This is a story written back in 2004 which I never posted on here for some reason. I re-read it recently and liked the premise. I am going through a drive when I get time and finding older stories that were posted elsewhere on one of the Yahoo! Groups.

Title: Eyes Of A Stranger

Summary: Nightmares have no mercy – and sometimes, you might even be living one.

Harm is not acting like himself, when he and Mac try to find out why, the truth might be worse than the nightmares that keep him awake at night.

Action/Adventure/Thriller/Romance.

Rating: R and NC-17

Spoilers: Anything up to H&F

ORIGINAL AN: This story takes place sometime during season 10. It would take place in the summer. Harm has been helping Mac deal with her health issue, which for all purposes, is fine now. Yep, just like that. ;) I can speculate, I can go into details about her health issue, but I chose not to and just place a few sentences here and there to make the story go. It is going to be a dark story at times, but Mac is going to stand her ground when it comes to Harm. There will be angsty moments, but not as bad as some of my other works where Harm and Mac have full blown arguments.

AN2: The story, originally, was called "The Assassin" until I was listening to (what I think is the greatest Rock album of all time) Queensryche's 'Operation: Mindcrime' and the song "Eyes of a Stranger" started playing.

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. If I did, it would be switched to cable and there would be a HELL of a lot of sex scenes between Harm and Mac. ;)

PART 1 – Media Overkill

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They're watching me

They're watching you

Taking all the world under control

They make you laugh

They make you blue

In the end they try to eat your soul

Satellites transmit the latest thrill

We can't escape the media overkill

"Media Overkill" By: Scorpions

Thursday
July 15th, 2004

0530 Zulu

Washington, DC

Definitely, he was military. His persistence, timing and skill screamed military training. And even if you didn't notice then the unmistakable look of Naval summer whites would clue you in. A tall, dark haired, Naval officer stood out of place among one of the lowest of the low trading cocaine for cold hard cash. Cash that reeked of narcotics and something else, blood. The blood of those that had been killed over the currency.

Stuart Dunston, one of the best reporters from ZNN sat in the dark, alone, pointing his camera towards the transaction. It was exactly where the mystery caller had told him it would be. Thinking twice, he barely made it there on time. Phone calls were usually a hoax to get the hard working into following a ruse. What had peaked his interest was that the caller told him that a Naval officer would be at the location. The area was at the site of some un-finished building just outside of DC. He arrived, squatted down behind a bush and just aimed his camera to the open warehouse door where the deal was going down.

'What a story this is going to make.' He thought, zooming in closer as Naval officer counted the money. The man's face was obstructed, but that didn't matter, soon enough Dunston would have his face and then, all he had to do was put a name to it. Yup, someone's career was going to come to a full stop that night.

"What the hell do you mean it's not all there?" The buyer screamed at the Naval officer, audibly enough for even Dunston to hear it. "I counted it twice!"

Apparently, the officer was managing to keep his cool, his arms crossed neatly in front of his chest. 'Damnit! Move over!' Dunston wanted to yell at the man, he just needed one good shot and it would soon be over.

And a good shot he got, several in fact of the Naval officer pointing a 9mm at the buyer. "You trying to screw me over!" The voice echoed towards Dunston's hiding place and he sat as still as possible. Something about that voice was familiar, he had heard it before, somewhere.

"No!" Were the buyer's last word because a second later the last thing heard was the sound of a gun. The man's body fell to the ground in a heap and out of Dunston's shot.

The Naval officer moved forward and began collecting the money and narcotics from the table, when he turned around, Dunston's blood froze in his veins. Of course he knew the voice because there, facing his way, was non-other than Commander Harmon Rabb Jr.