Title:
A Chase in the Snow
Author:
Kimberly Knipp and Pat Steiner
Email:
MCK8686@aol.com and SSbpMN@aol.com
Rating:
PG-13
Classification:
Romance
Spoilers:
Sometime after the Return but in our world Harm and Mac are still best buds.
Summary:
Disclaimer:
JAG, its characters and premise are the exclusive property of
Bellasarius Productions,
*************************************************************************
2230 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
“Commander
Rabb, the Admiral would like to see you and Colonel MacKenzie in his office.”
“We’ll
be right there, Tiner,” Harm spoke into the intercom.
Sighing,
he dropped his pen on the desk and rose, straightening the front of his jacket.
He walked to Mac’s office and knocked gently on her door.
“Hey,
ninja-girl,” he called.
Mac
lifted her head and smiled. “Flyboy,” she greeted.
“Admiral
wants to see us.”
Her
smile faltered and she tossed her pen down. “Are we in trouble?” she asked as
she rose to her feet.
Harm
waited for her to join him, averting his eyes when he caught himself watching
the gentle sway of her hips. “Not that I know of,” he returned, letting her
leave the office ahead of him.
A
minute later they were seated in the Admiral’s office about to find out.
“I
assume you two heard about the helicopter crash in
“Yes,
sir,” Harm spoke first. “The transport was carrying some men inland from the
Constellation to catch a hop to the states. I understand it went down just
prior to landing?”
“That’s
right, Rabb. Killed the pilot and
all four passengers. I want you two to handle the investigation,” A.J.
stated, finally coming over to sit behind his desk.
“But,
sir, we have the Pender case in two days…” Mac started.
“I’d
rather you handle this, Colonel. The CAG on the ship, Captain Aaron Savage,
used to be under my command and I think very highly of him. I spoke with him a
little while ago and he feels this crash wasn’t an accident. The pilot, Lt.
Jason Teague, has an excellent record and has never had an incident while
flying. He’s been under Aaron’s command for almost three years and he spoke
very highly of him. I want you to find out what happened. Bud has all the
paperwork on the crash and has made your flight arrangements. You leave in the
morning. Any questions?” The Admiral asked.
“No,
sir,” Harm replied, glancing at Mac as he rose to his feet.
Mac
shook her head and stood as well, coming to attention.
“Dismissed,”
A.J. murmured.
On
their way back across the bullpen, they stopped at Bud’s desk.
“Sir, ma’am. Did you see the Admiral?” he asked, smiling.
“We
did, Bud. He said you have our plane tickets,” Mac returned.
“Here
they are, ma’am,” Bud answered, coming around his desk with a file folder. “The
details of the crash are in there, too. You leave first thing in the morning –
0730.”
Mac
grinned up at Harm. “Guess we won’t be working late tonight.”
He
flashed a return smile. “Guess not.”
Twenty
minutes later they left JAG together. At Mac’s car, Harm stopped and turned
back to her.
“How about a pizza? We can go over the file,” he suggested.
Mac
studied him for just an instant. “Sounds good. You’re
place or mine?” she teased.
“Yours. I don’t want you driving home alone later,” he stated
calmly.
Mac
rolled her eyes. “I think I can manage,” she returned dryly.
A
while later they walked into Harm’s apartment. Harm dropped his cover on the
coat tree next to hers and watched as she unbuttoned her overcoat. He slipped
up behind her and lifted it from her grasp.
“Here,”
he murmured.
“Thank
you,” Mac answered, feeling a little giddy at his nearness.
Harm
hung both of their coats up and Mac went to the phone and hit the speed dial.
She hung up a minute later as he was pouring them both some juice from her
refrigerator. He carried them in to the living room and sat down on the couch,
sliding hers over in front of her as she sank down on the cushions. Mac sighed
as she slipped her pumps off, rubbing her aching toes.
“Put
you feet up here,” he ordered, patting his leg as he moved a little closer to
her.
“I’m
okay – really. It just feels good to get…”
She
broke off when he bent over and grasped her ankles, lifting her feet into his
lap.
“Harm,
you don’t have to do rub my feet. I’ll be fine,” she protested, pushing against
the throw pillows behind her to stay upright.
“You
just hush and tell me what’s in that crash file,” he interjected calmly,
overriding her protests.
Mac
glared at him for as long as it took him to start rubbing her feet and then she
couldn’t help the long sigh that escaped her.
“That
feels so good,” she whispered.
Harm
only smiled.
After
a minute she flipped open the file and sifted through the papers. Then she
closed the folder again. “I don’t want to do this, Harm,” she murmured.
He
looked at up her in surprise. “Do what? Have dinner with me?”
She
smiled. “No, go over this file right now. We don’t have to do it right now
anyway. Can’t we just sit here in the silence for a little while?” she asked,
almost the way a small child would wheedle a favor.
Harm
looked at her for an instant like she’d sprouted another head. “Fine with me. I didn’t want to work anyway,” he scoffed
with a light shrug if his wide shoulders. “I’d rather just sit here and rub your
feet.”
Mac
tossed the file back onto her coffee table and settled back against the mound
of throw pillows behind her. Harm shifted, pulling her feet more fully into his
lap. Mac sighed deeply, feeling the tension of the day slide away from her.
Several minutes later, she moved and did something that surprised Harm more
than anything else could have. Sitting up suddenly, she swung her legs around
to the floor and changed positions, laying her head on the hard muscles of his
thigh. Stunned, Harm remained where he was for the space of several heartbeats,
his hands suspended in the air. Then slowly he lowered them and began to
tenderly smooth one broad palm over her silky hair. She didn’t say a word but
shifted slightly to get more comfortable. The new position gave Harm an open
chance to study her without her seeing him and he looked his fill. From the
gentle flare of her hips, the nip of her waist, the length of leg she had
curled up on the couch – a move which hiked her skirt up to mid-thigh. They
were finally getting back on track together after long months of bickering,
disagreeing about anything and everything and playing tug of war with Commander
Brumby – a man Mac had become good friends with and an egomaniac Harm couldn’t
stand the sight of.
“Harm?”
she whispered, breaking into his thoughts.
“Yes?”
“I’m
glad I came over tonight.”
“I
am, too.”
With
further words seeming unnecessary, Harm picked up the remote and turned on a
movie. There would be time on the flight in the morning to look over the file and
discuss the case. For the time being to just be together and enjoy the moment.
The
movie ended and Harm realized she had fallen asleep. Moving
carefully so as not to disturb her, he took a throw pillow and tucked it gently
beneath her head, sliding his thigh from beneath her. Then he covered
her with a blanket, letting his finger graze her cheek gently for a moment.
"Good
night, Marine," he whispered.
A
scream of "NO!" woke him from a dead sleep several hours later and he
sat bolt upright, startled to see Mac standing in the middle of the room, the
blanket draped loosely around her shoulders.
"Mac?" He said questioningly, not sure if she was awake or perhaps
sleepwalking, and pulled himself from the bed to her side, gently closing his
hand around her arm.
She
gave him a blank look and then recognition dawned in her eyes. "Harm,
how...?" She stopped and a slow smile came over her face. "No, I'm
not going to ask where I am. Obviously I'm still at your place. But why? Why didn't I go home last night?"
"You
were sleeping too good," he grinned. "And I
deemed you too tired to drive home safely so I covered you and left you
there." He put a light hand to the side of her face. "Now answer a
question for me. Why are you yelling no in the middle of the night?"
"I
don't...." she began and then a large shudder passed through her. "I was having a terrible dream. In
full Technicolor and cinema surround-sound or something. There was cold
and snow, so much snow and....." she stopped and shook her head with a
short laugh. "Never mind. Go back to bed, Sailor.
I'm going home."
"There
is no way I'm allowing you to drive across D.C. in the middle of the
night," he declared firmly. "Call it selfish if you must but I need
my sleep and if I were to let you leave I'd be up the rest of the night
worrying. The only place you're taking your Marine six is right back to that
sofa. And don't argue with me, you won't win."
He
propelled her back toward the sofa, lifting up the blanket so she could lie
down. She gave a long sigh and meekly did so. "Good
night again. I'm sorry I woke you."
"Not
the first time, probably won't be the last," he answered as he dropped the
blanket over her.
As
he turned to go she reached up and caught his hand. "I'm glad I came over
tonight," she repeated her sentiment of earlier.
"Me,
too," he grinned. "Very much.” He felt as if
another stitch had been taken the long process of reweaving the relationship
that his leaving to fly had so decimated.
1100 ZULU
APARTMENT
OF COMMANDER HARMON RABB JR.
NORTH OF UNION STATION
"You
maggots get your asses out of those racks!”.
Mac
sat straight up on the sofa to face a grinning Harm. "I just thought you'd
like to relive a moment from basic," he laughed and ducked the pillow she
heaved at him.
"Okay,
message received, Commander," she laughed as well. "I'll see you at
Andrews then. Hey, sorry about disturbing your sleep last
night."
"I
told you then to forget it," he reminded her. "Now get out of here
and let me shower, unless you want to wash my back."
"Another
time maybe," she retorted, gathering up her things and slipping out the
door. "Another time," she repeated softly to herself as the door
latched behind her.
1325 ZULU
ANDREWS AFB
"I
know I'm late," Harm panted as he ran up to where she was pacing back and
forth.
"I
thought I was going to have to leave with you behind," she smiled,
relieved at seeing him and able to remove visions of Beltway crashes from her
mind.
At
the urging of the crew, they boarded quickly and the aircraft took off,
climbing smoothly out of DC airspace.
"I'll
have a tropical hurricane with a kiwi twist," Harm said to no one in
particular when the flight leveled off.
"I
could get you a cup of water from the cooler," Mac offered. "And
maybe turn on the little air blower above your seat.”
He
laughed and gave her hand a quick squeeze, smiling at the knowledge that they
were coming back.
She
pulled out the case file and for the next two hours they read and reviewed the
details of the crash, occasionally arguing from opposite points of view but
without the rancor that had been so common in other exchanges of past months.
Finally
she put the paper she was holding down and slapped down the lid of the laptop,
rubbing her temples with her fingers. "Harm, I can't do this any more
right now.”
"Are
you okay?" His concern was immediate and strong.
"Yes, just a headache. I didn't sleep well," she
answered.
"No
really? I hadn't realized," he teased, remembering back to his sudden wake
up "Anyway we've done about all we can right now. Once we get to the
carrier we'll know more." He helped her to pick up and stow their papers
and the computer.
"Now
I'm going to sign off for a while," she told him. "You can wake me if
a flock of geese gets sucked into the engine and we're going to bail out;
otherwise leave me sleep.”
"Hey,
don't even kid about things like that," Harm shook his head in distress.
"Aviator superstition I guess, but don't."
"Okay.
Sorry," she laughed and squirmed about within the confines of the small
seat looking to get comfortable.
He
watched her for a minute and then lifted his arm over her in silent offering of
his shoulder as a place to rest her head.
"Harm,
I don't..." she shook her head.
"There
is no one paying us any bit of attention here," he told her. "We're
about the only ones in this whole section. Be comfortable, you need to rest. It
may be that we won't get much over the next few days.”
"Thanks,"
she decided and lay her head against him, asleep
almost at once.
For
a long time he watched her, seeing the outlines of her pretty features and
remembering two dozen other investigative trips, including a few where he
thought the outcome would not be so favorable. Finally convinced she was
actually asleep, and with no one else in the immediate area, he gave in to his
overwhelming urge to place a soft kiss on her forehead, then
leaned his head against the window for his own rest. He had closed his eyes
before he could see the soft smile that appeared at the corners of her mouth.
2330 ZULU
USS CONSTELLATION
The
transport landed smoothly on the deck of the USS Constellation and Harm exited
first, turning to extend a hand to Mac. She stepped down on deck, hanging onto
her cover and pushing hair out of her face as she followed her partner across
the open deck.
“Commander
Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie, welcome
aboard!”
Harm
and Mac returned the salute of the young Ensign.
“Ensign
Dixon, sir, ma’am! I’ll be your liaison while you’re here. Captain Savage
wanted me to bring you to see him upon your arrival.”
Harm
and Mac simply nodded and followed the younger man. A few minutes later, they
were on the bridge.
“Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie, sir!” Ensign Dixon announced crisply.
A
young man - perhaps Harm’s age, perhaps a few years older, turned and smiled. “Thank
you,
“Captain,
Admiral Chegwidden speaks very highly of you,” Harm said as he returned the
handshake.
“He
does of you, as well,” Captain Savage smiled.
“We’re
sorry about Lt. Teague,” Mac interjected gently, shaking the man’s hand, too.
“We
all are, Colonel, thank you. Did you go over the file I compiled on the crash?”
Aaron inquired.
“Yes,
sir, we have. And we agree that it doesn’t make any sense,” Mac stated
carefully.
“Lt.
Teague was a damn good pilot. There was nothing wrong with the helicopter and
nothing wrong with him or the men he was transporting. But yet no one witnessed
any unusual behavior on or above ground either,” Aaron reiterated. “It’s like
he just decided to crash the chopper. Why don’t we go down to the dining room?
Have you two had anything for dinner?”
“No,
sir,” Mac answered.
“We’ll
talk more there then.”
Several
minutes later they were seated in the main dining room. Since crews ran around
the clock on a carrier, there was a handful of other crewman also having
dinner. The men greeted the Captain as he came in. Mac and Harm watched as he
put them all at ease, greeting each one in return by name. Harm glanced
covertly at Mac and she turned at the last second and caught his gaze.
“Reminds
you of the Admiral, doesn’t he?” she whispered.
Harm
grinned and nodded. “Just several years younger.”
Once
they were seated with their trays in front of them, Captain Savage looked to
them again. “A.J. told me if anyone could figure out what happened, it would be
the two of you,” he stated openly, almost a pleading quality about him. “Lt.
Teague didn’t just service under me, he was a good friend,” he added quietly.
“We’ll
do the very best we can, Captain. The Colonel and I need to see the crash site.
Can you arrange for us to go out there in the morning?”
“As
soon as you’re ready,” Aaron nodded crisply.
1720 ZULU
ELMENDORF AFB
“Just
follow this road and it will take you to the turn off. The crash site is about
a mile down.”
“Thank
you, Ensign Dixon. We’ll radio in when we’re ready for a pickup,” Harm told him
as they climbed into the Hum-V that would take them to the place where Lt.
Teague had crashed. The followed the main road the Ensign had outlined for
them. The crash site itself was high in the back mountains of Elmendorf, almost
to the
“It’s
so beautiful here,” Mac whispered, almost in awe.
“It
is. I was in the Gulf once on a carrier but I never got to really see the
state. Maybe if we have time before we leave I can
talk the Captain into letting up take a Tomcat up. We’ll have our own private
tour,” he suggested.
“In a Tomcat? Some tour that will be for me,” she scoffed lightly. “Make
it a helicopter and you have a deal,” she shot back.
“Deal.”
Several
minutes later they came around a grove of trees and in the clearing were the
remains of the helicopter transport Lt. Teague had been flying. Harm drew the
Hummer to a stop and they slowly climbed out. The big helicopter looked like a
child’s toy, stepped on by some unwitting adult and crushed. They walked
toward, taking note of the flattened trees and the packed snow, matted down by
all the men who’d trampled in and out removing bodies and investigating the
scene.
“This
is a desolate area, Harm. What on earth could have possibly caused him to
crash?” Mac mused, peering inside the bent cab.
“It
could have been anything. The mechanic said the chopper was in top condition
and it’s not a particularly old model. I’ve been thinking about this over and
over and I keep coming back to the same theory. I think someone on the ground
caused him to crash.”
“What
do you mean?” She questioned. “Like shooting him down?”
Harm
nodded. “Exactly like that.”
“But
surely he would have sent a distress call or something,” she protested,
planting her hands on her hips.
“Not
necessarily. Not if he didn’t see it coming. They could have hit him with one
rocket and they never would have had a chance,” Harm pointed out.
“Then
we have our work more than cut out for us. And the big question is why anyone
would want to shoot down a transport?” Mac sighed. “Unless the attack was aimed
directly at…”
They
both heard the deep rumbling at the same time and sought each other’s gazes.
"Thunder?" Mac asked, a startled frown
across her pretty features.
"Yeah,
we're having a tropical storm." Harm returned sarcastically. "No,
there's only one thing that can make a noise like that in this terrain."
He
was already searching the surrounding area, shielding his eyes against the sun.
"There," he pointed, grabbing her arm.
"My
god," she gasped, staring transfixed at the wall of white death which was
thundering down the mountain just off to their west. "Harm, what do we
do?"
"Run,"
he answered. "Far and fast." Even as he was
saying that he was overcome with doubt that they could actually outrun
something like that but he knew they had to try. "This way into the
trees," he told her, locking her hand in his. “They might break up some of
the force of the slide."
Without
waiting for her to answer he pulled her in that direction, breaking into a run.
"Stay with me, Marine," he panted, his urging unnecessary as she kept
pace with him stride for stride.
The
roar grew louder behind them and he dared a backwards glance. The ominous wall
was right with them, gaining all the time. With the inevitable mere seconds
away he grabbed firm hold of her from behind, pushing her to the snowy ground
and throwing himself down on top of her. He knew he could not protect her from
the suffocating affects of the snow but hoped at the very least to shield her
from some of the impact.
She
turned her head up to his and their eyes met. With no time for anything else, they
attempted to convey in mere seconds what they had not been able to say to each
other at any previous point in their partnership.
"It's
okay," he said softly, just the slightest hint of a smile on his lips and
then the crashing whiteness was over them.
"Haaaaarm!" A scream from her
and she felt herself being wrenched away from him. There was a tumbling
sensation, then falling and then nothing.
His
ears filled with the roar of the snow slide, and then her scream assaulted his
hearing and he grabbed for her, only to feel her being torn from him. He
managed to scream the first sound of her name as the snow swallowed him. Pain
shot through him and then nothing.
The
first thing Harm became aware of was the pain. Slowly, he shifted,
straightening his arms and legs to make sure he hadn’t broken anything. When
everything moved like it was supposed to he slowly rolled onto his side to sit
up. He was wedged sideways against a tree, a good-sized boulder at his other
hip. Just the simple act of sitting up made his head swimming and his breath in
gasps. He pressed one hand to the stabbing pain in his side and breathed
slowly.
Suddenly
he panicked and swung his head from side to side. “Mac!” he shouted. “Mac,
where are you?”
“Harm?”
Her
voice was weak and somewhere behind him. “Are you all right?” he called to her,
trying to push the boulder out of the way.
“I…
I think so.”
Mac
gingerly raised herself up from the cold, packed snow, breathing slowly as
dizziness overtook her. She seemed to be all right and she struggled to her
feet, her legs sinking in the deep snow. Carefully, she turned and saw Harm.
“Can
you move?” she asked breathlessly as she reached him.
“Yeah. Can you help me move this?” he asked, indicating the
boulder.
“Yeah,”
she muttered, planting her weight as best as she could.
Together
they moved the rock and Mac grasped Harm’s, hand, helping him to his feet. He
swayed for a second, holding onto her. Mac raised concerned eyes to his as she
wound her arms around his waist.
“Are
you hurt?” she demanded.
“I
think I cracked a rib,” Harm huffed.
“We
have to get out of here,” she murmured.
Before
he could answer they heard the sound again. The deep, thunderous roll of sound
that was like nothing they’d every heard before.
“Run!”
Harm ordered, giving her a push forward. “Into the trees!”
They
veered sideways into the tree break as the roar of another avalanche closed in
on them.
“Look
up there!” Harm yelled, close behind Mac.
She
did and thought she saw the outline of… Harm hit her from behind in a tackle
and they went down in a tangle of arms and legs, crashing through a section of
wood as the snow swept over them a second time, burying them, closing off the
world, their daylight, their air. And then all was silent.
They
both opened their eyes at the same time. Harm was laying on her, pushing her
slight weight in to hard ground beneath them.
“You
okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,”
she answered.
Slowly,
Harm rolled away from her. Wherever they were, it was pitch black. He couldn’t
even see his hand in front of his face. He felt Mac sit up beside him and he
reached for her.
“Where
are we?” Mac whispered, her gloved hands curling into the lapels of his jacket.
“In
some kind of cabin,” he told her, his arm going around her back and bringing
her close.
“Are
we trapped?”
“I
don’t know,” he admitted. “Stay here,” he ordered gently, moving away from her.
With
his hands on the floor in front of him, Harm started forward on his hands and
knees, inching his way slowly toward what he hoped would be a wall. He didn’t
move far before he came to it. Carefully, he felt along the wall.
“Find
anything?” Mac asked from behind him.
“The wall. I’m hoping for a door.”
He
found it a second later and felt the cold of the snow where it had trapped them
inside this dark prison.
“Harm?” Mac called tentatively.
He
didn’t answer right off.
“Harm!”
she called again, more insistently.
“We’re
snowed in tight.”
His
stark words dropped her stomach right into her feet.
“Oh,
no,” she whispered, shaking her head disbelief. “Oh, no.”
"I'm
afraid so," he sighed, groping his way back to her and then finding her
outstretched hand. She clung tightly to him and he smiled in the darkness,
feeling her tremble even through their gloves. "Hey, we're going to get
out of here," he assured her. "Just have to find the way, that's all."
"Well,
you're about to find out something about me," she returned, still shaking.
"What,
that you wear leopard patterned underwear?" he teased, still squeezing her
hand.
"You'll
never know," she retorted. "No, that I'm not very good in small dark
places. I got lost when I was ten and fell....".
She stopped speaking and his concern for her grew especially since he could not
see her.
"Mac? Okay?" he questioned anxiously and then felt her pull
her hand away and squirm against him, a minute later letting out a cry of
success. "What?" he questioned again.
Triumphantly
she produced her ring of house and car keys and a second later a tiny beam of
light from a penlight split the darkness. "Dark hallways in my
building," she explained.
"Marine,
I love you!" Harm screeched and then stopped, embarrassed at what he had
said.
"Thank
you," she grinned though his words had impacted on her, and then added
with a quick laugh. "I also have mace so don't get any ideas."
"Well,
if we meet up with any crazed woodchucks we've got it covered then," he
laughed as well.
She
shined her light around the room, the tiny beam revealing a small cot, a
fireplace with wood neatly stacked to one side and a lantern resting on its
mantle, a shelf containing a camp stove and some food stuffs. "What is
that smell?" she demanded.
"I
didn't do it," he grinned, holding up his hands.
"No,
it's that," she shook her head, pointing the light to a pile of pelts in
another corner. "Trapper's line cabin," she said thoughtfully.
Harm
put his hand on hers to guide the pinpoint of light upward. "Too much to
hope that there would have been a skylight," he sighed.
She
looked down to where their hands were joined and his gaze followed hers. For a
long minute there was silence.
"I'm
going to make a fire anyway, at least we can get warm and dry," Mac
decided, finally breaking the spell. He rose with her and only took a small
step before holding his side in pain. "Still bad?" she asked
unnecessarily.
"Oh,
yeah," he admitted with a wry smile.
"Okay,
let me get that lantern lit and then I want you to lie down," she said,
her tone indicating she did not expect any argument.
With
that accomplished the cabin took on an almost cozy atmosphere in the soft light
and she returned to where he was standing. Her arms snaked around his waist,
holding him tightly and she led him toward the bed, propping the thin pillow
against the headboard before easing him down.
"Stay
put while I light a fire."
"Hey,
no, you'll suffocate us," he objected. "Suppose the snow is over the
flue?"
"If
it is we'll suffocate anyway," she answered patiently. "And if that
doesn't get us the cold will." She lay the fire
quickly then before he could protest further and held her breath while she
struck a match to the kindling.
"Not
bad, for a girl," he teased as it caught slowly and then came to life,
spreading warmth almost at once.
"Not
bad for a woman or Marine, either is acceptable," she retorted. "Now
let's get out of these wet things before we have terminal hypothermia."
"Hey,
in case you haven't noticed there's no men's locker room in here," he
pointed out, nevertheless looking around.
"No,
there's not, so we're going to have to both be adults about this," she
answered calmly, removing her scarf and coat, spreading them to dry in front of
the fire. She next moved to her sweater, sweatshirt and flannel shirt, down to
her Marine green tee shirt which she had hoped had survived undampened
but that was not the case. Her tumble over and over in the snow cloud had taken
its toll on everything. "Wipe that smirk off your face, mister," she
told him as she pulled that off too, leaving only a gray sport bra in its wake.
"You're next."
"I
was just thinking I'm going to get to check out whether the underwear is
leopard that's all," he replied.
"And
what kind are you wearing then?" she countered as she pulled off her boots
and snow pants and then added sweat pants to the growing pile.
"None,"
he grinned and she knew by his expression he was not serious. "No leopard,
I'm disappointed," he said a minute later when he saw the underwear which
matched the bra.
"Quit
commenting on me and get those wet things off," she ordered "Fashion
show is over." She came over to the bed and began to help him off with his
coat, sweatshirt and sweater, leaving him in his white undershirt, then pulled
him to his feet for the rest, noticing the grimace that move brought.
"Harm...."
"Don't,"
he said shortly, fumbling with the layers of clothes on the bottom, finally
dropping the pants to below his knees.
She
helped him to sit back on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots and pants
off. "I see we're not wearing leopard underwear either," she smiled.
"How's that undershirt?" Before he could answer she felt it and then
whisked it away from him. The side of his chest was already an ugly purple
above the rib cage, the bruise obviously spreading over the point where he had
impacted the boulder. "Harm," she gasped, putting her hand on his
shoulder but wanting to look away and not being able to. "That needs to be
looked at."
“You
won’t be able to do anything about it,” he refuted stubbornly.
“You
don’t know that!” she shot back.
“I
do know that.” And I know that I wouldn’t last five minutes with your hands
all over me, he thought mutinously.
Mac
scowled at him, arms crossed over her chest, legs spread. Finally, she relaxed
her stance a bit and uncrossed her arms. “I can at least pack some snow on it.
The cold will help keep the swelling down,” she pointed out.
“Fine,”
he consented.
While
he made himself as comfortable as possible on the cot, Mac went to the tiny
cook stove where an old rusty tin pot sat. With it in hand, she went back to
the side of the cabin they had crashed through to the snow that was piled in
with them. She filled the small tin, immediately feeling the cold from the snow
permeate it. Harm eyed her speculatively as she came back to him.
“You’ll
have to roll to your side and press against it. I don’t have any way to keep it
from spilling as it melts,” she murmured.
Without
a word, Harm rolled toward her, pushing himself back against the cold wooden
wall for support. He winced from the cold at his back as well as the cold of
the can Mac levered against him. Harm turned his head slightly where it rested
on his upper arm and met her sympathetic gaze. Mac stretched one hand out without
thinking and hesitantly smoothed it over his silky hair. She started to repeat
the gesture then realized what she was doing. Her fingers curled into a fist as
she slowly dropped her arm. Without a word, she turned and went to the pile of
fur pelts.
Carefully,
Mac lifted the top one. She didn’t know really anything about animal skins but
it looked to be in decent shape. There wasn’t any mildew on it. She put it
aside and slowly sifted through the rest of the pile. None of them were very
big – maybe half the length of her height - but if they layered them all on…
She looked back at Harm who was watching her with quiet eyes. Mac gathered up
the pile and took it back to the cot.
“Roll
forward just a bit,” she ordered softly.
He
did as she said and she tucked two of the pelts behind him from neck to foot to
keep his skin away from the cold wall. A sharp breath hissed from between his
clenched teeth as he settled back against the soft fur.
“I’m
afraid we have another problem,” he remarked, sounding almost casual as he drew
in shallow breaths to ease the pain in his side.
“What’s
that?”
“Take
a look at the snow.”
Mac
turned and stared at the white fall through what remained of the cabin’s
exterior wall. It took her a second to see what he was referring to. The small
fire she’d built in the cabin was slowly but surely melting the snow.
“Oh,
great,” she muttered, throwing her hands up.
Harm
had to grin at the picture she made – muttering curses in her underwear as she
stalked over to put the fire out. While she was at it, she extinguished the
lantern -–and their only source of light.
“Why
did you put the light out?” he asked.
“Because
I think we need to save whatever fuel is left in that in case we might really
need it,” she answered immediately, narrowing in on the sound of him as she
started toward the cot. “And I can’t do anything else right now anyway. You
need to regain some strength and I’m not looking for a way to get out of here
in my underwear,” she remarked sourly.
“I
don’t want you to sit here scared out of your mind,” he murmured, his husky
voice scraping over her overly sensitive nerves.
Mac
reached out with her hands and came in contact with warm skin. She jerked them
back instantly, glad it was dark so he couldn’t see her face flame and moved
until she felt the stack of pelts.
“I’m
scared anyway,” she admitted matter-of-factly. “Light or dark isn’t going to
change that fact.”
Wrapping
one of the furs around her shoulders, she lowered herself to the floor next the
cot, shivering against the cold wooden planks beneath her.
“What
are you doing?” Harm questioned.
“Making myself comfortable.”
“How
and where are you?” He demanded, reaching out a hand to her.
His
broad palm landed squarely on her hair. “Please, tell me you are not where I
think you are.” His voice was hard.
“I’ll
be fine right here,” she retorted instantly.
“The
hell you will. You are not staying on the floor, Marine, and that’s an order,”
he growled.
“You
can’t order me around anymore, Squid. I outrank you,” Mac rejoined, determined
not the let him rile her.
“Then
I’ll just get down there with you,” he stated determinedly.
“No!”
Mac
was on her feet instantly, pushing him back down. “I want you to rest!” she
cried. “Can’t you get that through your caveman skull?”
“And
how the hell am I gonna rest with you sitting on that
icy floor?” he questioned angrily, catching one of her hands in his.
Mac
stilled, feeling his touch travel up her arm. Inside she alternately cursed and
blessed the darkness.
“There
isn’t room for both of us on the cot,” pointed out, trying a different tact on
him.
“Don’t
go trying to reason with me,” he replied, his voice calmer now.
She
had to smile at that.
“I
will not rest knowing you’re on the floor freezing and we need to conserve
every ounce of body heat we can. It’s going to get damned cold as it gets
later,” he continued doggedly.
Mac
sighed, knowing the dog wouldn’t give up this particular bone. “And how do you
suggest we make this work?”
“We’ll
find a way,” was his only answer.
Mac
bent to the pile of furs, hearing him shift. There was a clunk on the floor
that sounded like the coffeepot. “You should keep that with you.”
“No
room for it,” he answered shortly. “Lay down here with me.”
For
an instant her heart stopped. Then she forced herself to take a slow breath.
This situation was going from bad to worse. Too much more of this and there
would be no turning back. Slowly, she lifted the furs one by one and piled them
over Harm. When she got through the whole stack, she heard the soft whisper of
them as he moved and knew it was time.
“Do
you need to get up or anything before I lay down?” she asked softly.
“No.”
Well,
that took care of any reprieve she might have. Taking a deep breath to steady
the shaking in her limbs that wasn’t all from the cold, Mac carefully lowered herself to the cot.
Harm
waited with gritted teeth, knowing this was going to be the longest day and
night of his entire life. He remained insistent because he didn’t want anything
more to happen to her – and that included hypothermia. They had no other
alternatives but sharing this very narrow cot with no clothing and a pile of
furs wasn’t what he would have chosen. And not because he
didn’t want her in his arms. He went to bed every night wishing for that
reality. But this was a bad time and place for moments of discovery. And he
wasn’t sure knowing how he really felt about her was a truth he was ready for
her to learn.
Finally,
she settled down on the cot – facing him no less – and he lowered the makeshift
fur blanket over them, tugging the ends down around the edge of her back and
hips. Mac tucked both arms between their bodies, her hands flat against his
broad chest. Slowly letting out the breath he’d been holding, Harm tightened
his hold on her. He kept the arm over her in place, splaying his hand over the silky
skin of her back. The other arm, the one under her head, he curled inward until
his fingers grazed her hair.
Mac
moved the tiniest bit, tilting her head up until her face was tucked in the
curve of his neck. She held herself very still, soaking in all the sensations
rioting through her. She was surrounded by him completely – from head to foot.
His arms held her so close a ray of light couldn’t have gotten between them and
she wished she knew whether it was the cold or something more. She moved then,
sliding one leg forward between his. Harm moved to, curling his upper leg
around the one she’d moved.
Neither
of them said a word. The darkness intensified their other senses. The sound of their breathing, the almost inaudible brush of skin
against skin. Suddenly it was too hot in the tiny, closed space of the
cabin but neither one moved so much as a hair. Harm’s
concentration was focused solely on the slender woman he held as if it was the
last thing he’d ever do. Keeping her so near was a dangerous game but their
situation was unstable, the outcome an unknown. Selfishly, he would take
advantage of this now that he had her and her guard was down. It might be the
only time he could ever hold her like this. He wouldn’t have believed that any
further if he’d know Mac was having the same thoughts. She was trying so hard
to memorize the way he felt that she was almost afraid to breathe. Every dream
she’d ever had about him holding her was coming true. It didn’t matter that he
was only holding her. It was everything and nothing all at once. Just being in
his arms was more than she could express. She didn’t need the rest at this
moment.
Harm
chose that moment to turn his head a bit, laying his cheek against her silky
hair. Mac moved a fraction so she could breathe more freely against the cocoon
of his neck and tried to relax. It was going to be a very long night.
The
wind moaned above them and Mac shivered, not so much from the cold as the
desperateness of their situation, miles from help and with Harm hurt besides.
She
stirred against him, waking him unintentionally. "Sorry," she
whispered. "Just having a hard time getting settled.
That former resolve about us both being adults is flushing itself rapidly down
the toilet."
"I
know," he answered. "But this is not the time or place and as long as
you wear...." He stopped, feeling for her right hand and realizing her
finger was empty. "Mac?"
"No,
I didn't move it to the other hand." She shook her head, glad he could not
see her face at that moment. "It must have gotten yanked off in the
avalanche."
"I'm
sorry," he said. "I hope it was insured and I'm sure Mic will be glad to replace..."
She
cut off his words with two fingers to his lips. "I was going to send it
back to him anyway," she admitted. "It's not what I want. I knew that
as soon as I got back here; hell, I knew it on the plane ride home. I was just
caught up in the romance of it all. Like some silly sixteen year old being
presented her prom date's class ring."
"I
see," Harm said softly, trying to ignore the hopeful heart pounding in his
chest. "Then when we get back I think we have some things to talk
about."
"I
think we do, too," she answered, her head moving against his chest.
He
rested his chin on the top of her head. "Sleep now. God knows when you'll
get another chance."
It
was a long eight hours later when the cold woke her and she staggered from the
bed to start another fire. Her stomach growled from hunger and she checked the
food supplies, blessing the fact that the trapper had stored some freeze dry
camping food. It took only a few minutes to start the bags warming in a pan of
melted snow. She also dressed and when the food was hot, went to wake her
sleeping companion.
"Good
morning, sailor," she gave his shoulder a gentle shake.
He
jumped, startled - and for a second she was afraid he was about to attack.
"Easy, mister," she cautioned. "Just room
service."
"You
did scare me," he grinned, rubbing his hand over his now stubbled face. "Room service, huh? Great.
I'll have a veggie omelet and hash browns."
"You
can start with some chicken and rice," she returned. "Starving
avalanche survivors can't be choosers."
"Mac,
we've got to get out of here today somehow." Harm turned serious, "By
now we're officially missing and there should be search planes up but they'll
never find us buried in this igloo."
"You
think you can move?" she asked, her brown eyes clouded with concern as she
lifted the pelts and blanket to look at his chest.
"No
choice," he answered. "No way would I let you go off alone."
"No
way would I leave you," she retorted with a wry grin. "I guess we're
stuck with each other."
"Anyway,
I'll be fine," Harm told her as he moved to the outer edge of the bed. She
could not help but notice his face twisted in pain as he did so.
"I'll
either keep up or you can shoot me and put us both out of my misery."
"I'm
holding you to that," she nodded with a quirky smile and sat next to him,
slipping her hand into his, feeling the need for a moment of connection.
His
fingers closed around hers and they sat in silence for a minute.
"My
dream was foretelling you know," she said finally. "Remember when I
was screaming about cold and snow? Well, here we are."
“What
did you dream about last night?" he asked. "Someplace dry and warm I
hope."
She
gave him a mysterious smile. "Let's just say it involved a warm fire, a
big soft rug in front of it and whip....never mind. That's for another
time."
"We
still have that talk to accomplish." he reminded her. "And it's not
going to be like on the ferry this time."
"I
hope not." She turned her head away from him at that memory of how at that
moment what she knew they both wanted was within their
grasp and the hurt she felt when he could not continue.
He
hooked his finger under her chin and brought her back to face him. "No
more denial," he promised. "Once we're out of this, I'm taking you
some place warm and dry and safe and we're going to lock ourselves in and hash
it all out."
"Don't
make promises you won't keep," she smiled, another memory replacing that
of the ferry.
"Haven't
yet," he quoted back to her.
She
gave his hand a firm squeeze, signifying they had accomplished enough for one
talk, and went to get the food.
Shortly,
fed and dressed, they began to consider leaving their entombment.
"Okay,"
she said reasonably. "We should simply be able to tunnel out. We know the
roof is above the snow line so how far can it be, maybe eight feet up and
out."
Without
waiting for his confirmation, she crouched at the opening and began to pull
snow back and away. He watched for a minute and then began to move away what
she was dislodging. Within an hour only the soles of her boots were visible to
him and he could hear her panting hard with the exertion.
“Okay,
break time," he ordered finally, his concern for her growing.
He
clamped his hands around her ankles and began to tug her back toward him. At
the same time there was a low swooshing sound and she was obliterated by a
falling mass of collapsed tunnel.
"No"
he screamed involuntarily.
Like
a mad man began to shove the offending white wetness away from her body. His
ribs screamed with pain which he ignored as he felt her getting loose and
finally with one mighty tug he pulled her free, sending them both careening
backwards onto the cabin floor.
"Mac,
you okay?" he panted, trying to push her off him and being hindered by his
ribs.
Only
silence greeted him and a cold wave of fear washed through him. He finally
rolled from beneath her and scrambled to her head, clearing remnants of snow
from her face. He patted her cheeks lightly and put his cheek by her mouth,
horrified to feel no breath. It was the
"Sarah
Catherine MacKenzie, don't you do this," he
begged, feeling hot tears behind his eyes. "Stay with me now. I need you
in my life."
Tipping
her head back, he cupped one hand around her chin and the pinched her nose with
the other. Fitting his mouth to hers, he blew in one quick breath. He turned to
look at her chest. Nothing. He blew another breath and
looked again. Still nothing. He started to blow once
more when she gasped, immediately coughing as air filled her lungs. Harm got
her by the neck and shoulder and lifted her up, moving behind her. He held her
close, his own heart beating frantically as he pressed his rough cheek to her
soft one, closing his eyes on a prayer of relief. Mac drew in several shallow
gasps. Harm pressed his hand to her forehead, sliding it back over her damp
hair as Mac lifted her arm and pressed her hand to his cheek.
Harm
turned his head into her caress, closing his eyes for just an instant.
"Oh, my God, I thought I'd lost you," he whispered roughly.
"You
saved me," Mac ground out.
Harm
turned her in his arms so that she was facing him, her body resting against him
and wrapped both arms around her shaking form, pulling her close to him. Mac
held him as if her very soul depended on it, plunging her hands into his hair
and pressing her face into his shoulder. She felt his warm breath on her neck
where he tucked his face into her soft skin.
“Thank
you,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear.
Harm
pulled back just enough so that he could look into her eyes. Time stopped
between them. Their own heartbeats filled the deafening silence. He studied her
intently, his gaze steady. The longer they were stuck here in this tiny little
cold world of make believe; the more dangerous the territory they were treading
into. Harm couldn’t bring himself to pull back just yet. All he ever thought
about was her. Being close to her, the smell of her perfume, the light in her
eyes, the warmth in her smile… everything about her. An now… finally having her so close where there were no
interruptions, no other people… He just couldn’t break that yet.
Mac
tried desperately to relax against Harm but was finding it to be a losing
battle. The tension in the air was too thick, being this close to him too
overwhelming. He was drawing a tiny pattern on her back, making it darn near
impossible to think straight. She wondered if Harm was even aware of his petting
and then decided it didn’t matter because she desperately wanted this contact
with him - had been wanting it for a long time.
Slowly, she slid her arm around his neck.
Harm
tensed slightly at the touch of her fingers. He dropped one arm and clasped her
hip, his fingers flexing against her snow pants. Harm lost track of all that
was around them. The cold, the impending doom of being buried – now he was
existing on more of a feeling. He could feel the hard beating of her heart and
realized she was nervous. He was nervous, too, and his own heart was beating
out an answering staccato. They were headed into unknown territory where they
were both strangers but they both knew they’d come too far to turn back. Even
without words, they’d already crossed one line. Crossed more than one line
really and were going to keep crossing them until there were no more left.
Bending
his head slightly, he nuzzled his cheek against hers, feeling the difference
between his own stubbled skin and the silky softness
of hers. Sighing almost inaudibly, Mac tilted her head into the caress, pressed
so close to him now that it didn’t feel like they were two people anymore.
Encouraged by her positive response, Harm turned his head slightly and touched
his lips to the same spot. Moving slowly, almost not at all, his pressed a
string of barely-there kisses to the curve of her jaw and down to the warm,
scented hollow of her throat. His fingers clenched on her hips for a second
before sliding around her fully, gathering her in even tighter than before if
possible. Mac sensed the small changes in him, from the tightening of his body
around hers to the slight increase of his breathing.
Her own breathing sounded none too steady at that particular
moment. Reveling in his tenderness, Mac dug her fingers into his shoulders,
feeling as if she would fly away if she didn’t hold tight to him. Harm’s mouth
brushed against her earlobe and she gasped, feeling the touch zing clear to her
toes. A tingling started deep in her tummy, causing the muscles to clench.
Heartened by the tiny sound that reached his ears, Harm slid his tongue across
the spot, enticing her further. Aching for more than just a darting touch, Mac
restlessly turned her head toward his.
Harm
watched her from beneath half-lowered lids, wanting desperately to kiss her but
knowing he couldn’t let this go any farther. They were already way in over
their heads and with so much else going on, this wasn’t the time to get this
particular ball rolling. There in the dark, he tried to find a way to show her
that without her thinking he was rejecting her. He wanted nothing more than to
whisk her away somewhere where they could hide away and never come back.
Somewhere he could lay her down and make the sweetest, slowest love to her.
Without him saying a word, Mac understood what he was trying to communicate to
her and nodded slowly. There was no time for this now. And they had some things
to solve before they let this - fire between them flare to life. There was too
much else at stake.
Harm
reluctantly drew back a little, putting some space between them. He cupped her
lovely face in his hands and stared down at her for endless moments, his
bottomless gaze unwavering. Finally, he tilted his head forward and pressed a
tender kiss to her forehead. Mac reached up to cover his hands with her own and
closed her eyes for a moment, feeling an almost overwhelming urge to cry. Then
he reluctantly pulled back and the tiny tendrils that were wrapped around them
separated… for now.
“What
do we do now?” she asked tremulously.
We
dig again," Harm stated simply. "We keep digging until we find some
way to get out of here."
"Okay,"
she nodded, trying to make herself back away from his body. "But, promise
me that we're going to come back to this spot, to this moment in time."
"With
every beat of my heart," he vowed. "My game playing days ended at an
airport when I looked back and saw the woman I care so much for kiss another
man and wear his ring. I'm just now getting my head on straight and making
things right."
"I
want that, too," she smiled. "And we can't have it trapped in here,
now let me see if I can...." She kissed his cheek and pulled away from
him, intending to make another attempt at digging.
"Oh,
like that's gonna happen." Harm clamped his
hands firmly around her waist as soon as he saw what she was planning, bringing
her back to him. "Maybe you don't fully grasp what just happened to you
there. You almost died. Hell, you were dead for a couple minutes there. And
I'll have to be before I let you try that again. There's got to be another
way."
"So,
what do you suggest?" She fell back to the floor in defeat, admitting to
herself that she was not all that anxious to risk a repeat of the terror of
having the snow tunnel falling in on her.
He
looked around the cabin, considering and discarding several possibilities.
"Up," he finally realized. "We know the roof is above the snow,
maybe we can force our way out through it. Wonder how sturdy those planks are?
If you sit on my shoulders you can maybe force one free or possibly pound your
way through with a piece of the firewood."
She
looked at him incredulously. "Sit on your shoulders? Harm, do you realize
how hard that's going to be on your ribs. I don't think so."
"Staying
in this tomb isn't any day at the beach," he retorted. "I'll be
fine." He handed her a two-foot log and helped her to her feet. "Get
up on the bed and let me slide between your legs," he directed.
Biting
back a comeback for that line she did as she asked. With some difficulty and
not without pain he got her situated and walked over to where the chimney pipe
went through the roof. "See if you can pound on it," he directed,
staggering slightly under her weight.
"Hey,
Trigger, you wanna hold still?" She begged,
beginning to ram the log into the roof.
To
their collective amazement the material began to give and she shortly had a
respectable hole gaping in the roof. One more huge
prod and it enlarged to the point where it seemed she could fit through. At the
same time she lost her balance atop him and began swaying dangerously.
"Mac,
I'm going to drop you," he warned, struggling valiantly to keep her
upright.
Finally,
having no alternative before he was hurled to the floor and possibly seriously
hurt, he bent forward and let her tumble to his arms.
"Sailor,
that's the second time you saved me," she smiled and her brown eyes locked
with his blue ones once again.
For
another moment time stopped between them.
"Another
time, another place," he reminded her, both gently and reluctantly.
"I
know," she answered. "Story of our lives; like a
ferry boat in
"Not
one of my finer moments," he agreed readily as he set her down. "And in the past. And none of that matters unless we
can get out of here. I want you to make a boost with your hands and see if you
can shove me through the opening and then I'll pull you up. Other way around
you won't be able to lift me."
"Okay,
yeah," she consented.
She
stood beneath the opening and made a stirrup with her hands, letting him step
into it and then heaving him upwards. His upper body went easily through and he
braced himself with his arms to pull himself through the remainder of the way.
"Well
done, Sailor," she called with a quick laugh.
"Yeah,
and it's your turn, Marine," he returned, dropping flat onto the roof and
extending his arms down to her.
"Harm,
you can't pull me up there, especially with your ribs," she fretted.
"Right
now we don't know if they're broken or what, too much movement could cause one
to puncture a lung."
"Thanks,"
he retorted. "You are always such a little optimist. I'll worry about my
ribs, you worry about getting your six out of there and hurry up. We're burning
daylight here."
He
did not add that he was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of her still in
the site of their entrapment and he above. "Move it, Colonel."
Yielding
to the inevitable she gamely raised her arms, catching his wrists as he did
hers.
"On
three," he coached. "One---two---three!"
And with a powerful heave, born of desperation to have her free, he pulled her
up with him, the force sending them both rolling from the roof to the pile of
snow surrounding the cabin.
She
was ripped from his grasp and a sudden flashback of the avalanche hit him as he
watched her roll away, stopping several feet from him. Before he could reach
her he could hear her making odd noises, sounding like sobbing.
"Mac,
what is it, are you hurt?" he demanded anxiously. "Are you
crying?"
He
stumbled over himself in his haste to reach her, rolling her into his arms when
he did so. When he brushed snow from her face he found her to be laughing
hysterically.
"What
is so damn funny?" He demanded. "Do you realize you scared me to
death? I thought you were crying because you were hurt."
He
gave her a little shake of irritation and then hugged her tightly to him in
relief.
"This
whole scenario," she finally gasped out, trying to calm herself.
"You and me, trapped together, then us flying off the roof and.... I don't
know - it just suddenly seemed funny. Better to laugh than cry, huh?"
He
gave a long sigh and kissed her forehead, shaking his head in amazement as he
stood and pulled her to her feet. One look at her covered in snow started him
laughing as well and for several minutes they held on to each other, both
laughing together.
"Well,
that was cathartic," she finally gasped and sobered as she surveyed the
white world in which they were standing. "Now where do we go from
here?"
“We
start walking,” Harm stated simply.
***************************
“Boss! We’ve got company!”
Army
Captain Gray Synclaire turned from the plans he was
studying to his man in the doorway of the tiny cabin.
“Who
is it?” He asked sharply.
“Don’t
know, sir. We found two sets of tracks. Very close together and uneven. Looks
like one might be injured.”
“Find
them,” Captain Synclaire ordered flatly. “Find them
and bring them to me.”
****************************
An
hour later, the pair stumbled to a halt near a small outcropping of rocks.
Breathing heavily, Harm slumped against one, bending over to brace his hands on
his knees. Worried, Mac rubbed her hand up and down his broad back.
“We
need to stop for a while,” she told him gently.
Harm
shook his head. “Can’t. Just let me catch my breath.”
Suddenly,
a faint noise reached their ears. Straightening, Mac looked around, searching
the distance.
“What
is that?” She asked in a low voice.
“I’m
not sure,” Harm answered, slowly returning to his full height.
The
dull buzzing sound came closer.
“Mac…”
Harm’s voice held a warning note.
“Yes?”
“Run!”
They
darted around the rocks and took off as fast as they could in the treacherous
snow just as two black snow machines crested the rise behind them. Harm reached
for Mac’s hand and dragged her in front of him, keeping himself between her and
the men chasing them.
“Keep
going! As fast as you can!” he yelled.
“I’m
not leaving you!” she called over her shoulder.
“Just
go!”
Their
pursuers were upon them, breaking apart to surround Harm and Mac. Harm pushed
Mac ahead of him. A snow machine crossed before them and the passenger launched
himself at Mac, knocking her flat in the powdery snow. With a cry of rage, Harm
lunged for her attacker, hitting him square on. The two men rolled over in the
snow. Mac scrambled to her feet.
“Harm!”
she cried.
Before
she could take a step, someone grabbed her from behind, roping an arm around
her neck and cutting off her air supply. Instinctively, Mac fought the man
holding her, choking as she tried to release his iron grip.
A
gunshot rent the air and the tableau froze.
“I
suggest you stand up very slowly if you don’t want me to kill this very pretty
lady.”
Slowly,
Harm straightened to his full height, his eyes on Mac as she struggled to
breathe against the man’s arm. They man he’d been fighting with stood up and
roughly twisted his arms behind his back. Harm bit down the pain in his side
and stood his ground.
“Who
are you?” Harm asked, his voice deadly calm.
“You’ll
find out soon enough.” The man holding Mac answered flatly.
Several
minutes later the snowmobiles arrived at a cabin set back into a grove of
trees. Mac and Harm were pulled roughly from the snow machines and taken
inside. A lone man was seated at a draft table studying a set of blueprints. He
looked up slowly and stared at Harm and Mac. Slowly, he rose to his feet and
walked around to stand before them.
“Who
are you?” he asked calmly.
“Who
are you?” Harm countered.
This
earned him a blow to the back with the butt of a rifle, dropping him to his
knees.
“Harm!” Mac cried, struggling to get away from the man holding her.
The
other men pulled Harm back to his feet and his faced the older man again, his
eyes cold.
“Commander
Harmon Rabb, Jr., United States Navy.” Harm
practically spit the words out.
“Lt.
Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, United Stated Marine Corp.” Mac sneered, her voice cold.
“Well,
well, well, what brings two people of your caliber out here to the wilds of
“Who
are you?” Harm questioned again.
“Captain
Gray Synclaire,
"I
know who you are," Mac looked at him more carefully. "And more
accurately would be to say you're late of the US Army, having been officially
classified a deserter."
Recognition
dawned with Harm as well, having seen the man's picture posted at Elmendorf.
"Let me guess," he said slowly. "Your people are responsible for
what's been happening around here, most specifically a certain chopper
crash."
"We
gave the lieutenant a chance to work with us and told him what would happen if
he didn't." Synclaire gave a short laugh.
"Now the next time we tell one of those Navy bozos we need some help we'll
point up the lieutenant's accident as a reminder."
"Just
what have you got going here, Synclaire?" Harm
asked, keeping his voice level. "Raising your own private army I'm
guessing - planning a little anarchy."
"That's
about right," Synclaire nodded. "And we're
not the only ones. There's groups like us around the
country. But why am I telling you this? Bailey, take these two to the prisoner
trailer and I'll figure out what use they can be. Actually...." He paused
and rose, coming around the desk to Mac.
"Actually,
I know of one thing right off. This is a pretty Marine. I don't believe I've
ever had a Marine officer before." He leaned in close, touching her cheek
and she spat at him. "Bitch!" he roared and roughly backhanded her,
leaving a scarlet impression across her cheek and tears in her eyes.
"Synclaire, you're a dead man," Harm's voice was low
and deadly. "I'm going to put my hands around your throat and send your
sorry soul back to hell where you came from."
"Big
talk from a man with no weapon and his hands pinned behind him," Synclaire sneered. "Take them out of here but, Sarah,
I may see you later."
Mac's
eyes were large with alarm at the threat but she said nothing, staring into
Harm's face which was dark with rage and fear that something like that could
happen to her.
Bailey
pushed them out of the cabin, keeping his rifle trained on their backs, nudging
now and then as they walked up the path. They came to a small camping trailer,
one of many in the trees there and he unlocked the door. "In,
Colonel," he ordered.
Mac
began to step on to the high step when her footing failed and she stumbled
back.
"I
said IN!" Bailey yelled, shoving her roughly forward, causing her to land
on the floor of the camper.
Harm
swung around in rage and Bailey gave him a sharp poke in the stomach with the
rife, knocking him down next to her.
"Harm,
stop. I'm all right," Mac clamped an arm across his middle, terrified he
would be hurt further on her behalf.
"Bailey,
you and I are going to have our time, just as I am with your boss," Harm
warned, every syllable he uttered deadly serious.
Bailey
laughed and slammed the door, locking it from the outside with a large steel
padlock.
Tears
were still on Mac's cheeks from where the slap had so badly stung and she
turned away, not wanting him to see. "I'm okay," she said, her voice
barely audible.
His
back and side ached but his concern was for her, lifting her from the floor and
taking her to the small cot where he lowered her and then tenderly lay his hand along her cheek. "I'm going to kill that
bastard," he swore.
She
put her hand up, covering his. "Harm, promise me something," she
said, her eyes pleading. "If they came back here and want me to go to Synclaire...well I...I can handle
that. I'm a Marine and I can take care of myself. The one thing I couldn't
handle is you being hurt...or worse...trying to defend me."
He
drew his breath in sharply. "Mac, don't ask me to promise that,
please."
"Of
all things, I can't let Synclaire touch you like he
was thinking. He'll have to kill me first."
"Harm,
listen," Mac's voice went up an octave. "Don't you see, I can bear
that if I have to, but don't make me have to live with your death on top of it,
please." Her eyes filled with tears and she
squeezed his hand tightly. "Please," she added.
"Okay,
you've got it," Harm pressed her cheek gently, at the same time praying it
would never come to that. There was a dirty towel hanging above the sink and a
bottle of water sitting nearby. Wetting the towel with the water, icy from
sitting in the unheated trailer, he held it to her cheek. At the same time
their eyes locked, and the message of before was conveyed once again.
"Talk,
soon as we're out of here," he reminded her in a soft whisper as he sat
next to her and pulled her into his arms, resting her against his non-injured
side. "Rest now," he encouraged. "You'll need every bit of your
strength if we try to make it away from here."
1630 ZULU
ELMENDORF AFB
“Admiral!”
Holding
his cover in place with one hand, Admiral Chegwidden jogged quickly away from
the transport helicopter that had just brought him the final leg of his
journey. Ahead of him was his young friend, Captain Aaron Savage.
“Captain!” A.J. smiled warmly, clasping hands with the younger man.
“Good
to see you, sir. Sorry it’s under these circumstances,” Aaron greeted as the
two men started walking toward the building ahead.
Inside,
Aaron led the way down a long corridor to a small group of offices. Inside a spartan conference room, there were
another man waited.
“Admiral
Chegwidden, glad you could make it so quickly.”
“A.J.,
Colonel Paxton,” Aaron introduced.
“Colonel,”
A.J. greeted, shaking the older man’s hand. “Now, do you have any idea where my
officers are?”
“Right
here,” Colonel Paxton began, moving over to where a large map hung down. “Is
the place where the helicopter went down.”
“There was an avalanche over that area about an hour after Ensign Dixon showed Rabb and MacKenzie how to get to
the site,” Aaron spoke up.
“Have
you sent any men up there?” A.J. raised one brow.
“I
sent a helicopter in to assess the site but they didn’t find anything, not even
the remains of the chopper,” Aaron stated heavily.
“I
want to see the site,” A.J. stated firmly.
“Yes,
sir,” Aaron nodded.
“Do
you need a team to go with you?” Colonel Paxton asked.
“Not
yet,” A.J. shook his head. “I want to see the area for myself first.”
The
three men left the conference room and started down the hall again. “Is there
anything in that area where they could have taken shelter?” A.J. questioned,
staring at the floor as they walked.
“I
have men looking into that now,” Colonel Paxton responded. “One of them
believes there may be some sort of trapper’s cabin up there but they’re trying
to verify a location.”
“Good,
good,” A.J. murmured.
Several
minutes later, A.J. and Aaron were rising above Elmendorf in a helicopter,
headed for the back acreage. They flew over acres and acres of thick green
Evergreens, spotting Moose and an occasional wolf darting from the brush. Soon
the area of the original crash came into view. Lying low against the side of a
mountain, the area was clear of trees but now filled in by one continuous ocean
of white.
“Been
along time since I’ve seen that much snow,” A.J. mused.”
“Bet
you don’t miss it, sir.”
A.J.
managed a small chuckle. “Not in the least.”
As
the chopper flew low, A.J. lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes and scanned
the ground below.
“Circle
back around again!” he called to the pilot.
“Did
you find something?” Aaron questioned,
“I’m
not sure…” A.J.’s voice trailed off. “No, it’s
nothing,” he answered, lowering the binoculars a second before Harm and Mac’s
first dig-out came into view.
1800 ZULU
THE MILITIA CAMP
The
door to their trailer was jerked open, startling them both into alertness.
“Hey,
Colonel, Captain Synclaire wants to see you.”
Harm
and Mac exchanged a glance as they rose.
“I’m
going with her,” Harm stated.
“Sorry,
Squid, the invitation is for the Colonel only.”
“I’m
not…” Harm began hotly only to be stopped by a look from Mac.
“I’ll
be okay,” she whispered.
Harm’s
face tightened and he gave her a warning look. “Mac…”
“You
promised me, Harm,” she whispered, catching his hand and squeezing it tightly.
Releasing
him, she turned to the man at the door. Without a word, he jerked her out of
the trailer and slammed the door on Harm, locking it from the other side.
“Damn
it all to hell!” Harm yelled furiously, kicking a nearby chair and sending it
skittering across the floor.
Mac remained silent as the guard took her back to the main cabin. Opening the