her voice breaking slightly as
she thought of Harm once more. She had tried so hard
to be strong, telling herself that he was okay, that
they were after Clay and not him. That Callahan would
soon be caught and Harm would return safely to her.
But she also knew he had been shot, and he was hurt,
and probably alone. Her heart broke every time she
thought of him, and all she wanted to do was get on a
damn plane and go find him. She'd swim across the
ocean if it were the fastest way to get to him. It was
so damn frustrating to have her hands tied. 

Annika watched Mac as the emotions played across her
face. That's exactly what she'd been afraid of since
she'd met Clay. It was hard enough to know he was
constantly in danger now. If they became involved like
Harm and Mac, well, she was sure she'd lose her sanity
sooner than later. She felt like yelling and screaming
and crying every time Clay was in danger, but her
strict training and the emotional walls she'd built
around herself prevented her from any such emotional
outbursts. Besides, Clay had never indicated he was at
all romantically interested in her. She couldn't risk
their friendship, their partnership. It meant the
world to her, and if there was something in this world
she knew she couldn't handle it was losing him. 

CIA HQ
LANGLEY, VA
SUNDAY MARCH 17, 2002

Callahan was starting to feel a little nervous. He
knew Trent was on his tail. He'd attempted
communication with Jay and hadn't been able to get
through. They'd known each other so long that they
could very well anticipate each other's moves. Trent
had disappeared Friday morning, and now, 48 hours
later, there was no sign of him. Callahan knew his
plan wasn't as secure as it should've been, but years
of repressed anger and vengeance bottled up inside had
taken their toll, and now all he wanted was to hurt
them. To hurt, Webb, Trent and everyone who had a damn
to do with the CIA. 

"Stop!" Don yelled as he reached his office. Callahan
was already there, and Don knew what he was after. The
bomb squad was ready to come in, but he had a personal
score to settle first. 

Callahan turned around, masking well his surprise.
"You're faster than I thought, Trent. Took you long
enough to figure out my plan. Losing your touch
Agent?" he said and laughed sarcastically.

"Callahan, you're gonna be one sorry SOB by the time
I'm done with you"

"Oh, Don. You always had the gift for comedy, didn't
ya? I see you've taken the picture of your precious
little family reunion with the Webbs. I came in here
looking for it" Callahan murmured as he raised his
hand from where it rested behind his back and pointed
the gun at him squarely on his head, mimicking Don's
gun pointed at his own forehead. 

"Think about this now, Callahan. Do you really want
to..."

"That's enough! I don't want to hear another word from
you or I swear I will..."

"Drop it, Callahan" A voice called from behind, and
Callahan slowly turned to see Charlie there, his gun
pointed at him. "Not until you pay," he whispered, his
eyes darkening with rage. 

"It wasn't our fault what happened back during 'Nam
you know? They simply didn't pick you. Neville and I
didn't want it that way. We were friends James. Why
did you blame us?" Don was desperately trying to avoid
bloodshed. 

"I said enough! You were never my friends. All you
cared about was your precious little families. You
never cared about me! And now you and the damn CIA
will pay!" he shouted as he turned fully towards Don
once again. Quickly, Don dodged to the side and
avoided the bullet that went by his head at the same
time that Charlie fired in Callahan's direction. 

"Charlie! The bomb! We need to know where..." Don
shouted at Charlie as he hurried over to Callahan's
side.

"We got it, Don. The bomb squad's on it as we speak"
Don looked up in a daze. "But how..."

"We found the safety box in Callahan's office. We also
have Jay's exact location. The others have already
been informed" pausing for a second, Charlie seemed to
compose himself to continue  "Jay killed himself, Don.
An hour ago. Clay and Commander Rabb are on their way
to the USS Theodore Roosevelt. From there they'll fly
to Andrews and Rabb will be transferred to Bethesda.
He's in stable condition at the moment. Our guys in
Afghanistan came through, Don. We did good"

Don sighed heavily and dropped to the floor, right
next to the lifeless body of the man that he'd once
called a friend, but who had caused so much pain to so
many people throughout his life. Hearing of Jay's
suicide broke his heart. He had hoped that maybe after
the whole situation was cleared up, that Jay would get
to know the truth. That he could be reunited with his
family, and that way he'd fulfill that promise he'd
made to his best friend Neville Webb before he died.
Fate had decided otherwise, and Jay's life had ended
without him ever learning the real truth. Clay had a
long road ahead of him now, including telling his
mother about the events of the last month, but he
wouldn't do it alone. As long as he lived, Clayton
Webb would be protected to the extent of his ability.
Now, after the waters leveled back down; that's when
the hard part would start. The healing process.
Accepting what had happened and learning to live with
it. However, he knew that even when the day came that
he couldn't be there for Clay, he would still have his
red headed partner, his best friend, his soul mate.
Clayton Webb still had a lot of things to learn.
Learning to love was one of them.

OVER THE ARABIAN SEA

Clayton Webb stared out the window, off into the deep
blue ocean, focusing as much as he could on forgetting
the events of the past two hours. Life in the CIA had
never been a ticket to a good night's sleep, but the
greater good of the country he served had always been
first and foremost to him. On occasions, focusing on
the good instead of the bad always helped him to do
the job, sign the report, and turn the page to a new
start. This time, turning the page didn't feel like
the solution. This time he'd have to not just turn the
page; this time he'd have to start a whole new book.
Against his will, his mind once again transported him
back in time, to relive the fateful events. 

*****

"You ready?" Clay asked his friend once again as the
time drew nearer to put their plan into action. 

"Yeah. Let's do it."

A few minutes later, Jay entered the small room, and
with an evil smirk handed each of his prisoners a
wrinkled paper bag which- they knew- contained their
food. Clay got ready and with one look at Harm, they
both launched at Jay, Webb immediately taking
possession of the gun he wore on the waistband of his
faded jeans. Jay tried to fight Webb, but 200 pounds
of Sailor was not an easy obstacle to overcome, so in
the end, he found the tables turned. 

Clay and Harm took their time securing each room in
the old abandoned building. It didn't seem like a big
powerful terrorist organization would be able to
coordinate such attacks as Jay had outlined to them
before from a place like this.  There was no one there
other than Jay. No guards, no more guns. Nonetheless,
the threat to the USS Theodore Roosevelt had been
number one on their minds, followed by their plan to
return safely home. Finally, Clay found a hidden
cabinet on the wall where Jay kept a cell phone and a
laptop. Quickly he ran through the numbers listed, and
realizing the first priority was to stop the attack on
the carrier, he dialed the first number he found.
Callahan's. Clay's jaw dropped as he heard Don's voice
on the other end. Carefully, Don explained without
much detail the situation and had also told them a SAR
team was on its way to them. Jay's screams caused him
to end his conversation and as he turned around, he
found Harm, on his knees, the gun he'd held now thrown
on the floor. 

"He's not dead. He can't be dead!" Jay screamed, and
Clay realized he had repeated out loud what Don had
just told him on the phone. 

"Jay, Callahan's dead. It's over" Clay said firmly, as
he hurried over to Harm's side and laid him back
against the wall. Apparently Jay had once again put
some sort of drug on the food Harm had eaten earlier.
Jay's sobs made Clay turn again and as he looked at
his twin brother, tied to the chair, crying, he felt
something he'd never felt before. 

"I'm sorry. You deserve to know the truth...." And as
Clay explained to his brother the truth about
Callahan, the truth about who he was, the truth about
his parents, he witnessed Jay's anger boil away and
turn into sadness. Clay was surprised Jay believed him
so easily; but they were twins after all. However,
Clay quickly recognized that Jay's reaction was not
that of a mentally stable person. Callahan had never
been mentally stable either, in Clay's opinion. 

The sound of the helicopter approaching the building
took Clay away from his thoughts, and he watched, as
Jay's eyes grew wide. Minutes later, the team was
inside the building, and Clay ordered them to take
care of Harm first. Returning to Jay's side, Clay
noticed his pleading eyes, and feeling a tinge of
compassion for his look-alike, he proceeded to untie
him, his gun still in his hand. However, as soon as
Jay was free to use his arms, he jerked his body
around forcefully, catching Clay off guard and
unprepared. Jay's hand took hold of the gun in Clay's
grip, and as Clay fell back on the floor from Jay's
push, he watched as his brother took the gun and
pointed at his own head. Seconds later, after a last
glance at Clay through watery eyes and a muttered 'I'm
sorry', Jason Webb ended his life. 

*****

What he lived through that day would haunt him for the
rest of his adult life, and as the helicopter
initiated its decent towards the USS Theodore
Roosevelt, Clayton Webb did something he hadn't done
in years; he prayed. 

NEXT DAY
ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE

It'd been a long 24 hours since they'd gotten the news
about Jay's death and had been assured Harm and Clay
were on their way. Annika was a mess of nerves, pacing
the terminal endless times. Clay had been in danger
numerous times before, but this time the enormity of
what might have happened was slowly driving her
insane. If she'd only finished her assignment sooner.
Maybe she could've helped. Maybe Clay's twin brother
wouldn't be dead. Feeling her heart breaking for the
man she secretly loved, Annika walked slowly towards
the exit, knowing Clay would walk through that door
any minute.

Glancing over at her new friend Mac, Annika prayed the
other woman had enough strength to handle the sight of
Harm unconscious. Apparently he had been heavily
drugged, and nearly poisoned to death minutes before
Jay's death. However, she found herself drawing
strength from the brave Marine standing next to her.
Mac had shared with her many of her adventures with
Harm. Annika had asked if they weren't secret CIA
agents. Both women had shared a good laugh at that
one, but the truth was that Sarah Mackenzie and Harmon
Rabb had been in more dangerous situations than any
lawyer she'd ever heard of. Knowing all this, she
understood why Mac seemed so calm, and yet so anxious
to see her Sailor. 'Hey, as long as he's not dead,
I'll take him however I can get him' Mac had said to
her in one of those heartfelt conversations the two
had had. Annika simply nodded. She felt the same about
Clay, and even though she felt like she could trust
Mac, she still couldn't admit it even to herself. 

Don stood a few steps behind both women, silently
studying their demeanors. Part of his job was to read
people, and being friends with Clay and Annika for so
long only helped to do his job better. He could read
them like a book.  The love they shared was obvious to
anyone who knew them, anyone but themselves. He'd had
long vivid conversations with the Admiral, and from
what he'd learned, Harm and Mac had been on the same
road Clay and Annika were in. He hoped the two couples
would stay close after this. Maybe seeing themselves
in someone else would help them realize what they were
missing. What they could have if they just let go of
the fear of losing each other. 

The voice announcing the arrival of the flight broke
through their thoughts, and the three quickly walked
closer to the terminal exit. Mac seemed anxious, Don
was simply ecstatic, and Annika looked like she was
ready to fight a hundred armed men. 

"Relax, Annika. He's fine, you'll see"

Annika scoffed. "Yeah, but will he still be after I'm
through with him?" Mac burst out laughing. That's
exactly the same way she'd try to hide her feelings
before she and Harm got together. Whenever he'd get
himself in a mess, she'd feel like ripping his throat
out. It was a good way to mask the concern and fear of
him not coming back to her. She'd done it countless
times, and now she saw how foolish it looked from an
outsider point of view. 

"Annika, don't be too hard on him now. It wasn't his
fault, you know?" Don soothed, attempting to calm the
nerves of the young woman. Annika simply nodded and
waited. 

Minutes later, the doors opened and there he stood,
Clayton Webb in the flesh. His eyes searched quickly
and thankful for the security that had kept the press
outside, he walked purposefully towards the faces he
recognized. 

Coming closer, he finally reached them and Don
enveloped him in a manly hug first. "Thank you" Clay
whispered to him, and Don merely nodded. Releasing him
seconds later Clay turned quickly towards Annika,
simply staring at her for a few seconds before he
spoke. 

"Aren't you gonna give your partner a hug?" Clay
asked, half-jokingly, half-shyly. He knew how she got
when he was in danger. Annika had never had a problem
telling him exactly what she felt. He was the one that
sucked at showing emotion. 

"I should kick your six for not waiting for me to go"
she waited a few seconds, her jaw tight, and for a
minute there Clay thought he'd have to really beg this
time. "But I'll forgive you because I know it wasn't
your fault" This brought a huge smile to Clay's face.
Annika smiled back and an instant later they were
wrapped up in a desperate embrace. 

Mac had never seen Clay really smile. This was a new
side of Clay she'd never known even existed, but
according to Annika he was charming, caring, and
loyal. Well, she just needed to see it with her own
eyes. 

"Lt. Colonel Mackenzie?"

"Yes, that's me"

"Please follow me, ma'am. The helo's waiting for you
to depart" Mac nodded and accepted a small hug from
Clay, who managed to startle her when he told her he
was sorry with such sincerity. Something big had
happened over the past week that had changed Clayton
Webb. There'd be time to figure that out later, for
now she just wanted to see her Sailor.

TWO DAYS LATER
BETHESDA MEDICAL CENTER
 
Mac sat quietly at Harm's bedside. He was still
indulging in a fitful sleep after all the medication
he'd been given for the pain in his leg and his
gunshot wound. She hadn't seen him in a week, but it
felt like months to her. His normally lively handsome
features were now dark and stoic, as the result of the
hardships, physical and mental, his body had endured.
Running a soft hand across his forehead, she sighed,
as tears welled up in her eyes for the millionth time
since she'd first seen him the night before. He still
hadn't spoken to her, she hadn't seen his eyes, hadn't
felt his skin knowingly touching hers, but he was
there, and he was alive, and for now, that's all that
mattered. 
 
Leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to his
temple, smoothing his hair softly with her fingers,
her eyes roaming over his face. A soft smile grew on
his lips at her touch and she smiled back
enthusiastically when she felt his hand squeeze hers
lightly. A few more squeezes and his bright
blue/greens opened to gaze at her. 
 
"Hi" he murmured softly, blinking to adjust to the
light and focus on her face. He felt like jumping up
and swirling her around the room, but his body wasn't
cooperating.
 
"Hi there, Sailor. How are you feeling?" she asked him
gently as she pressed the button to let the nurse know
he was finally awake. 
 
"Like crap. But I'm glad you're here" He managed to
croak out and she chuckled. Harm had a gift for the
understatement. He sure looked like crap, but to her
he was the most precious sight in the world.
 
"I love you" she whispered softly as she felt his hand
squeeze hers once again, a ghost of his flyboy smile
on his lips. Not enough energy to muster that full
charming smile, yet, but she'd take whatever she got.
 
"Love you too..." he mumble quietly, still managing to
give the words that tender touch only he could pull
off lying on a hospital bed after days of involuntary
drug abuse. 
 
Mac smiled, and reached up to brush a tender kiss to
his lips. As much as he could, he mimicked her action,
and seconds later they parted as the doctor came
waltzing into the room. Looking up at the older man
they held their breaths for his words. 
 
"Well, I see you've decided to join us Commander Rabb"
Harm simply nodded, not wasting energy on a smile. 
 
"And I assume you'd like to know when you can take
your Sailor home, ma'am" Mac smiled and looked over at
Harm who had a look of utter mirth on his face as he
realized he was in for some major Marine pampering.
Normally, he would object. However, once more his life
had been threatened, and this time it had scared him
more than usual. He had Mac to come home to now, and
every chance he got to spend time with her he would
welcome with open arms, circumstances notwithstanding.

 
"Yes, Doctor" Mac answered amused at the look on
Harm's face. The doctor simply ignored them. He knew
how the game was played.
 
"Well, the Commander here should be ready to go home
within 12 hours" he held up his hand quickly before
Mac could speak "Only under supervision and his word
that he'll take his medicine and take it easy for at
least two weeks. That arm will need some time to heal,
as well as your leg, even though it wasn't broken."
 
"Understood, doctor" Mac answered and Harm nodded. It
wasn't so bad to have Mac doing the talking after all.
If he'd let her do that sooner maybe he'd have less
scars and more happy memories to count.
 
"Very well" the doctor finished and left them alone
once again. 
 
"Hear that, Squid? I get to take care of you for a
couple of weeks!" Mac said, excitement showing on her
face. Harm smiled at her "Only for a couple of weeks?"
he asked pleadingly. She chuckled.  
 
"Your place or mine?"
 
MAC'S APARTMENT
NEXT DAY
 
Once again, she watched him sleep. He looked so
peaceful, so unburdened, so...free. She'd give
anything to see him look like that when he awoke. But
she knew better. Just like her, Harmon Rabb, Jr. had
lived enough to bear the scars, the memories. Maybe
she couldn't take them away, or replace them, but she
was willing to share them, if that would somehow make
it less painful. Mac knew it would take some time for
him to open up about the events in Afghanistan, but
once again, having him alive and well was more
important than anything else. 
 
"Hmmm, Mac... I'm...coming back... I promise...
wait..." The nightmare was back, the dream. The same
one he'd had so many times while he'd been held at
that awful place half a world away. This time he could
see her face, he could hear her calling him, he could
see her crying, accepting the flag... moving on with
her life, just like his mother had done after his
father didn't return.  
 
Mac came running from the kitchen at his tortured
screams. The image of the man she loved more than
life-- twisting and turning, tears running down his
handsome face- made the protective side of her come
alive. Quickly leaning over him on the side of the
bed, she attempted to wake him, holding him steady,
whispering loving words to him as she watched him
recognize her presence and physically calm down. His
breath was still shallow, and drops of sweat trickled
down the side of his face, merging with the tears he'd
shed. 
 
"Harm, wake up, please. I'm here, Harm. Honey, wake
up... come on" she pleaded with him over and over
until his eyes opened slowly. Immediately he reached
for her, crushing her to him in a desperate embrace
that startled her at first.
 
"I thought it was real" he whispered, anguish and pain
noticeable on his tone. 
 
"What, Harm? Tell me what you saw, please" Mac
murmured as she placed dozens of soft kisses
everywhere on his face she could reach. 
 
Closing his eyes, Harm began relating his dream. "I...
I was coming back. Just like I promised... but
something wouldn't let me. I saw you, Sarah. You
were... you were crying and I wanted to tell you I was
okay, that I was alive, that I was coming back, but
you couldn't hear me, you wouldn't... you wouldn't
wait..." his voice broke and a sob escaped him as she
held him tighter against her. 
 
Thinking over his words, she understood. The
revelation caught her off guard and she attempted
unconsciously to pull away from him, but the grip he
had on her was too strong. Finally leaning back into
his embrace, she let the tears fall, mingling with
his, as she finally realized why it'd taken them so
long to get to where they were now. Why he'd said 'not
yet', why he'd pushed her away, why he never tried to
stop her engagement to Mic. And as these thoughts ran
through her mind, the guilt she'd felt everyday since
accepting Mic's ring surfaced once again. Things were
too jumbled up for Harm to realize the implications of
his dream at the moment. But Sarah Mackenzie knew she
was responsible for some of it. And she knew some day
they'd have to talk about it, but not now. Right now
the man she loved needed comfort, reassurance, not a
walk down memory lane.
 
 Harmon Rabb, Jr. was not as emotionally independent
as everyone made him out to be. He wasn't stupid,
dumb, nor was he socially inept, as she'd labeled him
so many times in her fits of anger and frustration. On
the outside, he was just a typical male; but on the
inside, lived a tormented soul who'd lost so much in
his life he didn't believe happy endings were possible
anymore. 
 
"Harm, you were kidnapped, and held hostage for almost
a week, but you did come back. You don't have to be
afraid anymore, Harm. You're not your father. You came
back to me and I waited for you. I would've waited
forever. Open your eyes, Harm. Please, just look at me
and let it go" she whispered softly and watched as his
eyes opened and focused on her. She was real, even
more real to him than she'd been in his dream, and for
the first time since that fateful day he'd mourned his
father as a little boy, Harmon Rabb, Jr. started to
believe in happy endings. 
 
"Sarah, I..."
 
"Harm, it will take time. But I promise you, I'll make
you believe" and with a new round of tears sliding
down her cheeks, she kissed him, letting the love
emanate from her unrestrained, as she'd dreamed of
doing so many times before. 
 
"I love you" was all he could say. His arms tightened
around her, as much as he could with his injured side,
and he knew it would be okay. There was a new purpose
now, life had a new meaning, and at that moment, he
made a silent vow to fight for the happily ever after
they both deserved. 

THREE DAYS LATER
MAC'S APARTMENT
1856 EST
 
"Harm, what time did Clay say he was coming?" Mac
asked from the kitchen, where she was putting the
final touches on the dinner she'd cooked, with Harm's
guidance of course.
 
"Uh, 1900?" Harm answered from his place in the couch.

 
It had been a hard week for them both. The Admiral had
given Mac the week off to take care of baby Rabb, and
Mac soon realized why women always complained when
taking care of sick men. First, he had refused to take
his medicine. That obstacle had been overcome when the
pain got too bad and he begged for the pills, much to
her amusement. Then, he insisted he didn't need
therapy on his knee. The argument had lasted a few
hours, until his first session of therapy where he'd
realized his aging body needed it more than he
thought. Eating was a big problem as well. However,
she had patiently stood by him, taking it all in. She
loved him, and anything was better than taking flowers
to his grave. 
 
"Come on, take your medication before Clay and Nik get
here" Mac murmured distractedly as she handed him the
pills and the glass of water. Her hand reached out and
just as soon as she opened it he retrieved his hand to
scratch a non-existent itch on his neck. His inner,
rebellious self rejoiced at the sound of the tiny
pills hitting the floor, even though he knew he was
just delaying the inevitable. Mac wanted him drugged. 
 
Looking down at the two white spots on the carpet, and
back up to her again with his eyes wide, mouth
slightly open, he innocently questioned what had
happened. Her eyes were fixed on him as she tapped her
foot impatiently, one hand on her hip, the other one
holding the glass of water he so richly deserved to
wear on his face. 'Big baby' she thought and smiled
inwardly at his antics. Taking care of stubborn Rabb
was a full time job, but she wouldn't have it any
other way. 
 
"Harm" She was in her 'drill sergeant' mode. He
sighed, his eyes never meeting hers, a look of pure
displeasure on his face as she retreated towards the
kitchen and returned with another set of pills. 
 
"Open your mouth" A simple order. 
 
 "Maaaac..." 
 
"Do it!" There was her Marine tone again. 'Geez, where
does she think we are? Boot Camp?' Glaring he finally
complied.
 
"I like you better when you're in 'Sarah mode' you
know?" He groaned through gritted teeth as he finished
swallowing the drugs. He really hadn't meant to say
that. Especially since he wasn't physically ready to
handle her as 'Sarah'.  'I swear those damn drugs are
making me ...' Before his thought was completed her
mouth was on his, her tongue quickly playing with his
own, and just like it started it was over.
Straightening up promptly she looked down at him and
smiled as he came back down from wherever he'd gone. 
 
"I think that's all the 'Sarah' you can handle for
now, Navy. And, by the way, I like you better when you
act your age, Harmon" Recognizing her playful mood
meant she'd forgiven him for being his difficult self
earlier, he opened his mouth at once to answer, but in
a blink she was back at the kitchen. Minutes later the
knock on the door was heard. 
 
"Mac??" Harm called weakly, almost whining. 
 
"Coming" she yelled from the kitchen, chuckling at the
sight of the pouting Sailor on her couch. Walking
towards the door, she opened it widely to reveal both
CIA agents, dressed casually for a dinner with
friends. Greetings were exchanged, and seconds later
they were all sitting in the living room. Mac took her
place on the arm of the couch, draping her left hand
over Harm's shoulder, his head resting slightly on her
side. 
 
"So, how you doing Squid?" Clay asked good-naturedly
and everyone chuckled at the rolling of eyes Harm
offered. 
 
"Harm, be nice" Mac reprimanded him. Resembling a
grounded 4-year-old, he looked up at her sighing, and
at Mac's insistent gaze he turned back towards Clay
and Annika. "Sorry" he murmured in a small voice when
he realized he could be wearing dress whites and his
puppy dog eyes and Sergeant Mac still wouldn't let it
go. He had to find a new way to get what he wanted.
The two amused agents couldn't hold their laughter any
longer. 
 
"All right, all right. Enough laughing at the crippled
one in the room" Harm said and attempted a small
smile, trying his hardest to hide his frustration. 
 
"So, Nurse Mac is taking good care of you, I hear"
Annika asked from her place next to Clay. The images
his brain conjured up at the mention of Nurse Mac were
unsettling to say the least. Visions of Sarah
Mackenzie dressed in the skimpy white little outfit...

 
Harm answered enthusiastically. "Oh, yeah. She makes
me take my medicine and after..."
 
"Okay... I think what you're about to say falls under
the 'too much information' category..." Clay said,
interrupting him and eliciting a deep blush from both
JAG officers. Seconds later, Harm picked up the empty
glass and handed it to her, giving her his best
'I'm-pathetic-please-help-me' smile.
 
"How do you put up with him Mac?" Clay spoke as he
tried to contain his laughter. Whoever knew Harm could
pout? 
 
"I keep telling myself this is nothing compared to
boot camp" Mac answered casually as she kissed his
forehead softly and got up to get dinner ready on the
table, leaving Clay and Annika behind to laugh. Harm
simply stared at her retreating back. What? Was she
reading his mind now?
 
"Harm, you better get off your six before I find
myself throwing suggestions for the Navy Times
Headlines" Clay said matter-of-factly as Annika
watched on in wonder, amused to no end by the dynamics
of the trio. 
 
Harm glared. "Stuff it, Clay" 
 
 After a few minutes of laughing and good-natured
teasing among the three, Mac returned with Harm's
water, and motioned for them to sit at the table. 
 
"This is delicious, Mac"
 
"Well, Harm's the cook here, he just told me what to
do" Mac uttered as she took a big bite of the
vegetarian lasagna. 
 
"My compliments to the chef then" Annika said and
smiled at Harm and Mac. They smiled back. 
 
"So, when are you clear to go back to work?" Clay
asked Harm, while Annika and Mac chatted away
oblivious to them.
 
"Doctor said in about two more weeks for light duty"
Harm answered, taking another bite of his food.
 
"That's not too bad" Clay answered thoughtfully and
Harm nodded. Minutes later, their meal was done and
Mac and Annika retrieved to the kitchen to clean up
while Clay helped Harm over to the couch once again. 
 
"Clay, I know Jay's memorial service is tomorrow. How
you holding up?"
 
Clay looked down at his shoes for a few long seconds.
Normally, he didn't answer questions like those. He
usually evaded them, or simply changed the subject.
But this was Harm, and he remembered once again the
promise he'd made to himself to be more open with the
people that cared about him. Harm was one of them, he
knew. 
 
"I don't know. Mom didn't take it very well. She still
hasn't spoken to anyone. I'm sure she'll be fine, but
I don't know how I'll handle tomorrow."
 
"Well, both Mac and I will be there, as well as Nik
and Don. Plus the Admiral, and half the JAG staff."
Clay offered a sincere smile and a heartfelt thanks. 
 
"So, how are things with that kick-ass partner of
yours?"
 
"Harm...." He warned, once again unable to believe
that Harm was actually giving *him* advice on what to
do in the women department. 
 
Holding up his one good hand in surrender Harm spoke.
"All right, all right. I'll leave you alone. For now"
Deciding it was enough deep talk for the evening, they
switched to a heated debate over the current baseball
season. 
 
"How's he holding up with his brother's memorial
service tomorrow and all?" Mac asked quietly as her
and Annika cleaned up in the kitchen.
 
"He doesn't talk much about it, which doesn't surprise
me, but he at least let me stay with him the last
couple nights. He's been having nightmares, bad ones
Mac. He lets me hold him sometimes, but then he pulls
away. I don't know how to make them stop" A miserable
tone in her voice.
 
"You can't. You just have to be there for him, Nik. He
needs you just as much as you need him" Annika simply
nodded. It was so easy to say, but so hard to wake up
to his screams in the middle of the night knowing all
she could do was offer him temporary comfort. She'd
give anything to take it all away. But that wasn't her
place. They were just friends, and they would be for a
long time it seemed. Sighing heavily she turned to
finish the rest of the dishes and seconds later Mac
and her were involved in an interesting discussion
about pets, with Mac's stories of Jingo and Annika's
stories of her two cats.
 
The evening went by and they said goodbye, promising
to get together more often. Tomorrow they'd be at the
memorial service to offer Clay their support. Harm and
Mac both sighed as she took her place next to him once
more. 
 
"I feel so bad for Clay" She whispered, as her hand
ran aimlessly across his chest.
 
"I know, Mac. Me too. He reminds me so much of myself
you know?" Mac tilted her head up to look at him. Harm
shrugged helplessly and continued with the explanation
he knew Mac wanted, as he tucked a stray strand of
hair back behind her ear.
 
"Well, when we went to Russia, and I found out my
father was buried somewhere in that jungle, well, you
were there, but you weren't really there. Not like I
wanted you to"
 
"What do you mean?" She quickly realized that line of
conversation might somehow lead them to talk about
Harm's nightmare from a few days before. His
experience in Afghanistan had been really hard on him,
and the nightmare was just the way he was dealing with
it. All she could really do was be there for him, just
like she'd told Annika to do for Clay. At least until
she figured out if the nightmare was just a temporary
coping mechanism, or more than that.
 
"I didn't want to do that alone, Mac. I didn't want to
say goodbye to my father all by myself. I prayed for
you to walk up to me so I could hold you, but I knew
it wouldn't happen, because I always kept you at arm's
length with the 'we're just friends' routine" At once
she realized his nightmare was not what they were
talking about. He hadn't mentioned it at all, and Mac
was starting to believe she had just over reacted to
it. 
 
"I'm so sorry" she whispered as she tuned back into
their conversation and tried to figure out where Harm
was going with this. "I wanted to do more than I did,
but I was afraid you'd pull away from me. I wanted to
hold you and tell you everything would be okay. I
just... couldn't" she pleaded with him to understand,
to put himself in her shoes and see things from her
point of view.
 
"I know, baby." He responded tenderly, kissing her
forehead as softly as he knew how. "But you were there
the other day when I had that awful dream, and you're
here now, and that's all that matters to me." She
simply nodded and placed a tender kiss on his chest,
proceeding to snuggle closer and closer to him as she
marveled on what a perfect fit they were. 
 
The more he opened up, the more she felt the
overwhelming urge to protect him, to make him feel
safe, loved, needed. The more the intricate workings
of Harmon Rabb's mind were revealed to her, the more
it felt like she'd been handed a gift from God, the
gift of truly knowing her Sailor, and it was her job
now to take care of that vulnerable, defenseless side
of him that was now exposed; to nurture that part of
his heart that'd been neglected for so long, that part
of his heart capable of believing in love again.
 
Her mind drifted back to the night they'd confessed
their love for each other. That night she'd seen, for
the first time, the fragile side of the man she loved,
his weakness, and his insecurities. He'd been willing
to give up flying because he thought that's what he
had to do to have a life with her. And only after she
reminded him of who he really was, only after she
reminded of him of the man she'd fallen in love with,
did he realize that she didn't want to change his
life, she wanted to be part of it. Somehow, she'd
thought the nightmare might have been a more in depth
revelation of his true fears, but for now, it was
simply his way of reliving the dreadful events of the
past week. 
 
"Mac, are you okay?" He asked, concerned at the
faraway look in her eyes. 
 
"Yeah, I was just thinking..." Remembering what they'd
originally started talking about, she changed the
subject, "...that Clay and Annika are going through
the same thing, aren't they?" Mac asked thoughtfully,
and after a moment Harm sighed and told Mac the whole
story Clay had shared about him and Annika when they
were held hostage in Afghanistan. 
 
"He's pushing her away because he thinks he's not good
enough for her, and that's exactly what I did to you.
Because I thought you deserved better than me. I still
do, but God sent you to me and I thank him every day
for you" Tears welled up in her eyes and she whispered
I love you's to him repeatedly as she softly kissed
him. Someday she'd ask him why he didn't think he was
good enough, but not tonight. He needed Sarah tonight,
not a cross from Lt. Colonel Mackenzie.
 
"Let's get some sleep, Sailor. Long day tomorrow" Harm
nodded and gratefully accepted her help as she led him
to the bedroom.  
 
"Mac?"
 
"Huh?"
 
"Are you sure that was medicine you gave me earlier?
It feels more like poison"
 
"Oh, I'm sorry honey. I think I gave you that expired
heartworms pill I've had laying around since Jingo
left. I told Chloe she needed to take it..." 
 
"Maaaac...." He groaned. She chuckled at Harm's
ignorance. He obviously didn't know what a heartworms
pill looked like for a 70-pound dog like Jingo.
Looking up indulgently she patted his cheek. 
 
"Don't worry. I'll take you to the Vet tomorrow"
 
"Ha ha ha" 
 
"Oh, cut it out and get some sleep, Squid. I love you"
she murmured sleepily once her laughter had subsided
and stretched up to plant a gentle good night kiss on
his lips. He sighed as she nestled closer in his arms,
mindful of his injuries. 
 
A few minutes later, she heard his even breathing,
telling her he'd drifted off to sleep. For the next
few hours, she just watched him, listened to the
sounds he made, paid attention to the way he slightly
shifted every so often, the way he held her, never
relinquishing in his protective embrace. 
 
"Love you...Mac" he murmured in his sleep and she
smiled as he pulled at her pajama top with his
uninjured arm, wanting to bring her closer, nearer.
She watched in amazement the frustration on his face
as he fought in his unconscious state to position her
where he wanted her, using his only good arm. A few
more tugs, and she ended up practically sprawled on
top of him, and she wanted to laugh. Her Sailor was
the cutest thing when he slept. 
 
She'd never let any man before hold her that way. In
fact, the time she'd spent with Mic, it was always him
who woke up on her side of the bed, never her on his.
But Harm was different. The warmth of his embrace was
too hard to resist, and even unconsciously, she found
herself reaching for him, needing to feel him near.
What was it about him that held such power over her?
What was it about him that made her say and do things
she'd never thought she would? What was so mystifying
about him that she could watch him for hours and never
tire? Harmon Rabb, Jr. was a puzzle, and she was
willing to spend the rest of her life putting it
together, piece by piece, step by step. 
 
TWO WEEKS LATER
HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION
2114 EST
 
After a nice enjoyable dinner, Harm and Mac sat
together, snuggled up in his couch. It had been a hard
two weeks for them both. Harm was still not a hundred
percent recovered, but he walked without a cane, and
his arm was out of the sling. He remembered clearly
the first time they'd been like this at his apartment.
That night before he had left for the Patrick Henry on
"Webb's" mission. The smell of her shampoo was still
the same; the feel of her soft hands caressing his
chest was just as he remembered. They'd done this many
times since he'd returned from Afghanistan, but
tonight felt different. It was finally time.
 
"I was so scared, Mac. So scared I wouldn't get out of
there alive. Scared I'd never see you again" he
whispered as his arms tightened almost painfully
around her. 
 
"Is that what the nightmare was about? Were you just
scared you'd never see me again? Or was it something
more?" she prodded carefully.
 
Harm frowned slightly in confusion. "Well, I haven't
had the nightmare in almost two weeks now, and that's
because I've had you to help me deal with it all.
Thank you for being patient with me. You know I don't
do well talking about painful things, and you waited
for me to tell you about Afghanistan. I don't know
what I'd do without you." Mac smiled and nodded, too
touched by his sincere words to speak. 
 
Thinking over his words, she had to agree. The
nightmare hadn't returned, and that was a good sign.
She'd spent the past two weeks making sure he
understood that she loved him unconditionally, that
she'd never leave him, that he'd always be the most
important person in her life. Not in her wildest
dreams would she have pictured Harmon Rabb as open as
she'd known him to be the past few weeks, and she
loved it. They'd been there for each other, and she
was certain nothing would ever come between them
again. Over her dead body. 
 
"I don't know what I'd do without you either, Harm. I
love you"
 
"I love you," he whispered close to her ear and she
smiled as the love in his words and the warmth of his
body enveloped her once more. Softly, his mouth worked
on her heated skin, his hands slowly removing the
straps of her top from her shapely shoulders, not
wanting to miss even an inch of her silky skin. Soft
sensual noises were escaping her as his strong but
gentle hands traveled further down, encircling her
waist in a possessive embrace. 
 
Instinctively, she pressed her body closer to his, her
backside now fully cocooned between his legs. Feeling
his arousal growing hard against her fueled her need
for him as she turned half way in his arms and claimed
his lips in a fervent duel of tongues. Her hands were
instinctively running up and down his well-toned
thighs, getting closer and closer to the place his
desire for her was evident the most. 
 
"Sarah..." he moaned breathlessly as her lightest
touch unleashed currents of passion he knew he
couldn't control. Taking his face between her hands,
she touched her lips to his, nibbling softly at them
as she pulled away and stood. His mind told him it was
better to move to the bedroom, but his physical need
for her wouldn't allow rational thought as he reached
out and pulled her to him once more. The soft plains
of her stomach drew him to her until his face was
buried in there; his hands sneaking up to knead her
breasts through the silky fabric. 
 
"Harm... please..." she murmured as she pulled him up
to stand with her. 
 
"I know" he simply said and in one swift motion his
mouth was on hers once again, their lips joined in a
zealous display of raw emotion... love. Their bodies
still fused together as one, they made their way to
the bedroom, bumping into a few things on their way. 
 
Once they neared the bed, Mac disentangled herself
from his embrace and pushed him down gently on the
bed. His jaw dropped open and his eyes about popped
out of his head as he watched in amazement her hands
move seductively throughout her incredible body. Her
black top was the first to go, and next came her
pants. The black lace bra she wore held her perfect
breasts in just barely, and she smiled playfully as
she saw him swallow the lump on his throat. 
 
"Mac..." he attempted speech, feeling it was the only
way to let her know he'd die of desire if she kept her
visual assault any longer.
 
"What's the matter, Sailor? Can't handle a little
fun?" a sassy grin on her face as she unclasped the
black shiny bra from the front and her breasts were
freed to his devouring gaze. Harm was thunderstruck,
his eyes now fixed on the perfectly round and full
globes that were currently enjoying her hands on them.
Oh, how he envied her hands. 
 
Taking a step towards him, one hand left her breasts
and ran across her stomach, down to her lower abdomen,
until it finally disappeared underneath the black
satiny material that shielded her greatest virtue from
his hungry eyes. A moan escaped her as she closed her
eyes, one hand still massaging a single breast, while
she pleasured herself with the other. Harm was
squirming uncomfortably on the bed, attempting
unsuccessfully to quench the sudden thirst for the
amazing woman before him. 
 
"Take it off" she demanded of him and he simply froze
for a moment, not understanding the meaning of her
request. Eagerly, he reached for her, but she took a
step back and eyed him up and down, letting him know
what she wanted from him. It was getting harder by the
second to resist him, but she wanted it to be special,
different, for him, for them. 
 
Realizing what she sought after, his shaky hands went
to his shirt, and slowly unbuttoned it, tossing it her
way once he was done. His hands traveled down to the
buckle on the belt and quickly undid it. His eyes
never leaving her as she continued to dazzle him with
her erotic sexual movements, he watched as the last
piece of clothing fell at her feet in harmony with the
sound of the zipper his own hands were pulling down.
Piercing her with a beseeching glance, he slid down
from his seating position on the bed, lifting his hips
slightly off the bed, and smiled when he saw her face
light up with anticipation.
 
The sight he made, his erection screaming at her to
touch him, to feel him, to taste him, proved to be her
undoing and smiling at his mischievousness, she moved
closer to the bed, hooking her delicate fingers on the
waistband, and pulled down both his pants and boxers
in one swift motion. The hard erect member she'd only
tasted once before sprung free, her eyes darting
towards it, missing the satisfied smile on her
Sailor's face. The women he'd been with before were
always impressed by his size, fueling that flyboy ego
of his to soar above acceptable levels, but it wasn't
Mac's admiration that filled him with pride now. It
was knowing that she saw in him the same he saw in
her. Knowing they were each other's equal, knowing he
had the power to please her as much as she did him.
 
As soon as his clothes hit the floor, she took him in
her mouth, fully, not wasting any more time, as her
need for him escalated to new levels she'd never
thought possible. Her hands sneaked up to caress his
chest and he took them in his, entwining their fingers
together, as she sucked harder and faster on his
shaft. 
 
"Mac... honey... can't..." Understanding his plea
immediately, and given the fact that pleasuring him
was quickly working her into her own oblivion, she
complied and allowed him to pull her up, her body
fully resting on top of him. Their mouths met once
again, and tasting himself in the warmth of her mouth
he felt her open herself up and take him inside her
welcoming depths. Not prepared for her assault, he
bucked his hips against her unconsciously and heard
her gasp. Concerned, he quickly cradled her face in
his hands and his eyes asked the question. 
 
Quickly, she understood why he'd stopped, and opened
her eyes to search his. "just... surprise...deep...
please... more" she uttered and he smiled, more in
relief that he hadn't hurt her. Reaching a steady
rhythm, she took him in and out, riding him fervently
as his hands touched every inch of her skin, his love
every part of her soul. 
 
He was getting closer and closer to heaven as her sex
squeezed him repetitively, and knowing it wouldn't
last much longer his hands left their place in her
breasts to explore further down her. He touched all
there was to touch, gasping when he felt the enticing
wetness of her folds and rubbed the swollen bundle of
nerves. 
 
"Oh, God...Harm..." she cried as his fingers reached
their destination, and dropped her head against him as
her fierce orgasm overwhelmed her. Her muscles
clenched tightly around him, and thrusting a few more
times into her, his own release claimed him, the
explosion of their passion now finally completed. 
 
Some time later, still buried deep within her, his
hand reached up to smoothly run over her silky hair,
down to the side of her face that wasn't buried in his
chest. Reaching up with her arm, she ran one hand
across his face, touching, kneading his lips with her
fingers, feeling every contour, the lines on his
forehead, the curve of his cheeks, the few scars that
hardened his features, the few drops of sweat from the
heat of their love making, the spiky hairs of his
growing beard. Leisurely she turned her face towards
him, drinking in the vision her man made, and smiled
lovingly at him, realizing as their eyes met that
their love for each other was never clearer to her
than at that moment. 
 
"I love you" she whispered, almost unconsciously, as
her eyes were still glued to his. 
 
"And I adore you, Sarah" he murmured in response and
guided her head back down to his chest, his arms going
around her once more to engulf her in him tenderly.
Sleep overtook them some time later, and waking up
sporadically during the night, they made love to each
other, thankful for the blessing of loving and being
loved. 
 
********
Across town, Clayton Webb lay awake on his bed. The
woman of his dreams curled up in a ball of warmth in
his couch, after yet another nightmare. As always, his
eyes had begged for her nearness, but his words had
driven her away. But she didn't go far. She was never
far from him. How did Harm and Mac manage it? How did
people open up and love unconditionally? Would he ever
know what if felt like? Would he ever have the guts to
try? 
 
Sighing, he slid down on the bed, and once again
attempted to sleep, fighting the urge he felt to walk
out the door and curl up right next to her. Maybe if
he took some time to work with his problems then he'd
be ready to open up to her. Maybe if he wanted her
enough he'd muster up his strength and tell her he
loved her. Did he not love her enough? Was she not
worth risking it all? Hell yes! But the fear he felt
was of not being loved in return, fear of looking into
her eyes and finding nothing more than friendship,
fear of rejection, fear of... of giving it all and
being left with nothing. Lately he seemed to lose
things he didn't know he had. His twin brother was an
example of it. And he knew if he didn't get his act
together, he would lose the woman he loved the same
way. He did love her enough. What he needed now was
some faith in that love.
 
NEXT DAY
MAC'S APARTMENT
0745 EST
 
The rays of the morning sun entered through the window
and Harm awoke to find the love of his life propped up
in an elbow, staring intently at him. 
 
"Harm, promise me it will always be like this. Promise
me, please," she begged him and he immediately drew
her to him, praying his verbal assurance was enough to
dissipate any doubts she might harbor. Like her, he
knew many things still needed to be said, many things
still needed to be talked about and put to rest. But
he also knew that neither of them would have to do it
alone. Not anymore. She had promised him she'd make
him believe again. How could he not promise her
forever?
 
"It will, Angel, I promise you. It's all about us now.
No one else but us" he offered gently, kissing her
softly and allowing their whispered words of love to
drive away the insecurities that had once defined
their relationship.  
 
"Mac, thank you"
 
"For what?"
 
"For loving me, for taking care of me..." he was
silent for a few seconds. "Thank you for making me
believe" No more words were needed. 
 
The past few weeks had been highly stressful, but also
a learning experience. Many surprises had knocked on
their door, but they'd survived, because above it all,
they finally had that "us" they'd both dreamed of and
prayed for so long; that same "us" they'd move heaven
and earth to uphold and protect. Certainly, the future
held many surprises for them still; but they were even
more certain that all the good ones were yet to come. 
 
 
THE END! Chapter 3 will be out soon...