"Major, in my office, please."

Major Sarah MacKenzie looked at the phone for a second where the Admiral had just burst over the intercom.

"MacKenzie as requested, sir."

"At ease, Major. Have a seat, please."

Major Sarah MacKenzie lowered herself into a leather chair in front of Admiral A.J. Chegwidden’s desk, looking at him expectantly.

"Major, you’re help is being requested by the SecNav for an assignment in Russia." The Admiral watched her face closely with the announcement. The last trip the Major took to Russia was with Lt. Commander Rabb and it was not a pleasant one.

Mac schooled her features into a neutral expression but her insides churned at the Admiral’s words. The last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near Russia but at the same time she certainly didn’t want to admit it out loud. "What kind of assignment, Admiral?" Mac asked calmly.

"SecNav is going to attend a conference with the Russian Prime Minister. In light of the recent trouble there they want a show of good faith with a representative from JAG. I want someone I can trust on this and Commander Rabb doesn’t speak Russian. That leaves me with you. Lt. Roberts is going to assist with anything the two of you might need and to give you some company." So far she’d shown no reaction. A.J. knew she wouldn’t either. She was a Marine – as she was so fond of pointing out – and she could take care of herself.

"When do we leave, sir?"

"Tonight, Major. PO Tiner has already made the arrangements."

Mac rose to attention in front of the Admiral.

"Dismissed, Major MacKenzie."

"Sir."

0010 ZULU

MAJOR MACKENZIE'S APARTMENT

WASHINGTON D.C.

Mac was just zipping her suitcase when she heard a knock on the door.

"Coming!" she called.

"Harm! Hi…come in," she smiled, stepping back to let him pass. He walked into the living room, his presence making her apartment seem so small. That very presence used to overwhelm her when they first met. A lot of people tended to be awestruck by the Lt. Commander but Mac was learning it was oftentimes a façade he wanted the rest of the world to see. It seldom portrayed the man she best friends with.

He was still in his uniform and her eyes slid over the broad expanse of his shoulders before he turned to smile at her.

"You were already gone by the time I got back to the office," he began. "The Admiral told me about the trip to Russia you and Bud are taking. I wish he’d let me go with you instead."

Mac walked into the room and sat down on the couch. Harm took a seat across the way from her in the armchair, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. Mac gave him the best smile she could manage and tried to look positive.

"It will be all right, Harm. We’re only supposed to be gone a few days."

Harm let his eyes rest on her pretty face. He could see the small traces of stress around her eyes and mouth. He knew her better than almost anyone else and he knew the trip wouldn’t be as pleasant as she was trying to make it out to be. There was just too much bad history there for them. There were some good memories, too, but those memories were better remembered on their own turf. Mac stood up then and walked to the kitchen. Harm rose as well and walked a short distance behind her. She was dressed comfortably for the long trip in black slacks and a dark red sleeveless top.

"Things will be just fine," she repeated, turning to smile at him again.

Harm smiled indulgently at her, knowing it would be fruitless to pursue an argument. "As long as we’ve established that…" his voice trailed off teasingly. "I’m taking you to the airport to meet Bud and Harriet so if you’re ready we’ll blow this pop stand."

Mac turned away so he wouldn’t see the delighted smile that curved her features. Taking her to Washington National would give her a little time alone with her partner. She dared not let him have any inkling that her thoughts seemed to be centered on him more and more these days. Especially after the conversation she had with Jordan Parker two nights ago at a party held by Bud and Harriet to celebrate their respective promotions. The other woman was certainly nice enough but rubbed Mac the wrong way. A reaction she was sure had to do with Harm but that was something else she would never admit to. Jealousy wasn’t a very becoming emotion.

But what had startled her most was Jordan’s assumption that she had intimate knowledge of Harm and that there was more to their relationship that friends and partners. Seated at a small table with Carolyn Imes, the question was posed to Jordan about how good Harm was. When Jordan didn’t understand, Imes clarified that she was curious about what he was like in the bedroom. Jordan laughed a little self-consciously and shrugged then looked at Mac.

The other two women didn’t seem to believe her protests that she and Harm didn’t have that kind of relationship. Only in my dreams, the little voice in her head stated. Later, Jordan and Mac were playing darts and she surprised Mac with another statement.

"Mac? Hello? Is anyone in there?"

Mac jumped slightly and then laughed softly. "I’m sorry. I guess I spaced out for a minute," she murmured.

"I guess you did," Harm echoed softly. "You okay?"

Mac smiled. "Fine. Let me get my things and we’ll go."

A few minutes later they were in Harm’s corvette and on their way. Neither of them seemed inclined to talk and the silence in the small cab grew. To cover the gap in conversation, Mac fiddled with his radio, settling on soft country music. Shooting a sidelong glance at her, Harm watched the light from the passing street lamps illuminate her features. God, she was beautiful. One of the most beautiful women he’d ever known. And that beauty went far beyond the surface to a true and courageous heart. The words of the song playing caught his attention.

Pretty true words to describe them – at least lately. Since their return from Russia and the search that ultimately led them to the end of the search for Harm’s father – they’d become increasingly close. Harm was fairly certain her feelings for him went beyond friendship and he was definitely sure his did.

But working with his best friend and trying to explore a new, intimate relationship with her at the same time was not something Harm was brave enough to take on yet. He wasn’t sure he could take the risk of losing her.

Mac noted Harm’s preoccupation and turned her head to look out the window – trying to listen to the music on the radio. Another song came on, this one a love song, too. It sounded very akin to something she felt often these days.

She knew Harm would understand if she told him how much this trip to Russia scared her. Months ago when they were there together they almost didn’t make it out alive. They were lost so deep inside that they weren’t sure anyone would ever be able to find them. They’d been looking for Harm’s father. Harm had been adamant about Mac not going but there was no way she was going to let him go alone. He needed someone to watch his six and she was the only one he trusted enough.

The words to the song playing now crawled into Harm’s head, interrupting his train of thought. He turned his attention to the lyrics.

If she had any idea he was thinking about what it would be like to spend the rest of his life with her, she may run screaming in the opposite direction. But truer words were never spoken. He would do anything for her – and she could come to him no matter what.

Harm knew his partner was worried about this trip no matter what her protests to the contrary. The last thing he wanted was to upset her before she left so he let the subject drop. It was obvious she didn’t want to talk about it. When the song ended and the announcer came back on the air, he felt the tentative touch of her fingers against the back of his hand. Releasing the gearshift, he turned his hand and caught her slender fingers for just an instant. Squeezing gently to let her know he understood her need to reach out with completely giving up her control. Mac never turned her head to look at him but he saw the ghost of a smile on her face in the reflection of the window.

"Sir! Ma’am! Over here!"

Harm and Mac made their way through the crowded gate to where Lt. Bud Roberts and his wife, Lt. J.G. Harriet Sims waited.

"Bud, Harriet," Harm greeted, kissing Harriet’s cheek. "How’s Junior doing?" he teased gently.

"Fine, sir," Harriet answered. "He’s a little active tonight. He must sense all the commotion going on. We had to hurry to get Bud ready to go."

Mac laughed softly. "I know the feeling. I just started grabbing things and throwing them into the suitcase."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention please. We will begin boarding…"

The four looked at each other as people around them started gathering their belongings to line up at the jet way door.

"Major, have a good trip and don’t worry about the Commander here. I’ll take good care of him," Harriet promised, smiling broadly.

"Thanks, Harriet," Mac smiled fondly at the other woman. "I’ll make sure Bud stays out of trouble," she promised in a mock whisper behind her hand.

The two women laughed and then Bud and Harriet moved away a few steps to say their good-byes. Harm looked down at Mac, his eyes tender.

"Take care of yourself, Marine."

"You, too, flyboy. Try to stay on the Admiral’s good side, okay?"

"Me? I’ll be the perfect angel." Harm gave her his best innocent look.

Mac rolled her eyes. "That’s what I’m afraid of."

Harm closed the short distance between them and gathered her close. Mac wrapped her arms around his waist and rested against his strength for just a moment, pressing her face to his chest. Harm stroked one big hand over her silky hair, closing his eyes for a brief second as he inhaled her delicate scent.

A few feet away Bud and Harriet watched with indulgent smiles. Bud looked down at his very pregnant wife and gave her a quick kiss.

"Do you think they’ll every figure it out?" he asked.

"If they’d open their eyes for just one second, that’s all it would take to see their feelings. For all of our sakes but especially theirs, I hope they work it out sooner rather than later," Harriet answered softly.

Harm cleared his throat slightly and loosened his hold, moving back from her. Reluctantly, Mac allowed her arms to fall away from his lean middle. As she stepped back, he reached out and trailed one finger down her cheek. Her brown eyes darkened slightly as she stared at him intently, trying to read his expression.

"If you need anything at all, you pick up the phone," he ordered softly.

"Even if I’m just homesick?" she murmured, trying to force a teasing note into her words but not quite making it.

"Anything," he stressed. "Especially that."

"This is the final call for flight 1290…"

"You better go," Harm stated.

Slowly, he let his hand drop and took a step back. Mac picked up her things and gave him one last look before turning to smile at Bud and Harriet.

"Ready, ma’am?" Bud asked, trying to help clear the tension.

"Let’s do it," Mac nodded. "Take care, Harriet. Get plenty of rest and eat good," she ordered, smiling broadly as she hugged the young Lt.

"I will, ma’am. Have a good trip."

Mac and Bud went to the door and gave their boarding passes to the smiling young flight attendant. She waved them through and they started down the long jet way. After just a couple of steps, Mac hesitated and then turned. Harm saw her stop and looked around the space by his feet to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. He looked back up at her and saw Bud move her to the side to allow some other passengers to get by. Mac took one step back toward Harm and then stopped again. Harm could see the indecision in her face. She looked like she might be struggling with tears and he wondered not for the first time that night if there was something else bothering her besides this trip. She just wasn’t acting at all like herself.

"Ma’am, we have to go," Bud murmured at her elbow.

Mac cast one more glance at Harm and without a further thought, dropped her carry on and briefcase next to Bud and ran toward her partner. Harm caught her in mid-stride, sweeping her up in his arms and holding her close. Mac felt the brim of his hat brush her hair and her feet leave the ground when he straightened. She clutched his neck tight and squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the cool strands of hair at the back of his head. They made quite a sight – the tall Navy Commander in his dark blue uniform and the petite brunette he was holding so close. As fast as she had come back to him, Mac pushed herself away and turned to go back to Bud. Harm’s face softened as he watched her go.

Bud and Harriet watched the exchange and sent a knowing look at each other. Bud waved as Mac collected her things and they disappeared down the jet way without another look.

Harm felt a gentle touch on his sleeve. "They’ll be just fine, Commander," Harriet smiled encouragingly.

"I’m sure you’re right, Harriet," Harm nodded.

Mac and Bud touched down at their one and only layover to change planes before going on to Moscow. On the way to their next gate, Mac spotted a small gift card shop.

"Bud, I want to go in here for a minute," she announced, touching his sleeve.

"Yes, ma’am."

Mac smiled teasingly at him. "Bud, how many times have I told you to call me Mac when we’re away from work?"

"Yes, ma’… er, Mac. It’s habit, ma’am. I’ll probably still be calling you that when we’re old and gray," Bud smiled, his eyes twinkling.

Mac just sighed as they walked into the shop. Bud waited off to the side while Mac scanned a small rack of postcards. She pulled out one with an old biplane on the front and the words ‘Wish You Were Here’ and stepped over to the counter. She paid the clerk and then dug a pen out of her case. Thinking carefully for a minute, she started to write.

The black limousine that had picked up Mac and Bud at the airport pulled up at the Porte Cochere outside of the hotel and a bellman stepped forward to assist them out. When they’d arrive in Moscow, they had gone directly to meet with the SecNav to be debriefed. The long afternoon and evening on top of the 13-hour trip from Washington had all but wiped them both out. Their luggage was loaded onto a cart and taken in to the registration desk where the bellman waited patiently for them. Mac stepped up the counter first and smiled at the clerk. She addressed the young man in Russian and he smiled delightedly and responded to her perfectly accented words. Within moments, Mac had them checked in and they were on their way upstairs.

"Goodnight, Bud. If you need anything I’m just next door."

"Goodnight, ma’am. Try and get some rest."

"I will. You do the same and don’t stay up the rest of the night talking to Harriet on the phone," Mac teased. "I expect to see you at breakfast at 0800. The Embassy car will be here to pick us up at 9:30."

"Got it, ma’am. I’ll be ready."

Mac waited inside her room for the bellman to unload her suitcases, gave him a tip and locked the door behind him.

With a huge sigh, she sat down on the edge of the queen size bed and slipped off her shoes. She was so tired that wasn’t sure she could even lie down and go to sleep. Maybe a hot bath would help. She gathered her toiletries, clean underwear and her nightgown from her suitcases and went into the spacious bathroom, piling everything on the counter. There was a basket there of beautifully arranged girlie stuff so she pulled out a small bottle of jasmine scented bubble bath and started the water running in the bathtub.

Mac wondered back out into the main room and spotted an elaborately wrapped basket of goodies on the dresser. Pulling off the ribbon and cellophane, she found assorted Russian chocolates, truffles, mints and some fresh fruits. The junkie in her couldn’t resist so she settled on a small box of chocolate truffles. Taking the box back with her, she quickly undressed and slipped into the bath, sliding down until the bubbles were up to her chin. She nibbled away at the chocolates and forced her mind to shut down. She didn’t want to think about why they were here or about what happened the last time. Instead her thoughts drifted to her partner. She’d seen the concern in his eyes at the airport but there’d been nothing either of them could do. Apparently the Admiral felt she would be safe here.

Her eyelids felt heavy as fatigue overtook her. Mac finished her bath and got out. A few minutes later she was sliding beneath the bed covers. Her head was asleep before she hit the pillow.

Bud knocked on Mac’s door for the third time in as many minutes but there was still no response. As loud as he was knocking the whole floor was probably awake now. Concerned he went back to his room and dialed the operator.

"This is Lt. Bud Roberts in room 1410. Could you please ring Major MacKenzie in room 1412 for me? Thank you." Bud waited for a long moment. "There’s no answer? Do you have any messages from Major MacKenzie for me? Did you see her leave this morning? You didn’t.

No messages? Yes, thank you. Yes, you have a good day, too." Bud put down the phone, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

Where could she have gone? He wondered. It wasn’t like her to go somewhere without telling him of a change in plans and they would be going to the Embassy later. Opening his briefcase, Bud found the number and name of their contact at the Embassy. A Troy Belmont. Bud dialed the number.

"Good morning, Mr. Belmont’s office."

"Good morning. This is Lt. Bud Roberts from the US JAG office. We’re scheduled to meet with Mr. Belmont later this morning. Is he in, please?"

"Ahh, yes, Lt., we’ve been awaiting you and Major MacKenzie. Mr. Belmont is away from his desk. May I have him call you back?" the young woman on the other end of the line asked.

"Please just give him a message. Major MacKenzie and I have been delayed so we will not be ready to meet with Mr. Belmont this morning. If you would just tell him that and let him know I will call later this afternoon with our itinerary."

"Certainly, Lt."

Bud broke the connection on the phone and then dialed the number to the front desk. "Could someone please connect me to the Hotel Manager?"

A few minutes later, Bud was standing next to Anton Propanov, a tall, distinguished man with a helpful demeanor who’s introduced himself as the General Manager of the hotel. He opened the door to Mac’s room and stepped back to allow Bud to go in. Nothing seemed to be amiss in her room. The bedcovers were ruffled so Bud knew she’d at least gone to bed. Hesitantly, he walked through the room to the bathroom and peered inside.

There was small evidence that she’d taken a bath the night before but no signs of a problem. Back in the room, he checked around and found her briefcase and her purse and a count revealed her suitcases still there.

Bud turned to the manager. "Thank you, Mr. Propanov."

He returned to his own room and dug out his cell phone. It was almost 0900 so it would be almost 2000 hours in D.C. Bud dialed Admiral Chegwidden’s number and waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?"

"It’s Lt. Roberts, Admiral."

"Lt., how are things in Moscow so far? I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon."

"I didn’t expect to be calling, Admiral, but there’s a problem."

That got A.J.’s attention instantly. He stiffened slightly, his grip tightening on the phone. "What is it, Lt.?"

"Major MacKenzie seems to have disappeared."

"Disappeared? What exactly do you mean, Lt. Roberts?"

"We were supposed to meet this morning at 0800 for breakfast, sir. There was no answer at her door and she wasn’t in the restaurant. I checked with the front desk but they haven’t seen her and there are no messages. I just had the hotel manager let me into her room and it appears that she did go to bed last night since the bed is unmade but there is no sign of her."

The Admiral was silent for a moment. "I don’t like this, Bud. Have you contacted Mr. Belmont at the Embassy?"

"I left a message with his secretary explaining that we would be unable to meet him this morning and that I would call later this afternoon. I didn’t want to talk to anyone else until I’d spoken with you or Commander Rabb," Bud answered. "Would like me to contact the SecNav?"

"No, Bud. Don’t talk to anyone else just yet. Stay there in your room and let me call Commander Rabb. I’ll get back to you soon. You handled this good, son."

"Thank you, sir," Bud answered, knowing he should feel proud but instead he only felt sick that something that might have happened to the Major.

The phone interrupted one of the best parts in his book. Sighing, Harm put it down and reached for the phone. "Rabb."

"Commander, you’re up rather late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?"

Harm was surprised to hear A.J.’s voice on the line. "No, sir. Just catching up on my reading. Is something wrong, sir?" Harm laid the book down on the couch next to him and leaned forward slightly.

"I just spoke to Mister Roberts and it seems there’s a problem. He believes Major MacKenzie has disappeared."

The Admiral’s direct words dropped the bottom right out of Harm’s stomach. "What? What does he mean disappeared? What happened to her?"

"He has no idea, Commander." A.J. relayed what he’d learned from Bud and Harm drew in a steadying breath.

"That’s not like Mac, Admiral. Just the act of not making the bed tells me something is wrong. The woman’s a neat freak. And she wouldn’t take off without telling Bud, especially if they had plans." Swallowing down his first reaction to jump on the next plane, Harm continued. "What would you like me to do, Admiral?"

"Meet me at the office, Mr. Rabb. I’m going to try and locate Webb and get him in on this. I have a feeling he may be the only one we can turn to."

"Yes, sir."

With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Harm hung up the phone and rose to his feet. A few minutes later he was headed toward their office.

Almost an hour later, Harm walked into the JAG office just moments after Admiral Chegwidden. A.J. took note of the tight lines around Harm’s eyes and mouth as he struggled to hold onto his control. At the same time, A.J. was busy berating himself for ever allowing Major MacKenzie and Lt. Roberts to make this trip.

"In my office, Commander," he barked.

"Sir."

Harm closed the door behind him and turned to attention.

"At ease, Commander."

"Aye, sir."

"I haven’t been able to get a hold of…"

A knock sounded on the door, interrupting the Admiral.

"Come in," he called in exasperation.

The door opened and Webb strolled into A.J.’s office, closing the door again behind him. "Is this a private party or can anyone join in?"

"Mister Webb, I’m glad you have time for jokes," A.J. crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the young intelligence agent.

Clayton Webb would have liked to be anywhere – even dead – than standing in Admiral Chegwidden’s office. Once they found out why he was there, he might very well end up dead or torn limb from limb. The outcome would be the same. He took quick note of the two men facing him. Commander Rabb looked like he was being eaten alive from the inside out but he was doing a tremendous job of hiding it. He was in jeans and a gray Navy sweatshirt.

The Admiral looked as formidable as ever in black jeans and a black turtleneck that made him look more like the SEAL he used to be than the Judge Advocate General. His expression was a careful blank but Webb was certain he was just as upset as the Commander.

"Have a seat, Mister Webb," A.J. ordered quietly.

"I think I’ll stand," Webb answered, not wanting to sit down in front of these two and wondering how fast he could get out of the office.

"Did you suspect anything might run afoul when you pushed the SecNav to send two of my people?" A.J. demanded point blank.

"Not something like this," Webb shrugged carelessly. Damn, this is not going to be easy at all. He already knows I had something to do with it.

"What are you talking about?" Harm interjected, looking between the two men. "Do you know what’s happened to Mac? Did you send them into a dangerous situation without telling them?" He yelled at both men.

Webb took one step forward before A.J. could answer. "We weren’t sure of anything, Harm. We needed someone to draw our man out. Mac was the most logical choice. But we never thought she would…"

The last words never made it out of his mouth as Harm lunged for him. Webb had no time to duck as Harm caught him with a right that sent him crashing into the wall behind him. The Commander was coming at him again when A.J. rushed around his desk and stepped in front of his officer.

"Get a hold of yourself, Commander," he ordered harshly. He turned to look at Webb who was picking himself up off the floor. "I should let him have his way with you, Mister Webb, and I may yet if you don’t start telling us everything you know."

Webb straightened his jacket and tie, wincing as he rotated his jaw a little. "I deserved that, Harm, but I want you to know I truly didn’t expect anything like this."

"Spit it out, Webb," Harm ordered angrily. "Tell me what the hell we’re up against. And who."

"We’ve been trailing a group for months that we think are part of the Russian Mafia. Since they’re under protection of the Kremlin, it’s harder for us to get a firm grasp on them. This group has been slowly working to build their own empire away from the Kremlin. Along the way they’ve been selling Russian and American secrets to smaller Middle Eastern countries."

"Double agents?" Harm interrupted.

"We don’t know who they’re working for, Harm. No one is claiming any knowledge of their activities, who they’re working for or why they’re doing this. Power is always a good factor. Then a week ago we found out who was behind the operation."

A.J. and Harm both glared volumes at him but Webb pretended indifference. "Sokol has a brother," he announced matter-of-factly.

The name sunk into the other two men and Harm lunged for Webb again, just missing the agent when the Admiral swung around and blocked the way. Webb drew a quick breath at escaping another punch from Harm but before he even got the breath all the way back out, he found himself against the wall with a hand cutting into his windpipe and the Admiral’s face about an inch away from his own.

"I should kill you myself, Webb. If anything happens to Major MacKenzie there won’t be a rock big enough for you to hide under. You got me?"

Webb nodded wildly, his face starting to turn a funny shade of red. A.J. released his grip and stepped back. Calmly, the older man walked back around behind his desk. He glanced up at Harm and Webb. "Mr. Webb, I suggest you get on a phone out there and start calling in your favors. We’re going after the Major and I expect your full cooperation on this." It wasn’t posed as a question and Webb didn’t even considered arguing. "Oh, and Webb? I assume no one in official channels will know anything about this?"

"No, sir."

"Good, then we’re on our own. Just the way I like it," A.J. stated, almost more to himself than the others. "Dismissed, gentlemen."

The corner of Webb’s mouth tilted up in a smirk at the command. The Admiral didn’t even seem to mind that he couldn’t technically order him around. He just gave an order and expected it to be followed. Harm jerked the Admiral’s office door open and almost barreled right into Harriet. The young woman’s hand was lifted to knock and she smiled apologetically.

"Bud called and told me what happened. I thought I might be able to help."

Harriet could feel the tension radiating between the three men as she looked at each of their faces. There was a telltale spot on Clayton Webb’s face and she surmised that one of her commanding officers had knocked him a good one.

"That’s very good of you, Lt., but you should be home resting," The Admiral stated gently.

"I couldn’t rest, sir, knowing that Major MacKenzie may be in danger." Her hands clutched the ends of the pale peach maternity smock she wore, her light eyes were worried.

"You’re a good friend, Lt.," A.J. murmured. "Very well."

Harriet stepped back from the doorway and went on to her desk as Harm and Webb both filed out of the Admiral’s office. Harm stopped in the doorway of his office and turned back to Harriet.

"Sit tight for right now, Harriet, and try not to get too worried, okay? We need to work out a plan," Harm told her.

"Yes, sir. I’ll get some coffee going," she smiled gently.

"Thank you."

Consciousness returned slowly to Mac. Several sensations hit her at once. Her body seemed to be one giant ache. Carefully, she tried to shift around but found that she couldn’t go far. Her wrists and ankle were bound and she was hanging from something above her head, her feet off the floor. Mac couldn’t feel anything in her arms and shoulders except that it felt like they were coming out of the sockets. The pain in the joints of her shoulders was excruciating.

Mac carefully drew in a deep breath, trying to bring her thoughts into focus. She was blindfolded and gagged and there was cool air on her skin. She was naked except for her panties. She tried to remember what had happened. The last thing she remembered was taking her bath and then going to bed.

"Well, I see that you’re finally awake, Major MacKenzie."

Mac’s head jerked toward the sound of the speaker’s voice. A man who’s heavy cologne stung her nose. He was standing close to her. A hand brushed against her damp hair and Mac tried to pull away from him. The man grabbed a hand full of her hair and held her still. He was very close now – she could feel his breath on her face.

"Don’t fight me, Major, and we’ll get along much better. You’ll find out in time why you’re here."

"Who… who are you?" Mac whispered, trying to lick her dry lips.

"A friend," he answered.

"I don’t know… you."

The man laughed softly, his voice mocking her.

"You will, Major. You will know me very well before this is over."

"Go to hell," she rasped out. "And… take your… threats with you."

The man dealt her a stinging blow across the face, snapping her head back and sending furthers shards of pain down her back. Mac felt her bottom lip split open and blood trickle down her chin.

He grasped her chin a punishing grip, jerking her head up. "You are testing my patience, Sarah.

He released her and an instant later Mac felt a small prick on the inside of her arm. Then she started to drift off until blackness claimed her again.

"Sir? This just came for you."

Harm looked up at a package in Harriet’s hands. He dropped his phone back in its cradle as she sat a medium size box down in front of him. The package was unmarked except for his name. He looked up at Harriet questioningly.

"It was hand delivered but security checked it. It’s clean, sir."

Harm dug out a pair of scissors and sliced through the packing tape. Folding back the flaps, he stared for a moment at a mound of white silk. Gingerly, he lifted it from the box and realized it was a woman’s nightgown.

"Sir, who would send…" Harriet began, her expression bemused.

"It’s Mac’s," Harm bit out.

The tangle of material slid against his big hands. The tiny spaghetti straps and parts of the body of it were shredded as though it had been ripped away. Harm’s fists clenched convulsively in the gown and his eyes closed briefly. Carefully laid the once pretty garment down. He looked back inside the box and pulled out a small manila envelope. He shook out the contents and threw the envelope back in the box.

"Oh my God!" Harriet’s shocked voice rang out.

The photo that fell out with the letter was facing up, giving Harriet a clear look at what it showed.

Harm snatched the photograph up, turning it facedown in his hand as pushed back from his chair. Hurrying around to Harriet, he slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"I need you to do me a favor, Harriet."

"But, Commander, what about…"

"Don’t think about it. I should have been more careful with what was in the box."

Harriet stopped in midstride and turned to Harm, clutching at his arms. "Please, find her, sir. Get her away from whoever did that to her," Harriet pleaded, blinking back tears.

"Away from who?"

Harriet and Harm turned to see first Webb step forward from the desk he was using and then to the Admiral who stood in his doorway. Harm held the photo and the letter out to the Admiral, careful to keep it turned away from Harriet.

"Here, sir."

A.J. took the proffered items and looked at the picture. He didn’t say anything but they could see his face tighten and when he looked up there was fury in his eyes. He held the photo out to Webb.

"Mister Webb, you’re coming with us tonight so I suggest you get whatever you need to make the trip," he ordered flatly.

"Harriet, I know you want to help but I want you to go back home and stay put. There’s nothing else you can do here and the less people who know about what we’re doing the better. Besides, we’ll need you to have a clear head tomorrow in case we need help," Harm explained gently.

Harriet nodded miserably. "Yes, sir."

They waited until she gathered her purse and with one final dejected look, she crossed the bullpen and left. Harm turned back to the Admiral.

"Was there anything else with this?" A.J. asked, indicating the photo.

"What was left of one of her silk nightgowns. It looks like they ripped it off of her," Harm answered, his voice tight.

"That would explain the burn marks on her skin," A.J. glanced at the picture again. "Let’s see what they have to say." He opened the letter Harm had handed to him.

"Thank your superiors for giving me the instrument I most desired. She will be of more use to me than any of your military secrets."

The Admiral looked at Webb. "I’m liking you less and less by the minute, Mister Webb. Do you know what he’s talking about?"

"Judging by the fact that he sent the letter to Harm, I would say his goal is revenge for the death of his brother.

Using Mac is the most effective way to get to us." Webb looked directly at Harm but didn’t move from where he stood. "For what it’s worth, Harm, I really am sorry. We had no idea something like this would happen. I’ll do everything I can to help get her back."

"You’ve gone too far this time, Webb. You should have known better than this," Harm ground out angrily. "If anything happens to her you’re a dead man."

Webb had no response for this because he knew it was would be exactly what he deserved. He was half in love with Sarah MacKenzie himself and he didn’t want to see anything happen to her. He was tempted to add that he was only doing what had to be done for the security of their country but for once he kept his mouth shut – knowing that the two men standing so close would most likely shoot him for a comment like that. They may yet before this was over.

"I made our flight arrangements. In the best interest of our safety and Mac’s, I think it best that we fly in the same way any normal person would. An associate of mine is drawing up all the necessary papers for us as we speak. You’ll get your new names when we get to the airport," Webb explained.

"That’s gonna take time we can’t afford to waste, Webb. We have to find Mac," Harm retorted.

"It’s our best option, Rabb," he protested.

"I agree with the Commander," A.J. spoke up. "I would rather we fly in now on a C-130. We can get into Ramstein and then catch a flight with one of the airlines into Moscow. It will save us some time. I’ll call and make the arrangements," he stated.

"Thank you, Admiral," Harm put in.

"I have men who will help us once we get to Moscow, Harm. We have to try to work with the element of surprise as much as possible. You know that so get your feelings out of this, Commander, or you won’t do Mac any good," Webb stated flatly, trying to revert to his devil-may-care attitude to hide his own feelings.

It took every ounce of Harm’s will to bite down the retort rising in his throat. He had to keep a clear head if he wanted to find his partner. Webb was right. They would have to wait somewhere along the line no matter what. Either for it to get dark enough to chute in or for the regular airlines to get them there. It was best to do it this way – for now.

Harm unlocked his front door and stepped inside. Flipping on the light, he dropped his keys on the counter along with the mail then took a closer look at the FedEx package in his hand. A quick glance at his watch showed that he had precious little time left to get his things together and get back to Andrews AFB.

He started to toss the FedEx package down, too, when he noticed the return address was Mac’s. The tracking printout showed tat it was sent from JFK. Thoughtful, he picked the envelope back up and ripped open the flap. When he upended it, a postcard fell out. Picking it up, Harm smiled when he saw the biplane on the front. It wasn’t yellow like his but it was a Steerman. The flowing script simply stated Wish You Were Here. He turned it over and read the words in Mac’s even script.

The message was awkward coming from Mac but it was heartfelt all the same and it touched him in the deepest part of his heart. For the first time since getting the Admiral’s call, Harm allowed the fear to take hold of him that he may never see his partner again. As the shakes came he dropped down on the couch and cradled his aching head in his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut against a threatening wave of tears. Afraid that if he allowed them to start, they’d never stop. He needed to be stronger now more than ever – for his sake and Mac’s.

Harm got ready quickly, dressing in a pair of black cammies and a black turtleneck. He gathered both of his weapons and their extra clips. He was lacing up his boots when there was a knock at the door. He crossed the room quickly and jerked it open, surprised to see Harriet.

"I thought I told you to go home and rest, Lt.?" He questioned gently.

Harriet clutched a small bag against her distended stomach like a shield. "I was on my way home when I thought of something. I went by the Major’s and gathered a few of her things. She might need…" Harriet’s voice broke.

Harm tugged her inside the apartment and shut the door. Harriet waved one hand through the air and sniffed. "I’m sorry, Commander. I wanted to apologize for earlier, too. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did at the office."

"Harriet," Harm grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. "You didn’t react any differently than the rest of us wanted to. Don’t worry about it, Lt." He smiled reassuringly. "Now what did you bring me for Mac?"

"Clothes and shoes. I thought she might need them in case something happens to her things at the hotel."

"Thank you, Harriet. It means a lot to both of us to have you and Bud," Harm told her. "I want you to know that."

"Thank you, sir. Bud and I wouldn’t want to work anywhere else," she managed a ghost of a smile but Harm saw the sincerity in her eyes. "I’ll get out of your way, sir. You and the Admiral be careful and call if you need anything."

"We will, Harriet. Now you get back home and get some rest. I believe we’ll send Bud home when we get there."

"Thank you, sir."

The three men all dressed in black hurried away from the C-130 that had brought them thus far and into a car waiting to take them to the airport where they would make the final leg of their journey to Moscow.

"He’s going to know we’re there as soon as we land," Webb commented.

"Are you suggesting we should be in disguise?" A.J. asked.

"It certainly wouldn’t hurt but I don’t think it’ll matter, either. He took Mac to get back at us all. It wouldn’t matter how we went in because he’ll be expecting us to come after her," Webb continued. "I think we have the element of surprise on our hands right now because we didn’t wait around to hear form him about his plans. But we don’t have a very big window."

There was no more conversation - as each man was lost in his own thoughts. Harm was trying desperately to get the image of Mac bound and gagged out of his mind. The words of the postcard that was now safely tucked away in a pocket rang in his memory like and anthem. Tipping his head back against his seat, he stared out unseeingly out a tiny window across from him into the inky blackness of the night around them. An image of her smiling flashed before his eyes. When he first met her in the rose garden. She’d been reluctant at best but had stilled bestowed on him a welcome smile.

He was captivated even then by her beautiful brown eyes and olive toned skin. She had an exotic look about her. A look that was only enhanced by her personality. As fiery and stubborn as the career she’d chosen for herself. She was very fond of reminding him that she was a Marine and she could take care of herself. Another memory came to him. The first time he ever took her up in his plane.

She was afraid of flying and it took him weeks to convince her to go. When he finally did, they had to make an emergency landing. They spent the couple of days on the run from poachers – one of which Mac had to kill at close range when he tried to rape her. Harm had been terrified something had happened to her. Something did in that quiet section of the woods. He hadn’t been able to forget the look in her eyes over killing the man – even though she’d had no other choice. She’d taken a bullet in the thigh earlier and when….

…when she couldn’t walk any further because of the infection and pain, Harm had picked her up and carried her the rest of the way. She was barely conscious but she never lost track of the way it felt to be in his arms. Arms she wished were holding her now. Mac had lost complete track of time. The drugs were wearing off again but she was too numb to feel anything. Even the burning fire earlier in her arms and shoulders had faded away to nothingness. Mac forced herself to try and focus. She had to clear her head and try to get a hold of what was happening to her.

Get a grip, Marine, she told herself. Got to be strong. Focus! She commanded her sluggish mind. Another image came to her mind. Of another time when she was bound and gagged. When Coster had taken her hostage. The man had stalked her for weeks – making her think for a time that it was Dalton stalking her. He’d taken her down into a basement that had been plastered with pictures of her. And then he’d forced vodka down her throat. It was then that Harm had come charging in like hell on wheels. Saving her from the maniacal Coster. Mac tried to lift her head but she couldn’t seem to find the strength. It dropped back between her upraised arms, sending a fissure of pain down between her shoulder blades. Focus, Mac! Think about Harm. Focus and gather your strength.

Another old memory rolled in. Their last trip to Russia. The days spent on the run with the gypsies. The vision of angels laughing with them. Five angels with Mac’s eyes and both of their brown hair.

Mac chalked up the young woman’s vision to imagination more than anything. She didn’t have that kind of relationship with Harm. Or did she? Memories began to roll like images on a movie screen. Of Harm tracking the man who murdered Diane, a woman he’d been deeply in love with before Mac came along.

She’d wanted to go with him but he’d tricked her into getting out of the car and instead she was left behind in the pouring rain – soaked and madder than hell at him. By the time she caught up with him…

…she was dressed in a Navy uniform instead of her standard issue green. She walked out of the fog just like a vision from his past. The ensuing struggle between Harm and Holbarth resulted in the man going over the side and pulled under by the ship.

When Harm looked up to Mac, he was transported for an instant and it was Diane standing there before him. But it wasn’t Diane that he took in his arms and kissed. It was his partner and best friend. And that single kiss had stayed with him since then. Just like the near kiss when they were in Columbia with Webb when Mac mentioned the effect dress whites and gold wings had on a woman. She’d come within an inch of kissing him before she realized what she was doing and pulled away. Harm had felt an acute sense of disappointment.

Webb wasn’t at all uncomfortable with silent moments but this particular silent moment wasn’t a welcome one. He was a man unaccustomed to apologizing for anything he did. When he had a mission to do, it was for the greater good of the nation’s security and that meant doing things that weren’t always right or good. It meant setting up good people like Harm and Mac who’d saved his butt more than once. All though, he’d managed to save theirs a few times.

He knew things had gone too far this time, though, even for him. If anything happened to Sarah…well, he would shoot himself and save the other two men the trouble. Not that I would ever admit as much to them, he hastened to add to himself. The last time he’d worked with them was when he’d been forced to fake his own death. What they have never seemed to understand is that Clayton Webb had a job to do. A job that demanded a very high price. A job that meant he had to make decisions without showing or feeling any emotion – especially toward those he had any inkling of feeling for. He has a job he does very well – even though it makes him one of the most unliked people around. Webb sighed deeply, quietly.

A memory came to him of the first time he worked with Harm and Mac in Columbia. Webb had been taken hostage and when they arrived to rescue him he demanded to know what they were doing there.

Webb hoped they’d all developed some miniscule bit of friendship after all this time but it may be only a pipe dream on his part. No matter what, he would do his best to help Harm and A.J. get Mac home safe and sound.

"I arranged for everything we’ll need once we get to Moscow," Webb spoke quietly, breaking the silence in the cabin.

Neither of the other men looked at him. Or spoke. Webb sighed again and leaned his back against the wall.

Admiral Chegwidden was lost in his own thoughts as well. He was deeply concerned about Mac. And about the unknown situation they were going into. He knew Webb would do what needed to be done. The man was a snake but he usually came through in the end and A.J. was counting on him to do so this time. There had been plenty of other times and no matter how he sacrificed them in the process, he always stopped just short of something really happening to any of them.

A.J. knew the special agent only did what he had to do. As a SEAL, he was well aware that sometimes you had to make decisions you didn’t want to.

Robert E. Lee made that statement so many years ago when the nation was fighting for itself and her people. And a truer statement was never made. The men in charge were never there to make friends. They were there to do a job and do it the best way they saw fit. That’s why Webb was a spy. And why Rabb and MacKenzie were not. A ghost of a smile twirled around the corners of A.J.’s hard mouth. Oftentimes, they thought he was unbending and hard but he had to always do what was best for them as whole. It was seldom personal except for when it involved one of them or Bud and Harriet. For a man mostly alone with no one to spend time with, this little group of officers had become his family.

The closest thing he would probably ever have to one. But back to the present, Webb always tried to make amends. When Mac and Harm were lost in the pit of Mother Russia trying to find Harm’s MIA father, Webb was ultimately the one that helped A.J. bring them out. But, as much as A.J. understood why the younger man did what he did, AJ. would tear him to little pieces if Mac were killed.

The nausea was what jerked Mac from the world of darkness she was in. Her stomach rolled into such a cramp she feared it would simply split open from the pain. Leaning her head as far forward as she could, she vomited until there was nothing left but dry heaves. Colors danced behind her tightly closed lids beneath the blindfold. She moaned piteously.

"Dad? Where… are you, Dad? I can’t… see…"

"Dalton?" She was so confused. Dalton was dead. He couldn’t’ be talking to her. Chills shook her slender form and her stomach knotted up again. Her limbs shook so badly that the ropes dug into her skin even more.

"I see you’re awake again, Major. Tell me, how are you feeling?"

The unexpected voice divided her confusion. Mac tried hard to focus on the voice. It was the man with the suffocating cologne again. The one who kept giving her the injections. She tried to lift her head to see his face. An instant later a hand grabbed the hair at the back of her head and jerked her face up. In the darkness she couldn’t see his face but his warm breath touched her face and the scent of his cologne threatened to choke her. He held her head tightly with the one hand and trailed the fingers of his other hand over her cheek. Mac tried to jerk away from his touch but he held tight to her.

"I can see why my brother was so taken with you, Sarah. May I call you that? It is a very beautiful name. I apologize, Sarah. I am getting off of my track. I can see how your beauty captivated him, but my overconfident younger brother was on a fool’s mission. You see, I know about the relationship between you and your partner. That makes it all the easier for my plan to work. For weeks I have watched and waited. Learning about you and Commander Rabb. Learning that you deny your feelings. Both of you.

Now perhaps you will never have the chance to explore them. My brother did not deserve to die like a pig gunned down by you and the Commander."

His words were low and melodic, his English very careful and precise. Mac tried to make sense of what he was saying. Who was his brother? Who had she and Harm killed and what did that have to do with how they felt about each other? She tried again to shrink away from his grasp. He laughed softly and slipped the hand that was touching her face around her body, drawing her naked form up against him.

"I am sorry that I do not have the time to show what it is like to be treated special, Major. I am unfortunate not to have that luxury. I am certain that as soon as I notify Commander Rabb of my terms, he will be here as soon as he is able. I sent him a small gift to show that I am not an unfair man. To reassure him that you were still alive. For now."

The man released Mac and stepped back again. A second later she felt the needle again in the crook of her elbow and blackness drew its comforting arms around her.

Bud nearly jumped a foot when he heard a knock on his door. He hurried across the room and reached for the knob. "Who is it?" he called.

"The Cavalry."

Bud’s knees nearly buckled with relief when he heard Commander’s Rabb’s voice. He jerked open the door and stepped aside to let them in.

"Lt., how you holding up, son?" A.J. asked.

"Fine, Admiral, sir," Bud answered.

"Have you heard anything at all?" Harm asked.

"No, sir. I haven’t talked to anyone except Harriet since I spoke with you yesterday," Bud returned.

"Have you been in Major McKenzie’s room since you found her missing?" A.J. questioned.

"No, sir. I requested that her room be left alone. I assumed you would want to take a look at it before anything was removed or cleaned," Bud explained.

"You did good, Bud," Harm praised.

"I got a second key from the hotel manager. Here, sir," Bud dug the card out of his pocket and handed it to Harm.

Without another word, Harm went back out in the hall and into Mac’s room. He paused inside the door, away that the other three men had come up behind him. Except for the messy bed, there was very little to show that anyone had been in the room. Harm walked the rest of the way inside and went over to the dresser. Mac’s purse was sitting there, undisturbed. Turning slowly, he walked across the suite to the bathroom and adjoining sitting room. There he found her suitcase sitting open on the provided rack – her clothes still neatly folded inside. Next to that was a clothing rod where the garment bag holding her dress uniform and her standard issue green waited for use.

A.J., Webb and Bud watched Harm make his rounds. There was a palpable air of pain radiating from him. His anger and frustration over being entirely too helpless. All though he hid it well. The other three men just knew him well enough to recognize it. They kept silent, knowing there really wasn’t anything else they could say.

Harm went into the bathroom. The clothes Mac had worm when she flew out of Washington were lying on the counter. Harm hesitantly touched the red blouse. A vision of her standing before him wearing it flashed before his eyes. He could still smell the heady scent of her perfume in the air. The bath towel she’d used hung over the towel rod, the bottle of bubble bath on the edge of the tub and next to it a half-eaten package of Russian chocolate truffles. Harm studied the chocolates for a moment. Stepping forward, he scooped up the small treat. He turned and went back out to the others. Before he said anything he looked around and found the basket with the other goodies sitting on the dresser.

"Bud? Did you get one of these?"

Bud frowned slightly. "No, sir."

Harm looked at Webb. "Can you get this tested?" he asked, holding out what Mac hadn’t eaten.

Webb nodded and took it from the taller man. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number. "2246," he stated by way of greeting. "Yes. Room 1410. I’ll leave it on the dresser with the instructions." He broke the connection and took a step toward the door. "I’ll be right back."

"What are you thinking, Commander Rabb?" A.J. asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I think she was drugged. I can’t come up with any other explanation for them getting her out of bed. This is Mac we’re talking about. A Marine. It’s just not likely that someone could sneak in here and take her while she slept. Besides, as nervous as she was about coming here in the first place, I doubt she would have gotten much sleep," Harm explained.

"So you think maybe she was eating the chocolates and taking her bath passed out?" Bud asked.

"No, I think whatever was in the truffles made her tired enough to go to bed. She was in her nightgown in the box we got," Harm returned.

"What box?" Bud asked.

"Harriet didn’t tell you?" Harm asked.

"No, sir. We didn’t talk about this on the phone in case the room was bugged. What picture?" Bud asked again.

"A box arrived at JAG after you called. It had a note telling us they had Mac and a picture of her," Harm didn’t elaborate on what she looked like in the picture. "Her nightgown was in the box ripped to shreds."

Bud looked slightly green but he swallowed hard and drew himself up straighter. "You’ll find her, Commander. I’m sure of it," he stated flatly.

"Lt. Roberts, I think it would be better if you went on back to D.C., son. We may need your help if things get sticky here," A.J. announced.

"Yes, sir, Admiral," Bud returned. "I’ll make the arrangements immediately."

"What arrangements?" Webb asked, walking back into the room.

"For Bud to go back to D.C.," Harm answered.

"Good idea," Webb answered.

The three men were sitting around watching time tick by as they waited for some word from Webb’s man. Harm stood at the window, his arms crossed over his chest, staring unseeingly at the Kremlin. The Admiral was flipping disinterestedly through a magazine and Webb was pacing the floor. Bud had long ago been whisked away to the airport. They all jerked around to attention when a knock sounded at the door. Webb went to answer it. On the other side stood a short, wiry man with a balding pate and dark, alert eyes. Webb stepped back and the man came inside.

"Did you get everything?" Webb asked him?

"I did. The chocolates were laced with morphine. A high enough dose to make sure she was firmly knocked out. Sholoff came through with a possible location. Here, let me show you…."

Harm, A.J. and Webb moved stealthily throw the dense forest. The man who’d come to them at the hotel room had dropped them off five miles north, leaving them to move in the rest of the way on foot. Dressed all in black with their faces painted and heads covered, the three men were virtually unnoticeable in the dark of night. Several feet more and the clearing that housed the old, rotted cabin came into their sight. They looked at each other and then back at the cabin.

Harm signaled with his hand for A.J. and Web to proceed. The two men nodded and began a steady trek through the edge of the trees to surround the cabin. Harm checked his gun once more as a precaution and carefully stepped into the clearing. There was no sign of movement from around the cabin or inside. There was just an empty stillness – even in the surrounding trees. There was no movement from animals or nocturnal creatures. Even the moon and stars seem to be in hiding under the clouds that scuttled in.

Harm quickly moved across the small clearing and came up against the side of the cabin. Very, very carefully he moved to the door. Listening for a moment, he gripped the knob and turned it, his gun poised and lifted for whatever he might find on the other side. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he pushed inward.

"They know where we’ve taken her."

"What?" What are you talking about?"

The young operative facing Commander Anton Prokov swallowed hard. He was supposed to prevent the three Americans from learning anything about the plan before the Commander contacted them.

"Special Agent Webb is with them. His men have been working on the details since before they Americans arrived here in Moscow."

"When did they arrive, Agent Yulin? Why wasn’t I notified of this little… development?" Commander Prokov demanded in a low, menacing voice.

"I was just notified of it myself, sir. I have no excuse, Commander. My men… I take full responsibility for their actions. But, sir, there is talk that Viper is involved. I was told that he gave the information to the American men," Agent Yulin explained hurriedly.

That got Prokov’s attention. He lifted one eyebrow and rocked back slightly on his heels.

Hearing the code name of one of the most illustrious free agents was enough to get anyone’s attention. If Viper had indeed passed along the information Agent Webb desired, then it would be correct information.

"Can you confirm any of this?" he asked the young agent across from him.

"No, sir. Would you like to me to send my men to the site?"

"We will go. Hurry, Agent Yulin. We have no time to waste or all our planning will be for nothing and Agent?"

The young man turned to look back at the Commander. "Sir?"

"I will have my revenge for my brother. At any cost. Do you understand?"

Agent Yulin got the meaning loud and clear. He drew himself up straight. "Yes, sir. Understood."

Agent Yulin strode quickly outside of the Russian mansion to where a group of men lounged in the driveway against several foreign luxury cars. In their native Russian, he called them to attention and snapped out their orders. Within minutes, Commander Prokov was in the back of the first car with Agent Yulin and they were on their way to the cabin in the woods where Major MacKenzie was being held.

Only darkness greeted Harm as he stepped into the cabin. The smell of rotting wood and decay had him wrinkling his nose in disgust. His gaze behind the night vision goggles swept the entire room.

There was nothing inside. Not even any broken down pieces of left behind furniture. And there was no sign of Mac. Harm stepped cautiously into the room. Again his gaze swept the room. Looking for anything that might tell him this was where they were holding her. There was only a door on the far side that he assumed led outside. Making his way along the wall, he started feeling for anything that might reveal a hidden passage. About halfway across the room, his booted foot came in contact with an uneven patch in the floor. Stepping back, he stepped forward again, testing the spot. The rotted flooring felt different right in that spot. He moved a few steps to the left and then the right. Only that one section seemed out of place with the rest of the floor. Harm dropped carefully to his knees and pulled a tiny penlight out of one of his cammie pockets.

Shining it on the section of flooring, he ran his gloved fingers over the floor, clearing away the dirt and grime there.

Mac heard the scraping sounds from above. They must be back. The men… she shook her head slightly. She was so tired. Wake up, Mac! She ordered herself. The man had been to see her twice since she’d awakened the first time and both times he’d given her the drugs that knocked her out. Her body was so numb now that she couldn’t even feel the shivers coursing through her limbs. It was getting harder to think. She heard the scrape again. It was different this time. Almost as if someone were scratching against the floor. She thought briefly of a wolf. Maybe it had somehow caught the scent of her blood and come to investigate. Her head rolled backward, sending shards of agony down between her shoulder blades. Helplessly it rolled forward again, pain exploding behind her closed eyes. Why didn’t he just kill her and get it over with? Harm would never be able to find her. How would he even know where to look?

Harm finally realized what he was looking at was some kind of trap door. In another pocket, he pulled out a small switchblade. Inserting the blade under one side, he carefully pried the edge up far enough to get his fingers beneath it. He lifted it completely away and leaned it against the wall at his side. He couldn’t see a thing below. Not even with the goggles. Drawing in a deep breath, he shined the penlight into the hole. There was nothing but a dirt floor. Tipping forward, he quickly swung his arm through the opening. Nothing happened. Cautiously, he twisted around so his feet pointed at the hole and shimmied backward until he could lower himself down. The muscles in his upper body bunched hard as he steadied himself with one hand and aimed his gun with the other, ready for an ambush. Again there was nothing but silence and darkness.

Mac heard her latest visitor drop to the ground. Someone different had come. There was no cloying men’s cologne this time. There was nothing but silence. Surely she hadn’t imagined that someone was there. But she was so tired. And there was so much pain. She couldn’t be sure of anything.

Harm stood for a moment to get his bearings. Slowly, he turned his head to scan the room he was in. It didn’t appear to actually be a room but more like a root cellar. The walls were dirt with only a few wooden beams holding up the floor over his head. Slowly, he pivoted, taking in the rest of the room. Then his gaze fell on Mac and his knees threatened to buckle. Swiftly he crossed the floor to stand in front of her.

The man was standing right in front of her now. He was close enough for her to feel his warmth and hear his sharp indrawn breath. Who was here? Who was doing this to her? Mac tried to move her body back away from him.

Harm stuffed the penlight into a pocket, holstered his gun and whipped off the night vision goggles, dropping them at the feet. "Mac? Oh, God… Mac, can you hear me?"

I must be dying, she thought. Harm is calling me. But he couldn’t be here. He doesn’t know where I am.

"Mac, can you hear me? Sarah? Answer me, damn it."

Harm tenderly slid his hands around her head and tugged off the blindfold. Reverently, he ran his fingers over her face and through her sweat-soaked hair. Emotions threatened to choke him as a feeling unlike anything he’d ever known coursed through him.

"Oh my God, Mac. You’re alive. I thought…" his voice trailed off in a painful whisper. "I thought I wouldn’t make it in time. I thought…"

He stopped speaking and dropped his head forward close to hers, his warm breath brushing past her ear. It was then that Mac realized she wasn’t passing through Heaven but really and truly had been found by her beloved partner. His heart was pounding furiously against her breasts and his big hands clenched reflexively in her hair.

"You… you found… me," she choked out.

A strangled chuckle escaped his tight throat. "Of course I found you. I’m not ready to break in a new partner yet," he murmured. "Oh, Mac, what have they done to you?" he whispered.

Slowly he stepped back a little. Mac felt his warmth move away. A second later his big warm hands were moving over her body. Down the length of her up-stretched arms, down her sides and down her legs, checking for broken bones. He used his penlight to check her injuries. His gut felt like someone was ripping barbwire through it when he saw the bruises, the cuts. Blood streaked down her arms and legs from where the ropes that bound her dug into her tender flesh. He stepped close again and touched her face.

"Have you been tied like this the whole time?" Anger stronger than anything he’d ever known welled anew. They’d strung her up on a hook like a side of meat instead of a human being.

Mac managed a slight nod.

"I’m going to cut you loose. I know it’s going to hurt like hell but we’ll do this together okay?" he stated tenderly.

Mac nodded again, thinking she’d never heard anything as wonderful as his deep voice. A second later she felt the cool metal of a knife slide beneath the ropes holding her ankles together above the dirt floor.

They fell away with one quick slice and her legs dropped slightly apart, pain exploding through them. He cut the bonds at her wrists next and she collapsed into his arms, a low anguished moan rising from her. The horrible excruciating pain blanketed her body and then blackness drew her down again. Harm felt Mac go limp in his arms and knew she’d passed out. Carefully, he lowered her to the floor, balancing her on one upraised knee. From another pocket, he pulled out a small, tightly wrapped blanket and unfurled it. Standard issue to the military, the material would capture what little body heat Mac had and turn it back into her tenfold. He lowered her to the blanket and picked up one of her slender arms. He checked once more to make sure none of her bones were broken before he started briskly rubbing her chilled skin, getting the blood flowing back into the limb. After a few minutes he moved to her other arm.

Mac’s consciousness returned with a vengeance as her arms and legs started to wake up. Harm reached for one of her legs, drawing it up across his bent knee as he kneaded the muscles in her thigh and calf and then her foot. His broad palms were blissfully warm but it didn’t erase the pain rocketing through her. Another low, keening moan welled up. The hours and hours of being tied and unable to move had cramped her limbs so badly they felt like they’d never be right again.

Harm knew he was hurting her but there was nothing he could do to help it. He worked as fast as possible until he was satisfied that he had her blood pumping and then he wrapped the sides of the blanket around her and pulled her up into his arms. He was grateful for the darkness that hid her near nudity. Mac’s head lolled against his chest, her breathing labored. Harm allowed himself just a moment to hold her. So many feelings rumbled through his mind that he couldn’t sort them out. But mainly he was just thanking God she was alive and that he’d found her in time. And speaking of time, it was in short supply for them right now.

"I have to get you out of here," he murmured.

"Can’t… walk," she mumbled. "Hurts… so much."

"I know, baby. I’ll carry you."

He called her baby… it sounded so wonderful. "I’ll just slow… down," she kept mumbling, her sentences more and more disjointed.

"We’ve moved Heaven and Hell to find you, Mac. There’s no way I’m going to leave you now. We’re leaving here together or we don’t leave at all," Harm stated fervently.

He stroked one trembling hand over her hair. She was burning up with fever. But chills shook her slender form.

"We?" Mac whispered.

"The Admiral and Webb are with me. They’re outside. We need to move, Mac. I know you’re in a lot of pain, baby, but you have to keep quiet, okay? You know I’ll do my best not to hurt you."

There was the baby again. "’kay. No pain," she mumbled. "No pain."

"Harm? Are you down there?"

Harm could have wept with relief when he heard Webb’s voice in the opening above them. "Yeah. I found her," he called back.

Overhead, Webb felt the greatest relief he’d ever known. He rocked back on his heels slightly, his hands tightening into fists against his thighs. "He got Mac," he called to the Admiral.

A.J. went over and knelt down next to the trapdoor opening. "Harm? How is she?" he called down into the hole.

"Not good, sir. We need to get out of here now," Harm called back. "I’m going to lift you up to the Admiral, Mac. Hang on just a little longer, Sarah. Just a little longer," he repeated soothingly.

Shifting, he reached out and found his night vision goggles. Catching them with one finger, he slipped one arm beneath her knees and rose to his feet, cradling her to his chest. A few steps brought him beneath the opening in the rotted floor above.

"I’m going to lift her up to you," Harm told A.J. "She can’t stand on her own so be careful," he called in warning.

Harm lowered her feet to the floor, dropped the goggles and grasped her at the waist. With the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunching with the effort, he lifted her up. A.J. caught Mac under the arms and pulled her clear of the hole, bringing her close in his strong arms. He moved back from the hole and Webb leaned forward to Harm.

"Jump up and grab my arm," he ordered.

Harm picked up his goggles again. Bending his knees slightly, he propelled himself up and caught the arm Webb held out. With his aid, Harm pulled himself up out of the hole. He tugged his goggles back on and then bending, he slid his arms around Mac and lifted her from the Admiral’s grasp.

"Let’s go," he stated.

They trooped stealthily outside into the cool darkness, moving away from the cabin. The night sky was still shrouded with clouds, making it difficult for them to find their path. Suddenly, out of nowhere headlights from several cars landed on them.

"It must be Prokov!" Webb yelled. "Go! Go! Go!"

The small group started running hell bent for leather, separating to make it harder for Prokov and his men to follow them. Harm could hear the crash of the Russians but wasn’t able to hear Webb and A.J. and he knew they were heading in the opposite direction from where he was going with Mac. No matter, they would all head for their rendezvous point with Webb’s man.

"Hold on, Mac," Harm called just loud enough for her to hear him.

He paused just for a split second and lifted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. As much as he knew it would hurt her to be carried this way, he needed every advantage he could get.

He needed the hand that held his gun free. He started running again, drawing his weapon. Several shots rang out and he felt a stinging sensation on his right cheek. He turned and saw two figures running toward them. He fired several shots in that direction. There was a strangled cry from one as they both went down. More shots came his way and he felt a stabbing pain in his right side. He automatically fired several more rounds and then turned kept going.

He wasn’t sure how far they went before it finally sank in that the Russians were no longer behind them. Harm stopped for a moment to get his bearings. He listened hard to the surrounding night, trying to quiet his own breathing. He could hear nothing. Carefully, he eased Mac down from his shoulder and held her against his chest with one arm, his gun in the other. He could feel blood running down his side beneath his shirt. Without light, he couldn’t be sure how deep the bullet had gone in but he felt like it may have nicked a rib.

"Mac? "

There was no answer, just the labored sound of her every breath. Harm gingerly lowered himself to the ground and leaned back against the tree. He held her securely against him, his arm tightening reflexively. Tipping his head forward, he pressed his cheek to her forehead. She was burning up with fever. He needed to get them both to the pick up point. Holding her steady, he rose to his feet again.

Again, he bent and careful lifted her over his shoulder. He hated to have to carry her this way but it was easier for him to move. It was best that she was unconscious again. It was certainly easier. Easier for her not to feel the pain and easier for him not to be tormented by her cries.

Taking several deep, slow breaths, Harm marshaled all of his strength. This was far from over. He dug a compass out of his pocket and held it up. They were headed North and the pickup was West. Tightening his arm around Mac’s slender legs, he started off in the right direction, hoping it would get him back to where their ride would be waiting.

A.J. and Webb split way from Harm and Mac as the cars carrying Prokov and his goons screeched to a halt. Gunfire erupted immediately. A.J. turned and fired. A man went down and their were shouts and cars doors jerked open for cover. He lost sight of Harm and Mac but he knew Harm would head for the pickup. It was more important that he get Mac out of there. Webb was off to his left firing at the group of Russians.

Several more men went down and a bullet caught A.J. in the arm, sending him staggering backward a few steps. He fired in the direction of the cars again, cursing the headlights that were directly in his face. He and Webb ran around the corner of the building, seeking a bit of cover.

"Are you hit?" Webb asked, breathing hard.

"It’s a scratch. You ready to leave this party?" A.J. asked.

"Definitely. It’s past my bedtime," Webb quipped.

Webb could hear Prokov yelling orders in Russian to his men. They were starting to spread out to search for them. Taking a deep breath, he checked the clip in his gun and looked at the Admiral.

"Ready?"

"Let’s go, Mr. Webb."

Darting back around the house, the two men used the trees for as much coverage as possible and broke into a run. They fired at the other men, ducking and twisting through the trees to avoid the return gunfire. There was no looking back now. They just ran full tilt toward their pickup point.

ground in front of him, forcing himself to keep going. For such a little thing, Mac’s dead weight grew heavier and heavier with each mile. They were so close there was no way he could stop to rest now. He was afraid if he did he’d never get back up again. He lifted his free arm and swiped at the blood on his cheek. The pain in his side was almost unbearable and he was so tired he could barely catch his breath. He kept going, weaving slightly. He wasn’t sure but it looked like there was a clearing ahead several feet. He held onto Mac with both hands now, trying to keep her from shifting around too much.

Keep going, Harm. Left, right, left, right. Only a little further.

There was definitely a clearing up ahead. He slowed his steps and kept close to the trees. A few more feet and he could make out the silhouette of two bodies. He lifted his right hand and cocked his gun, not sure if they were friend or foe.

A.J. heard the small snap of a twig and swung around to the woods at his left, bringing his gun up. Webb turned to see what had caught the Admiral’s attention.

"What is it?" he whispered.

A.J. held up a hand to motion for his silence. A second later Webb saw why. A large, uneven shape was coming toward them from the barrier of the trees. Webb lifted his gun, too, waiting for it to be one of Prokov’s men. A second later, A.J. let his arm drop as he rushed forward.

"Commander!"

Harm stepped to the edge of the clearing, so relieved when he heard the Admiral’s voice that he could have cried. Thank God they had been going the right way. He started to say something in greeting but his knees buckled and he stumbled forward. Harm held tight to Mac as he came down hard on his knees so she wouldn’t fall. A.J. caught him by the shoulder just before he could pitch forward on his face.

"Webb, get over here," A.J. called.

Webb stepped up and carefully got a hold of the unconscious Mac, lifting her away from Harm and up into his grasp. Admiral Chegwidden moved up to that same side where Mac had been and drew the younger man’s arm up over his shoulder, supporting his weight. Harm staggered on his feet, feeling the Admiral’s arms holding him upright.

"Are you hit, Rabb?" The Admiral demanded.

Harm nodded jerkily. "Think… think it hit… a rib," he gasped, fighting for every breath.

They lurched forward and the headlights of a car Harm hadn’t even noticed came on. A.J. guided Harm into the back seat as Webb started to get in the front with Mac.

"Wait," Harm interrupted. "Give her… to…me," his words were slurred with pain and exhaustion.

Webb and A.J. exchanged a glance. Harm was insistent. He drew in a deep breath and glared at Webb. "Give her to me," he enunciated very slowly and clearly.

Webb sighed and nodded. Harm sat down in the back seat and Webb carefully slipped Mac inside into his lap.

Harm cradled her close, checking to make sure the edges of the blanket were still securely wrapped around her. Then he drew her closer still and rested his cheek against the top of her head. The pain in his side was almost unbearable. More than anything he just wanted to get back home with Mac. That was his last thought before he passed out bent over her.

"They’re both unconscious," A.J. told Webb.

"Is Rabb hit?" Webb asked, turning to look over the seat.

A.J. nodded. "I can’t tell how bad it is. I need something to use for bandages. Do we have any water?"

Webb looked at the man driving the car. He nodded and pulled over on the side of the road. Without a word he got out and went to the trunk. He came back a second later and handed Webb a jug of water and an old blanket.

"Is all I have," he told them apologetically.

"It’ll do," Webb answered.

He handed the stuff back to A.J. and then turned his attention back to the road. The Admiral would handle his two officers without any help from him.

A.J. ripped the tattered old blanket into long narrow strips. Saving one small piece, he wet it down and rested it on his bent knee. Drawing a deep breath, he partially slid the thermal blanket away from Mac. Ignoring her almost nude form, he lifted her feet up into lap and set about cleaning the blood from her ankles. He couldn’t see much of anything in the dark but it didn’t appear that the rope burns were deep enough to expose the bone. He wound several of the long strips around her ankles and tied them off so they’d hold. It would at least keep them covered until they could get her to a hospital. He did the same with her wrists and then pulled the blanket securely around her again.

Pulling his flashlight out, he shown it over the Commander. Blood didn’t show up on black cammies. Carefully, A.J. started at Harm’s free shoulder, the one closest to him and searched for an injury. When he reached the wet stickiness near the younger man’s side, he knew he’d found it. Under the light, his fingers glowed red with blood. Anchoring the penlight in his teeth, A.J. lifted Harm’s shirt. Blood leaked steadily from the small hole, it’s edges ragged and curled back. There was blood everywhere. Quickly, A.J. cleaned the bullet wound the best he could and placed a small square of the blanket material over it, pressing down firmly. He wound several of the longer strips around Harm’s midriff to hold it in place, tying them off the way he had Mac’s.

"They’re in bad shape. We need to hurry," A.J. stated grimly to Webb.

The nondescript sedan rolled to a stop a safe distance from the tracks. Crowds of immigrants and Russian peasants were gathered, waiting to board. This would be a way out for the four Americans. From the trunk, A.J. and Webb pulled out several items of clothing that would go over their own clothes and help them blend in to the crowd. Working together, the two men covered Mac and Harm in similar fashion. During the ride to their present location, A.J. and Webb has scrubbed the black paint off their faces and off of Harm’s, who drifted in and out of consciousness.

"You must waste no time," Webb’s associated stated in a low voice. "Prokov and his men, they will be looking. You must get on train and stay away from sight," he continued, his English slightly stilted.

"No sweat," Webb muttered. He looked up at A.J. "You ready, Admiral?"

A.J. nodded. "Hoo-yah, Agent Webb. Hoo-yah!" A.J. exclaimed softly.

Webb ducked inside the car and gathered up Mac. The robe they’d dressed her in hid her face and hair and they would just have to hope no one would bother paying attention to him carrying her.

A.J. lightly slapped Harm’s cheek, getting his attention. "Come on, Commander. I need your cooperation here. Wake up."

Harm raised his head, blinking owlishly at the Admiral. "Where are we?" he asked weakly.

"At a train yard. This is the only way we’re going to get out of this God forsaken place, Commander Rabb. Now, on your feet, son. That’s an order!"

"All right, all right," Harm groused.

A.J. knew he was in a lot of pain but he needed to try and walk in beside them under his own steam. It would look too suspicious if they had to drag Harm in along with Mac. Even though the majority of the people here were lower class and/or gypsies and peasants, there were still guards on duty.

The agent that had provided them with Mac’s whereabouts had also given the location of the shipping cars and one in particular where they would find food and additional ammunition for the rest of the trip. Once they got into Germany, they would be in NATO territory and able to get further help.

Harm slowly maneuvered his long length out of the rear of the sedan and stood, holding tight to the arm the Admiral had extended to him. His legs were shaking badly and his head was fuzzy.

He’d lost a lot of blood but he remembered the Admiral cleaning him up a bit in the car. He swayed for an instant and the Admiral’s other hand shot out to steady him.

"’S okay," he mumbled. "Let’s go."

The small, bedraggled group started out across a field. Within minutes they were blending into the crowd of people. The cover of darkness helped and with the shirts and hats they wore, they had a better chance of not receiving more than a passing glance.

Moving as quickly as possible, they identified the right train car by its markings. A.J. glanced around to see how many people were looking in their direction and slipped beneath the car to the opposite side, away from prying eyes. He managed to get the door pushed back then went back to join the others. A few minutes later they were all inside the dark cargo bay.

Flashlight in hand, A.J. found the bundle left for them and picked it up. Leaning back against the nearest wall, Harm slid down to the floor, his head lolling forward.

"Harm," Webb called softly. "Here."

Harm lifted his head and Webb gently settled Mac down on his lap, easing her head against Harm’s shoulder. Even though there wasn’t anything Harm could do for her, Webb needed both of his hands free to help the Admiral in case there was trouble.

But additional trouble never came. The boxcar where they were hiding was never checked during the long hours it took for them to get to Germany. A.J. forced Harm to eat an apple from among the supplies left by the man Webb knew. Mac was still unconscious, her fever raging. When the train reached it’s destination in Berlin, A.J. and Webb gathered up Mac and Harm and hurried them out of the car and off into the trees next to the station yard. Webb and A.J. had taken turns getting a little sleep during the ten-hour train ride. They were still a long way from Ramstein AFB and now had to figure out a way to travel the last stretch of this journey. Exhaustion was wearing them down. They’d allowed Harm to sleep during the ride and he seemed a little more alert now. Webb had tried to take Mac but Harm refused, lifting her up into his arms.

"Where do we go from here, Webb?" The Admiral asked once they got to a safe distance in the trees.

The late afternoon sun beat down on their heads through the treetops. It was almost three and there was a lot of activity at the train yard so they had to keep moving.

"We walk for now. There’s a home…" Webb’s voice trailed off as he dug in the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small map. "A house where someone will be waiting to help us. I have the coordinates here."

"How far, Mr. Webb?"

"About 10 miles."

A.J. sighed deeply and glanced over at Harm. "Commander, I’m giving you the choice here. Do we press on for the pickup or find shelter somewhere until it gets dark?"

Harm looked down at Mac’s flushed face. "She’s very sick. I don’t how much longer she can go like this," he murmured, his voice low and drawn.

"You don’t look so hot yourself, Commander. Can you go on?" A.J. asked.

Harm looked down into Mac’s face again. Her lovely features were battered, her bottom lip cut and swollen. Rage filled him at the thought of Prokov hurting her. But that was behind them now. His only thought was to get her home and safe.

"We have to keep going, Admiral. I’ll be fine," he stated firmly.

A.J. knew it would be pointless to argue with him. He would die himself trying to get her to safety. So they would keep going.

It took them a long time to travel the ten miles to the safe house. Harm could barely stand with Mac’s weight in his arms but he refused to relinquish her to A.J. or Webb. So instead they supported him from either side and trekked on. It was dark by the time they reached their destination. The house was nothing more than a cabin and it looked abandoned.

"This is where we’re supposed to get help, Agent Webb?" A.J. drawled sarcastically. "I don’t see any signs of help."

"He’s here. I trust… well, I don’t trust anyone but the three of you, but this man doesn’t go back on his word. If you knew who I was talking about you would understand."

"But they don’t know who you’re talking about, do they, Webb?"

Harm, A.J. and Webb turned to the sound of a new voice.

"Not unless you tell them," Webb answered easily.

"Glad to see you made it," The other man answered.

A.J. gave him a quick once over. He was about the same age as Webb and Harm but there was a hardness in and around his eyes that told far more about him. This man had seen his share of Hell.

"Gentlemen, my two best officers are gravely injured. I don’t have time for you to stand around playing nicey-nice. Do you have a way out of here for us or not?" he glared at the newcomer.

"Easy, Admiral Chegwidden. This way," the other man stated calmly, turning to walk away.

The man’s cavalier attitude rankled the Admiral but he was too worried about Harm and Mac to pay anymore attention. An SUV was parked under a stand of trees behind the cabin.

The unknown agent opened the back door for Harm and he climbed inside with Mac still cradled in his arms. A.J. got in on the other side and Webb got into the front next to his associate. They started out, staying mostly on a path that seemed to appear out of nowhere in the trees.

"Where is he taking us, Webb?" A.J. called.

"To a plane so we can get the hell out of this place," Webb stated flatly.

"How are you holding up, son?" A.J. murmured to Harm.

"Tired... side hurts," Harm muttered distantly.

"I know, Commander. We’re our way. Hold on just a little longer."

"S’kay… just get…Mac…"

There was nothing further as Harm slumped forward over Mac’s body, unconscious. A.J. checked for a pulse against the side of his neck and found it to be weak and thready. His skin was hot and dry but his hair and clothing were soaked with sweat. Turning his penlight on, A.J. lifted Harm’s shirt. The makeshift bandages soaked through with blood. He checked Mac next and found her pulse to be barely beating.

"We have to hurry. I don’t know how much longer these two can hold on," he ordered roughly.

"It’s not far," Their driver told him.

Within thirty minutes they were pulling into a small clearing where a helicopter waited. Webb took Mac from Harm and headed for the helicopter with her. A.J. pulled Harm forward, bent beneath him and stood, throwing the younger man up over his shoulder. He, too, started for the chopper. A second later they were airborne.

"One more stop to make at Ramstein and we’ll be on our way home," Webb told A.J.

"We better be, Mr. Webb. We better be."

"Admiral! Sir, we got here as soon as we could. Is there any news?"

Admiral Chegwidden looked up as Harriet and Bud came running into the waiting room. He shook his head solemnly. "Commander Rabb is still in surgery and Major MacKenzie is in a coma.

"Oh, no," Harriet whispered, leaning against Bud. "Are they going to be all right, Admiral?"

A.J. sighed deeply. "I don’t know, Lt., I don’t know."

"Can you tell us what happened, sir?" Bud asked gently.

With a sigh, the Admiral related what had happened starting with Bud leaving for the States. He told them of some man who’d gotten Webb the location of where Mac was being held. Of how they’d been caught trying to get her out and the ensuing gunfight. Of being separated. What he didn’t say was how hard it had been for him to stay at the rendezvous point and wait. Wait with no idea if Harm had gotten away with Mac or if they both had been captured. Or killed. He didn’t tell them how grateful he’d been when Harm had stumbled into the clearing that his knees shook.

"Admiral? Sir, are you all right?"

Harriet’s soft voice broke into his thoughts. A.J. roused himself, realizing that he’d stopped talking. He met their concerned faces.

"Yes, Lt., I’m fine."

Harriet reached out and gently touched his arm, her touch reassuring. "I’m sure you did everything you could, Admiral. They’ll be all right. You’ll see," she murmured encouragingly.

"I pray you’re right, Harriet."

He finished telling them about the rest of the trip. The long train ride in a dark boxcar with only enough food and water to keep them going. Of Harm’s decision to walk to ten miles immediately because of Mac’s condition – when his own condition was so much worse. And finally of the man who’d been waiting to take them to the helicopter that would take them to Ramstein. Frustration had welled up in the Admiral over all the stops and changes. It seemed like they would never get out of Russia and home.

"Who was the last man that you met?" Bud asked, knowing it really didn’t matter but curious anyway. And it would keep the Admiral occupied instead of letting him stew with guilt.

"I don’t know. Someone Mr. Webb knows. He was American," A.J. answered thoughtfully.

"He’s an agent."

The three JAG officers looked up to see Webb approaching. He was still dressed the way the same as the Admiral, lines of fatigue etched around his eyes and unsmiling mouth. He sat down on the other side of the Admiral.

"A double agent?" Bud asked, his normally smiling face set with grim dislike for the man he was looking at.

"A free agent," Webb corrected. "He once worked for us but the men at the top abused their use of him. Now he works for whoever can afford him."

"And what was our price?" The Admiral asked.

"Nothing. He owed me a favor from a very long time ago. I didn’t think I’d ever have a reason to collect on it. Actually, I wasn’t sure he’d ever help me," Webb shrugged.

"You said at the chopper that he didn’t go back on his word," A.J. reminded him.

Webb nodded thoughtfully. "That’s true. He’s a lot of things but I’ve never known him to go back on his word. I’ve known him for many years. He’s one of the very best."

The Admiral snorted. "If you say so."

Webb chuckled softly. "Admiral, have you ever… well, I’m sure you have," Webb muttered almost to himself. "You ever heard of the Viper?"

"Webb, are you telling me that man…?" A.J. didn’t finish the sentence as he glared at Webb in surprise. There weren’t many people who hadn’t heard of the man.

Webb nodded. "I see that you have. He helped us more than you know. Without him I don’t know how things would’ve turned out," Webb stated honestly. "I have a lot of contacts but I don’t think anyone could have made things happen as fast as he did. He got me Mac’s location," he revealed.

"He didn’t look like…" A.J. started.

"Like you expected?" Webb asked. "Not too many people have ever see his real face. That works in his favor."

"How do you…" Bud started.

"No more questions," Lt.," A.J. stated firmly. "We don’t need to know anymore about the man. Webb, if you ever talk to him again, tell him…" A.J.’s voice trailed off for a second.

"Tell him how grateful we are for his help," Harriet jumped in.

"I will," Webb answered softly.

"Admiral Chegwidden?"

They all turned when they heard the Admiral’s name. A man in green surgical scrubs stood before them, drying his hands with several paper towels. They all stood to meet him.

"I’m Dr. Strait. Has Commander Rabb’s family been notified?" he asked.

"They’re out of the country," A.J. answered calmly. "We’re the closest thing he has. How is he?"

"He made it through the surgery without any complications. He’s lost a lot of blood, I’m afraid and his vitals are weak. The bullet did a lot of damage. Cracked one rib, nicked his lung and ended up lodged between two more ribs. It’s a miracle he isn’t dead. I don’t how what you’ve all been through but you’re abut the luckiest folks I’ve ever met. He’s holding his own now. If he remains stable throughout the night then I’d say we have a fair chance," Dr. Strait explained matter-of-factly.

Harriet leaned against Bud, clutching him tight." How’s the Major, sir?" Bud asked, his voice quivering just the slightest.

"As you’re already aware, she has multiple bruises and contusions. We’ve treated and dressed her wrists and ankles. We ran several tests on Major MacKenzie and found heavy traces of morphine in her blood. She’s dehydrated so I put her on a glucose drip and an O2 drip. She’s also starting to show signs of withdrawal so I’ve put her on an I.V. of Narcan. It will help detoxify her system and get her off the morphine. The morphine also explains most of her bruises – especially the handprint shaped ones. Drug induced comas are severe. Her condition is grave at this point. Her vitals are weak. We’re monitoring her closely for any change but I’m afraid it’s up to her and God now."

"There’s nothing you can do?" Webb demanded in disbelief.

"We’re doing all we can, Mr. Webb. We’ve got her on intravenous fluids and antibiotics but I’m afraid her system has taken a lot of abuse the past few days. Only time will tell. Now if you’ll excuse me, please, I have other patients to see to," he stated, turning.

"Can we see them?" Bud asked.

Commander Rabb is being moved to ICU along with Major MacKenzie. When we get them settled, I’ll send a nurse for you. It would really be better if you all went home and got some rest," The doctor ordered gently.

"None of us are leaving until we know both of them are going to be all right," the Admiral stated flatly, speaking for all of them.

"Very well. If you need anything just ask one of the nurses."

"Admiral, we’re going to go find some coffee. Can we bring you back a cup?" Harriet asked.

A.J. nodded. "I’d like that, Lt., thank you."

"Webb?" Bud directed at the other man.

"No, thank you."

have to go. They want me in a debriefing immediately."

"I thought they were going to deny all knowledge of this?" The corner of A.J.’s mouth quirked up in a grimace.

"Only if something happened to us," Webb shrugged. "You know how it goes, Admiral," he stated, rising to his feet.

"Yes, Mr. Webb. I know how it goes."

Webb started to walk away but hesitated and looked back at the Admiral.

"For what it’s worth, I really am sorry, Admiral."

"I’m not the one you need to be telling, Webb."

Webb nodded and then walked away.

A.J. watched the young agent make his way down the hall, his shoulders slumped under the weight of all the responsibility resting on him. Bud and Harriet came back a few minutes later and Harriet handed the Admiral a cup.

"Where did Webb go?" Bud asked.

"To be debriefed."

"I’m glad he’s gone," Bud muttered.

"Bud!" Harriet admonished.

"Sorry, sir," Bud apologized briefly.

"It’s all right, Lt."

"Harriet, Major MacKenzie was nearly killed because of him," Bud hissed to his wife.

"But he also saved her and the Commander," Harriet reminded gently. "Let’s call it a draw and concentrate on them getting better," she continued.

"Bud, Harriet, you two are good friends to the Major and Commander. Thank you," A.J. stated gently.

Usually a man of few words, the younger couple stared at him for a minute. "They’ve been good friends to us, sir. As have you. Harriet and I wouldn’t want to work anywhere else," Bud returned deeply.

As awkward as both could be at times, the two had hearts of gold. A.J. had come to look at the small foursome as family. It was unwise to form any kind of attachment to officers in one’s command but there was something different about this group. They’d all been through a lot together and they supported and stood up to him when know one else would. The same as he did for them. Outside of his SEAL team, they were by far the best he’d ever worked with.

"Admiral Chegwidden? Would the three of you like to see Commander Rabb and Major MacKenzie?" A young nurse asked, coming up to them.

The three came to their feet. "Yes, of course," A.J. answered.

She led them to the ICU unit and stopped outside of a door. "Dr. Strait said you can stay as long as you like. You might try talking to both of them," she advised gently. "Especially the Major. Sometimes it helps bring them around faster."

"Thank you," The Admiral murmured distractedly, pushing open the door.

The room was dark save for a single fluorescent light over Harm’s bed. They moved into the room, pulling chairs up to the bedside and sitting down. Various tubes and sensors were attached to his body, keeping track of his vitals signs for those who watched at the nurses’ station. Harriet was the first to lean forward in her chair. Reaching out, she smoothed one hand over Harm’s short dark hair and reached for his hand with the other one. She squeezed it gently and smiled.

"We’re here with you, Commander. We aren’t leaving until you and the Major both wake up and talk to us. Bud and I and the Admiral. We’ll wait as long as we have to," she murmured.

"But don’t make us wait forever, Commander Rabb," The Admiral interjected, leaning forward as well. There’s work piling up at JAG."

Bud and Harriet grinned at him from across the bed. Harriet looked at Bud then and then back at the Admiral. "Sir, may I go sit with the Major?"

"Certainly, Lt."

Harriet squeezed Harm’s hand once more then leaned closer and kissed his brow. "Come back to us, Commander.

Especially to the Major," she whispered in his ear so Bud and the Admiral wouldn’t hear. She walked to the door then turned and looked back at Bud and the Admiral. "Did anyone think to call Commander Parker?" she asked.

The other two men exchanged a look. "No, Lt. Sims and I think for the time being we need to keep all this between ourselves. Commander Rabb can phone Commander Parker when he’s awake and coherent."

Harriet nodded. "Yes, sir."

A minute later, the nurse was showing her the door to Mac’s room, two away from Harm’s. Harriet drew in a deep breath, smoothing her hands down over her maternity smock. The baby wasn’t the only one jumping around down there. A herd of cattle were helping him out. Hesitantly, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

There was only one light burning like in the Commander’s room. Not sure what to expect, Harriet slowly crossed the room to the bed. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp.

"Oh, Major…" she whispered, sitting down in the chair next to the bed and picking up Mac’s hand.

Harriet’s eyes swept over the familiar countenance. Bruises covered most of her lovely face, blackening both of her eyes and one corner of her mouth. Her bottom lip was split and puffy from the swelling. Her wrists were bandaged tightly and Harriet knew without looking that her ankles would be the same from the heavy rope bindings. Several IVs were attached to her arms and sensors for the monitors next to the bed were hooked to her fingers and chest. And there was an oxygen tube running under her nose. Harriet squeezed Mac’s hand tightly and leaned forward to touch her hair.

"Major, can you hear me? You have to come back to us, Major. Please. We…" Harriet’s voice cracked slightly. "Bud and I rely on you for so much. And the Commander. He needs you especially. You two are so close. He and the Admiral moved Heaven and Earth to find you. We’re all here at the hospital. Bud and I and the Admiral. Commander Rabb is, too, except…" Harriet bit her lip. "Except that he was shot saving you so he’s in another room. He made it through surgery to remove the bullet just fine. Bud and the Admiral are with him now. The Admiral told us… well, Commander Rabb refused to stop moving until he could get you home. I know you two have…feelings for each other. And I think it’s wonderful so…" Harriet sighed and shook her head. "Look at me being a Nosy Nellie and getting into your business. I’m sorry, ma’am. I know what you and the Commander have doesn’t concern the rest of us. I guess I just… well, never mind about that. Just wake up and get better, Major. That’s all we want. For you to be better."

Harm heard voices coming from a great distance. He tried to focus on them. Slowly, they came closer and closer. He recognized Harriet and the Admiral. They were talking to him about a case. His body felt like it had lead weights sitting on it, holding him down. His head was fuzzy. He struggled to open his eyes, awareness pulling him back by degrees.

Harriet nearly jumped out of her chair when she felt him squeeze her hand. "Commander? Sir, can you hear me?"

"Harriet, how many… times do I… have to tell you… to call me…Harm."

Harriet looked up at the Admiral and laughed delightedly. "It’s habit, sir. I’ll probably always call you Commander."

"Try, Harriet, try," Harm whispered.

His mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton. He tried to lick his lips. Seeing him, Harriet stood and poured a small amount of water into the cup that sat next to the bed. Carefully, she slid one hand beneath his head and lifted him up far enough to take a drink.

"Thanks, Harriet," he murmured when he was done.

He looked around the room for an instant and then suddenly he tried to sit up. A.J. and Harriet both pushed him back down, calming him.

"Where’s Mac?" he demanded.

"She’s two doors over, Commander. Lt. Roberts is with her," The Admiral told him gently.

"I want to see her," Harm stated flatly.

"Why don’t you let the doctor look you over first and see what he thinks? You’ve just been through surgery yourself," A.J. continued.

"I have to see her now," Harm repeated stubbornly.

"Well, well, it sounds like my patient is definitely awake and ready to move mountains."

A.J. partially turned toward the door to see Dr. Strait. He stepped back a few feet so the doctor could move to the side of the bed.

"Commander, I’m Dr. Strait. I removed the bullet from your side a few hours ago. Admiral, Lt., if you’ll excuse for us a moment I’ll check the Commander over and see how he’s progressing."

Several minutes later they were allowed back in.

"He’s moving along fine," Dr. Strait told them. "But tell me, Admiral. Is he always this stubborn?" The man asked with an amused smile.

"Always," A.J. answered dryly.

"I’ll send the nurse back with a wheelchair. I know you’re not going to rest until you see Major MacKenzie," the doctor continued.

"Thank you," Harm returned quietly.

"Commander, would you like us to notify your parents? Harriet asked.

"I don’t think so, Harriet. They would only cut their trip short and come here. There’s nothing they can do. I’ll call them once I get back home," Harm answered.

referring to the fact that Colonel O’Hara was serving a sentence in Leavenworth for stealing the Declaration of Independence.

When the wheelchair was brought in, A.J. and Harriet helped Harm into it and pushed him down the hall to Mac’s room. Bud jumped in surprise when they came in.

"Commander," he exclaimed softly, hurrying over to Harm’s side.

Harm reached up and clasped Bud’s hand. "Bud," he greeted, smiling.

"It’s so good to see you up and moving, sir."

"Thanks, Bud."

His attention went around the younger man then to the still figure on the bed. He carefully wheeled himself over to the side of her bed and set the brake. Leaning forward, he picked up her hand, holding it tenderly between his own.

"How long has she been this way?" he asked, not turning to look at them.

"She drifted in and out on the plane here but she’s been out since before we landed. Dr. Strait said she’s in a coma – a pretty deep one. Prokov kept her shot up with the morphine," The Admiral told him quietly.

"How long have we been here?" Harm asked.

"We got here to the hospital around 1100 yesterday morning. It’s almost 0300 now. There’s been no change in her condition since," the older man continued.

Harm looked down into the pale, bruised features of the woman who’d come to mean so much to him. Reaching out, he started to touch her face, hesitating when he saw how badly his hand was shaking. Behind him, A.J. motioned to Bud and Harriet to follow him out of the room. It was time the Commander spent some time with his lady. Harm vaguely heard the door behind him but he didn’t turn to look. His attention was locked on Mac. Tenderly, he stroked his fingertips down her cheek, his gaze taking in the marks and swelling that would gradually fade away. The real damage, the lasting kind that would always be around, was inside of her.

Looking down, Harm moved slightly and lightly traced his fingers over the bandage on her wrist. He didn’t know if the ropes had cut in deeply enough to scar. He looked back up at her face again. The nurses had washed away the blood and grime and her silky brown hair had dried in soft waves around her face. Leaning forward again, he gingerly touched his fingers to her lips.

"Come back to me, Mac." His words echoed slightly in the oppressive silence of the room. "You can’t leave me like this," he continued. "I won’t let you. Can you hear me, sweetheart? I hope so ‘cause I’m not leaving this room until you open those beautiful brown eyes and tell me to stuff it." He laid his head down briefly on her hand, resting his forehead against her fingers. He raised back up and studied her.

"Things changed for me while I was out there looking for you. I had to come to terms with how I really feel about you, Mac. I guess I wasn’t really surprised but I’ve gotten so adept at shoving it away that I think I almost convinced myself I was just building things up in my mind." He sighed and drew a tiny pattern on her arm with one finger.

"But mostly I’ve just been fooling myself. When the Admiral called to tell me you’d disappeared…" Harm’s voice cracked slightly and he swallowed hard. "The bottom dropped out of my stomach. Then they sent us a box at JAG with your… your white nightgown in it and a picture. Harriet saw the picture before I did and she… well, she was shocked to say the least. I got it away from her and made her go home.

She came down after Bud called her thinking she might be able to help. She and Bud are our best friends, I guess, aren’t they? This whole stinking mess was Webb’s fault. He used us to get…" Harm stopped in mid-sentence and cleared his throat. "We’ll talk about all that later. When you’re better and we can go home. Wake up, Mac," he urged. "Wake up and tell me that everything is going to be all right. That you’re going to be all right."

He brought her hand up to his mouth and tenderly pressed it against his lips. His eyes closed for a moment, his lips moving in a silent prayer Heavenward. "For most of my life I’ve only asked you for one thing, Lord, and that was to find my Dad. After all those years, you finally helped me find the truth about him and bring some closure to that part of my life. Now I’m asking you for something else. Something important to me. Please, God, please save this one tiny life. She’s the most important person in my life. More important to me than anything else. Please don’t take her from me like this. Before we ever even have a chance. Please, let me have more time with her. I’m begging you, God. Don’t take her away."

A lone tear slid down his cheek and dropped onto the back of her hand. Harm pressed another kiss to her palm. Clasping her hand between both of his, he put it down on the bed and laid his cheek against their clasped fingers. He was so tired. Tired of all they’d been through. And all that was still to come. He only prayed he would not be left to face it alone.

The Admiral looked in a little while later to see how Harm was doing and if he was ready to go back to his room and found him asleep at Mac’s bedside, his cheek pressed against both of their hands. Smiling to himself, he stepped backward and closed the door. There was no reason to disturb the Commander as long as he was sleeping.

It was the pain that finally brought her around. And not just any pain. It was pain in every single cell of her body. And she was cold. So cold she was shivering except for one spot near her left side. Something heavy was lying on her hand and it was numb from the pressure. Tentatively she tried to move her hand but something was clasped around her fingers.

Harm jerked awake when he felt the first pull of her hand. His head snapped up and he blinked sleepily at her. Mac’s swollen brown eyes found his gaze in return and held it.

"Hey, Jarhead," he whispered tenderly.

Mac’s eyes flitted around the room. "Where are…" her dry mouth refused to cooperate around the words. She swallowed and tried to moisten them.

Harm gingerly eased up out of the wheelchair to stand closer to her head. He picked up a paper cup from the bedside table and spooned a couple of ice chips into her mouth. After she’d taken them, he dipped his fingers into the cup and