Part 7
Windswept Farm
Outskirts of Lexington, KY
1330 Local
Mac turned off the little county road they'd been following for the last 16 minutes and stopped. In front of them was a wooden arch set in a stone base, a sign suspended across the top. Galloping horses were silhouetted against a hunter green background while tall, white letters proudly proclaimed 'Windswept Farm, est. 1832'. The gravel road wound between black post and board fencing that stretched off into the distance. Mac looked over at Harm, "Wow."
"I'll say," Harm replied, looking around. He'd always been fairly indifferent about horses - he'd had other interests growing up, but he remembered running across the occasional horse-crazy girl in school. Any one of them would have thought they'd died and gone to heaven if they'd found themselves here now, deep in Kentucky horse country. He glanced back at Mac and grinned. She was staring at a small herd of mares and foals. He waved a hand at her, "Hey!"
She looked back at him, somewhat startled, "What?"
Harm gestured up the road, "Shall we?"
Mac smiled sheepishly, "Oh yeah, sorry." She started down the road, driving slowly, her attention divided between steering and looking.
"Tell me it's not true, Mac," Harm finally said. She looked over at him in confusion. He continued with a look of mock terror on his face, "Tell me you're not one of them!"
"One of who?" Mac eyed him suspiciously, he was having too much fun.
Harm's voice dropped into the sepulchral range, "The Horse-Obsessed."
She stared at him for a moment before half-closing her eyes and smiling mysteriously. Two could play this game. Returning her attention to the road, she said in a low, husky voice, "You've discovered my secret, handsome stranger. I'm Neigh-O, Queen of the Looks-Like-A-HorseLands." She gave him a sideways look, "What must I do to keep your silence?"
Harm stared at her wide-eyed, torn between laughing and wanting to jump her right in the car. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Damn! He saw her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. No way would he let her get in the last word, he cleared his throat to try again when Mac interrupted.
"Oh look, we're here!" She smiled brightly at him, "Shall we go meet our hosts?"
He gave her a look that clearly said they weren't finished and then turned his attention to the house. Actually, from the size of it, mansion was probably a better description. A sprawling, two-story Victorian design; it boasted an old-fashioned verandah that was obviously well-used. Three people came down the steps in front, an older couple - no doubt the Montgomerys - and a middle-aged man. Harm and Mac got out of the car and walked forward to meet them. Gus and Harley Montgomery were a study in contrast. Harley was tall and silver-haired and moved with a stately, dignified grace. Gus, on the other hand, personified a bantam rooster. Short and wiry, with an unruly shock of salt and pepper hair; he was bandy-legged and hawk-nosed with piercing blue eyes.
The third man stayed back just a little way. As Harm got closer, he revised his opinion of the man's age to be in the mid-fifties. Only an inch or so taller than Mac, his reddish-brown hair was turning gray at the temples. He was broad-shouldered and just beginning a middle-age spread. There was an easy, confident air about him that said he was used to being in charge.
They came together and Harm smiled, "Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery? I'm Commander Harmon Rabb and this is Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie."
Gus Montgomery stuck out a large, callused hand, "Welcome to Windswept. Call me Gus, 'Mr. Montgomery' makes me think you're a used car salesman."
Harm exchanged a glance with Mac, her eyes were sparkling with amusement. He shook Gus' hand, "Call me Harm, sir."
Mac waited until Gus turned to her then extended her hand and smiled, "I'm Sarah or Mac, if you prefer."
He took her hand and smiled, "Sarah, it is. You're too pretty a girl to be called Mac."
Meanwhile, Harley stepped up to Harm and put out her hand, "Harley Montgomery, it's a pleasure to meet you although I wish the circumstances could have been better."
Her voice was deeper than he expected and what he could only describe as melodious. He smiled as he shook her hand, "I agree, ma'am." She smiled in return and turned to Mac. Harm looked up as the third man finally approached,
"Special Agent Don Smith," he said extending a hand. "Once you and the Colonel get settled, we'll need to talk." He had a soothing baritone voice that reminded Harm of Sturgis.
Introductions were finally over and Harley herded the two JAG officers towards the house. With a warm smile, she suggested that Gus and Agent Smith bring up their luggage. The two men exchanged looks, Gus muttering something that made the agent grin. Nevertheless, they dutifully retrieved Harm and Mac's bags and followed the three into the house.
Once inside, Harley continued across a large entryhall to a open doorway on the right. It was a large room, half-paneled in walnut. The walls were a rich hunter green which made the room seem cozier. One wall was covered by floor to ceiling bookcases complete with a rolling library ladder. The shelves were filled with books, trophies and mementos. The other end of the room was dominated by a large stone fireplace. The floor was heart pine and glowed golden from the afternoon sun that came through the three tall windows. Thick persian rugs were scattered throughout and the overstuffed chairs and couch were wellworn and inviting. Books and magazines were piled here and there and an ongoing chess game was set up in a corner. Looking around, Mac decided that this was what home designers had in mind when they used the ubiquitous term 'family room'.
Harley smiled at them both and gestured towards the chairs and couch, "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Would you like anything to eat or drink?"
"No thank you, ma'am," Harm answered politely, after glancing at Mac. "We appreciate your hospitality."
"Least we could do," snorted Gus as he strode into the room, followed by Smith who closed the door behind them. "Seeing that that son-in-law of mine shanghaied you two into this mess." He looked at his wife and then back at the FBI agent. "Me and Harley have been thinking about explaining why these two are here without panicking everybody on the place." He looked over at Harm and Mac, "We've figured out two scenarios: A. You're looking into buying some of my hunter prospects... Either of you know anything horses and riding?" When they both shook their heads, he scowled slightly and looked back at Harley, "I guess that leaves us with Plan B: One of you is Gheorghe's cousin, out here to visit with the family."
"Mac," Harm said, pointing at her, "She's fluent in several languages, she'd be more believable as a native of Bacovia."
Gus chuckled, "Not to mention the fact that you might as well have a United States flag tattooed across your forehead. You look like an All-American boy."
"I don't see how this would work," Mac said, frowning. "Everyone at the Embassy knew I was a Marine officer. After that kidnapping attempt, I'm pretty sure the bad guys know who I am too."
"That's no doubt true, but none of the Embassy staff will be out here and if we introduce you as a member of the family, maybe the person who knows better will slip and make a mistake." Harley offered.
Harm nodded thoughtfully, "It might work... " He shrugged, "It certainly couldn't hurt. What would my role be?"
Gus grinned, "Her bodyguard, of course. Royal folks don't go anywhere without their bodyguards." He looked around the room at everyone, "That settled then?" They all nodded and Gus looked over at Harley, "I suppose we should get the ball rolling. Do we start with the MacKrees?"
His wife nodded, "Once we get past Ruth, the others will be easier." She looked over at the JAG officers and the FBI agent, "Ruth MacKree is our housekeeper and her husband Hank is in charge of the grounds. Nothing much gets by Ruth, you'll have to be careful."
"Well, I guess I need to start acting like a bodyguard," Harm said, standing up. He moved over to the doorway and crossed his arms. "Should I start snarling?" he asked lightly.
Mac shook her head and grinned, "You do and I'll make sure they serve you nothing but meat while we're here."
Harm feigned horror while Harley chuckled, "You're a vegetarian, Mr. Rabb? I'll be sure to inform Mrs. Appleton, our cook." Harm shot Mac a look of triumph.
Gus looked at the three of them, "Y'all finished?" Harm and Mac nodded a little sheepishly while Harley just smiled. Grumbling a little, he left and returned about five minutes later with a white-haired couple. Looking at the MacKrees, Gus gestured toward Mac, "This is Gheorghe's cousin, the Countess..." He looked over at Mac, his eyes widening a little when he realized they hadn't decided on a name.
"Madalina Relia Gorzik," Mac supplied with a slight smile and a hint of an accent.
"Right, right... that's a lot to wrap an old tongue around, isn't it?" Gus said with just a hint of relief. He turned to Mac, "Countess, this is Hank and Ruth MacKree."
Mac smiled at Gus, "Please, we are family. You may call me Maddie." Over by the door, Harm was hard put not to roll his eyes. Mac was playing this for all it was worth. He tried not to jump when she turned and gestured towards him. "And this is Harmon Rabb, he is my... protector?"
"Bodyguard," Harm supplied, looking seriously at the MacKrees. Hank looked somewhat surprised, Ruth looked thoughtful. Her glance strayed to Agent Smith.
Harley spoke up, "This is Mr. Smith, from Oglesby & Schaffer. With the excitement of having the Countess arrive, I'd forgotten he was scheduled to be here. He'll be checking out the farm operation and looking over our books for the next week or so." Smith nodded and smiled amicably at the MacKrees.
Gus harumphed and then rattled on,"Well, Countess... " At Mac's raised eyebrow, he amended himself with a smile, "Maddie... The MacKrees are like family to me, Harley and the kids. They've been with us since the earth started cooling. You need anything, you ask Hank or Ruth." Leaning forward, he said conspiratorially, "Just don't annoy Ruth, she's the mean one."
"Gus," Harley chided.
"That's all right, Ms. Harley," Ruth said complacently, she was a tiny wisp of a woman with a soft southern accent. "Mr. Gus speaks from experience; some folks just don't learn quickly." She folded her arms and regarded Gus with a bright stare.
He made a show of looking belligerent, this was obviously a long-standing routine, "And some folks change their rules every time the wind blows."
"I suppose it would seem that way to someone whose memory seems to be failing," Ruth retorted sweetly. She turned to Harley, "I still have a few things to finish up upstairs, Ms. Harley, if you don't need us anymore." Turning to Mac, she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Countess, let me know if I can get you anything." Ruth nodded to Smith and Harm and swept out of the room with Hank in tow.
Gus looked over at Harley, "What do you think?"
Harley frowned thoughtfully, "I'm not sure. Hank believes it but I don't know if Ruth bought our story." She grinned suddenly at Mac, "You do royalty quite well, my dear. Have you been practicing?"
Harm snorted, "That's the natural arrogance of the Marine Corps shining through, ma'am."
Smith grinned, "That's not arrogance, that's confidence." He looked over at a surprised Mac, "Two tours, 5th Marines in 'Nam, Staff Sergeant when I mustered out."
Harm groaned and covered his eyes, "God help me, now there's two of them."
"You'll get reinforcements, Harm," Mac smiled. She turned to the Montgomerys, "A Navy lieutenant we've worked with before is also coming here. He's driving in from the Memphis NAS."
Harley tapped a finger on her chin, "Will he be in uniform?"
"No," Harm spoke up, "He was told to report in civilian dress."
"Good, we'll just make him one of your associates." Harley smiled and looked around, "I think that covers everything, don't you think so, dear?"
Gus looked over at the FBI agent, "Except for the main reason these folks are out here. How are you planning to catch these people?"
Smith glanced around the room, "I don't know yet."
Gus looked at him incredulously. He took a deep breath but before he could open his mouth, Harley jumped in. "I suppose you're still gathering information?" she asked composedly. Smith nodded and she glanced over at Harm and Mac, "And you would like to confer with the Colonel and Commander?" He nodded again. Harley rose and smiled at her husband, "Dear, weren't you planning on putting that new mare through her paces before dinner?"
Gus sputtered a little and then huffed, "Yes."
"Well then, why don't you do that and let these people get to work? We'll have time to get acquainted at dinner." She swept out of the room, herding Gus ahead of her. She paused at the door, "Harm, 'Maddie', your bags are in your rooms. Top of the stairs, turn left, first and third doors on the right. I'm afraid you'll have to share the bath. I'll be in the kitchen and then the office - it's in the main barn - if you need anything." Her gaze sharpened, "I want you to find these people before any harm comes to my family." With that, she was gone.
Harm let out a low whistle, "I think we know who's in charge around here."
Mac looked at the doorway thoughtfully, "I don't know, Gus doesn't seem like the subservient type."
Smith snorted, "Believe me, he's not." He didn't elaborate further but instead pulled out a notebook and pen, "Why don't you two start at the beginning?"
Mac started off the story, with Harm picking up his part as the tale progressed. They'd been talking for about a half hour when a slight commotion in the entryhall drew their attention. A few seconds later, Ruth appeared in the doorway, followed by a sandy-haired young man. Harm rose quickly to his feet, "Tyler! The Countess and I have been expecting you." He gestured towards Mac who had remained seated, while staring hard at the young man.
Pick stared at them both for a split second, then smiled a trifle uncertainly, "I hope I'm not late, sir, ma'am."
"No, no," Harm smiled, "We just arrived ourselves." He turned to Ruth, "Thank you, Mrs. MacKree."
She waved a hand, "Ruth, please and you're welcome, Mr. Rabb. Will the young men be staying here as well?"
Pick grimaced slightly while Harm stared at her in confusion. This was not how he planned to bring this up. He cleared his throat, "We were in luck, sir, Mr. Bell was with me when I got your call. He insisted on coming along." He tried to appear nonchalant while gazing around the room, wondering if Rabb was going to kill him. He snuck a quick look at the Colonel... the Countess?... what was going on?
Harm shared a startled look with Mac before turning back to Tyler, "That is good news, Tyler. I understood he was on an extended vacation. Where is he?" His voice was soft and friendly, his eyes were another story.
Tyler took a deep breath but before he could open his mouth, he saw a man he didn't recognize half rise out of his chair in surprised alarm. He glanced over his shoulder to see Tink filling the doorway, dwarfing the petite Mrs. MacKree. Pick forced a grin on his face as he attempted a casual tone, "Hey Tinker, I was just telling the Countess and Mr. Rabb that you could make the trip. I think we managed to surprise them." He winced inwardly - that was a huge understatement. Judging from the Commander's reaction, he and Tink would have to talk fast to keep the JAG officers from handing them their heads.
Tink looked at him silently before shifting his gaze to Rabb and then the Colonel. Pick thanked his lucky stars that Bell was phlegmatic by nature. The big man stepped into the room, nodding to the Commander and sketching a slight bow to Colonel MacKenzie. "Your Excellency," he rumbled. "It's good to see you again."
The relief Mac felt lent warmth to her smile. Thank goodness these two were quick on the uptake or their charade would have ended before it began. "Mr. Bell, I'd heard you were under the weather; it's nice to see you on your feet." She ignored the confused look Smith gave her. People who took Corporal Bell at face value usually expected his first words to be 'Fee Fie Fo Fum.' The agent would find out soon enough that Tinker was more than he appeared. She found she wasn't nearly as surprised as Harm seemed to be about Bell's arrival. She'd been keeping up with his progress via e-mail with Pick and Ellie Perez. Pick had mentioned Tink's growing impatience at the enforced inactivity. Mac could sympathize. If it had been Harm alone on this assignment, medical leave or not, she would've tied knots in the regulations to make sure she was here. While she knew that their enemy would realize that these two were part of the opposition, she was hoping they'd make the same mistake others had and underestimate the young men.
Harm smiled at Ruth MacKree, "Is there a room available for them, Ruth?" Preferably something soundproof, he added silently, so I can hang them by their thumbs without disrupting the household.
"Of course, Mr. Rabb, I'm assuming they'll be sharing the room?" When Harm nodded, she smiled, "Just give me fifteen minutes to get it ready." She turned and bustled out of the room.
Harm waited until she had left before closing the door. He turned around and pinned the two men with a glare, "What the hell were you two thinking?"
Pick opened his mouth and closed it, for the life of him, he couldn't think of an explanation that would keep the Commander from reaming him. He glanced helplessly at Tink and blinked when he realized his friend seemed unperturbed. The deep voice rolled out like distant thunder across the room, "I'm on leave. I like horses." Pick cringed and tried to look anywhere but at Commander Rabb.
Harm stared at Tink, momentarily at a loss. Smith looked at the big man as if his opinion that the man's size was inversely proportional to his IQ had just been confirmed. A soft sound made them turn their attention to the Colonel. She was leaning forward with her head resting in her hands. The men glanced at each other and then looked back at her. Mac raised her head up and Pick was astonished to see she was laughing quietly.
She sagged back against the chair cushions, wiping her eyes, "You've come to the right place, Mr. Bell. There's lots of horses here, not to mention a number of people who are probably targeting the Bacovian royal family. Are you up to joining in the game?"
"Yes ma'am," Tink was careful to keep from smiling, knowing Commander Rabb was seriously ticked. He'd been counting on a fellow Marine's empathy from Colonel MacKenzie. She knew as well as he did that Squids shouldn't be allowed to wander inland without a member of the Corps for protection and guidance. He was also aware that the Colonel outranked the Commander, although apparently, she rarely forced the issue. If she didn't have a problem, chances were that Rabb would let it drop without tearing strips out of them.
He watched as the Commander glared at Colonel MacKenzie for a long moment. A slight release in the tension was Tink's only clue to the silent conversation that had just taken place. He felt a surge of relief, he had anticipated correctly. That feeling was short-lived when he heard the Colonel ask everyone except himself to step outside. Tink unconsciously braced himself as Colonel MacKenzie uncoiled from her seat with a predator's grace. In a moment, she was standing in front of him, head tilted up, staring him in the eye. The irreverent part of his mind that wasn't cringing at what promised to be quite an ass-chewing, snickered at the picture they must make. He towered over her by a good foot and a half and outweighed her by at least two hundred pounds; yet he was frozen at attention, afraid to do anything that might increase her ire.
The silence drew out, Tink was willing to bet time itself had stopped. He cursed himself for being seven kinds of an idiot to think he could manipulate these two officers and get away unscathed. Shame was alternating with fear. He'd abused the trust he had with the Colonel, she must be incredibly disappointed in him. Before he knew Colonel MacKenzie, he'd had little use for women in the military. It was okay for the other branches of service but being a Marine was different. They were 'First to Fight' and women weren't allowed in combat. How could you respect an officer who was regulated to staying safely in the rear? Then he'd met the Colonel and she'd turned all his beliefs right on their ear. That assignment had damn near killed her... and himself when he'd done his part to rescue her. He'd do it all again, hell, that was why he was here. Tink suddenly felt panic-stricken, was she about to change her mind and send him back?
Mac glared silently at the big man. Although his face was impassive, his eyes were not. She could see he was probably chastising himself more thoroughly than she could have done. She waited a few more seconds and then spoke in a voice that was harder than steel, "Mr. Bell." His eyes jerked towards her as he refocused, she could tell he was holding his breath. "Never do that again." She didn't bother elaborating, he was well aware of his mistake.
"No ma'am." His voice drifted up into the baritone range, Mac decided it was as close to squeaking as that barrel chest could achieve. She broke eye contact and turned back to her chair, "Exactly what is your physical condition, Corporal?" The tone of her voice told him she wanted the absolute truth without equivocation.
He tensed ever so slightly. "I'm still using a cane to get around, ma'am. Running and jumping will probably land me on my face." Tink watched the Colonel anxiously, what was she going to do? Mac turned around to face him, one eyebrow arching up. He answered her silent question, "I left it in the car, ma'am. Most of the time, I only really need it when I lose my balance. That's happening less and less."
"I see." Mac stared at him a while longer before finally letting her features relax a little, "I suppose this is all for the best, Mr. Bell. I'm more interested in your brain than your ditch-digging abilities. We'll just let Pick handle the physical end of things."
Tink smiled with relief, "Yes ma'am, thank you."
Mac smiled back, "Did Tyler fill you in on the assignment?"
Bell nodded, "Everything except you being a Countess, ma'am."
"Ahhh yes, that was a last minute adjustment, courtesy of our hosts. They felt it would be easier to explain our presence to the staff and neighbors. I am now a cousin of King Gheorghe, Countess Madalina Relia Gorzik, here to meet the family. Commander Rabb and Pick, are supposed to be my bodyguards." She looked at him thoughtfully, "How would you feel about being my personal secretary?"
He was silent for a moment and then said, "That would be fine, ma'am, unless you'd rather I did my 'Dumb as a Rock' routine."
Mac thought it over for a few moments, "No, no. Not this time, I think. Playing dumb would mean you'd have to be a lot more physical and that's not an option right now. Being my secretary will probably be best, just try not to be threatening."
Tinker raised an eyebrow, "Would you like me to flounce?"
Mac actually laughed, "Thanks for the visual, but no. Just be mild-mannered, think Clark Kent."
"Yes ma'am. Umm, ma'am? I do have one question." Mac looked at him expectantly. "Who was the other gentleman in the room?"
Mac waved a hand, "That was our friendly neighborhood FBI agent, Don Smith. He's evaluating the situation so the Bureau can decide if it's a legitimate threat and whether it's worth their time. The Montgomerys have told everyone that he's an accountant, here to check the books and look over the farm operation. My first impression is that he's okay." She looked up at him, "I think that covers everything. Do you have any other questions?"
"No, ma'am." He stiffened to attention, "Permission to withdraw?"
"Granted," Mac answered. "I'll come with you. I need to tell our hosts that they've got one more addition to the guest list."
********
Pick glanced at a stone-faced Commander Rabb and then hurriedly directed his attention back to the door of the family room. Fortunately, the third man voiced what he was thinking.
Smith looked curiously at Rabb, "It's pretty quiet in there. What's she doing?" Although earlier the Colonel had seemed amused, Smith had caught the look on her face as he left the room. He'd seen that look often enough on his own superior's face to know what it usually meant.
Smith was something of a problem child in the Bureau. He'd been an agent for many years and he was good at it. Integrity and honor were the bedrock in his life and profession. He had little patience for the foolish, the lazy and the amoral, wherever they happened to be in the Bureau hierarchy, and a healthy contempt for those abused the public trust. He was known for pointing out flaws in his superiors' reasoning; as well as having a disconcerting habit of ignoring orders that were based on political expediency. Thus he tended to find himself on assignments that took him away from the office as much as possible. It was an arrangement Smith found entirely satisfactory.
The SAC had called him in for this particular case, telling him that the CIA had, once again, overstepped their bounds. One of their operatives was jumping at shadows and had (heaven only knew how) managed to involve the Navy. Now they had hysterical military types - lawyers, no less - running around pretending they were James Bond. The Montgomerys were important and influential people in Kentucky; they were not to be subjected to paranoid ramblings just because their eldest daughter had married into some ragtag European royalty. Smith's assignment was look into the matter, assuage the Montgomery's fears and hustle the amateur hour players back to their desks, wherever that may be. "Get this mess straightened out, Don," the SAC had said, fixing his agent with a glare, "because then I'm going to box the CIA's ears for this debacle."
Smith hadn't protested, his own experience with CIA operatives had been less than inspiring. They had been a pair of self-important young men, enamored with their profession but with little practical experience. His assistance and advice had been condescendingly ignored and the case had gone sour. He'd never heard about their superiors' reaction; Smith had received an ass-chewing by the ASAC, who had obviously relished every moment. His problem, now that he was here, was that neither JAG officer seemed to be anything less than professional. After listening to their story, he found not only that his instincts were agreeing with them, but that they shared his passion for truth. Something was going on and he'd be damned if he'd let anything happen to American citizens just because his boss had a blind spot concerning the CIA.
Smith raised his eyebrows at the still-silent Naval Commander. "Mr. Rabb?" he prompted.
Harm bit back at his irritation. This wasn't the agent's fault and he deserved a civil answer to his question. Without looking in Tyler's direction, he said blandly, "Mac's usually at her most dangerous when she's quiet. I almost feel sorry for Bell." He heard the gulp from Tyler's direction and gave him a few more moments to let it sink in. Finally, he turned and looked at the young lieutenant. Tyler looked so pathetically miserable that Harm was hard put not to smile. He relented just a little and used a milder tone, "Mr. Tyler." Pick's head shot up from the piece of carpet he'd been contemplating. "Mr. Tyler," Harm said again. "Whatever possessed you to bring Bell along? He can't possibly have recovered this quickly and that's going to make him a liability."
Pick resisted the urge to scuff his feet. He felt like he was ten years old again and caught raiding the cookie jar. "I wasn't going to, sir, but Tink made some really good points and I decided he'd be an asset for the... um... Countess."
Folding his arms, Harm stared at Tyler, "You decided? It wasn't your decision to make, Mr. Tyler."
"Yes sir, no excuse, sir," Pick wondered if Tink was feeling half as bad as he did. He admired and respected the Colonel and Commander and here he'd managed to disappoint them within the first five minutes of his arrival. Smith looked from one to the other, wondering when the Commander was going to let the young man off the hook. It seemed to him to be on the verge of being counter-productive.
Apparently, Rabb had reached the same conclusion because he said briskly, "Well, he's here now; we'll find a use for him. Just don't do anything like that again." Pick nodded vigorously.
They waited for a few more minutes in silence before the door finally opened. Mac walked out, followed by Bell. She looked at a subdued Pick and raised an eyebrow at Harm. He gave a small shrug and she shook her head slightly. Directing her gaze at all three, Mac smiled and said, "I'd like you to meet my new personal secretary, Mr. Bell." Smith tried to keep from looking incredulous, there must be more to the man than first met the eye. The Colonel didn't strike him as foolish.
Mac turned back to the big man, "Why don't you find out where you'll be staying. I need to talk to Harley." She turned towards the front door and looked over at Pick, "Mr. Tyler? I would appreciate an escort." She headed out and Tyler hurried to catch up, reaching the door before she did and opening it for her. Mac gave him a fond smile, remembering the last time he'd played doorman for her.
She waited on the verandah for Pick to join her and then moved lightly down the steps. Pausing for a moment to scan the grounds, she headed for a large barn about a hundred yards away. Mac strode purposefully along, Tyler staying just behind her shoulder. She glanced back at the young man, "Quite a place, isn't it?"
Surprised out of his thoughts, Pick stuttered a little, "Yes, ma'am." He was silent for another stride or two and then decided, 'what the hell'... "Ma'am?"
Something in his voice made Mac stop and turn to face the lieutenant, "Yes, Tyler?"
He took a deep breath, "Ma'am, I'd like to apologize. I shouldn't have let Tink talk me into letting him tag along. I'll understand if you'd like to find someone else to help you."
Mac regarded him silently and then sighed a little, "Pick, my greatest concern is that Tinker might somehow re-injure himself. These people have very few scruples, it could get ugly." She resumed walking, "However, I happen to feel much better knowing the two of you are here."
Pick stared at her retreating figure for a moment and then hurried to catch up. Positioning himself at her back, he surveyed the surrounding area. No one was getting to the Colonel while he had the watch.
Windswept Farm
Outskirts of Lexington, KY
1330 Local
Mac turned off the little county road they'd been following for the last 16 minutes and stopped. In front of them was a wooden arch set in a stone base, a sign suspended across the top. Galloping horses were silhouetted against a hunter green background while tall, white letters proudly proclaimed 'Windswept Farm, est. 1832'. The gravel road wound between black post and board fencing that stretched off into the distance. Mac looked over at Harm, "Wow."
"I'll say," Harm replied, looking around. He'd always been fairly indifferent about horses - he'd had other interests growing up, but he remembered running across the occasional horse-crazy girl in school. Any one of them would have thought they'd died and gone to heaven if they'd found themselves here now, deep in Kentucky horse country. He glanced back at Mac and grinned. She was staring at a small herd of mares and foals. He waved a hand at her, "Hey!"
She looked back at him, somewhat startled, "What?"
Harm gestured up the road, "Shall we?"
Mac smiled sheepishly, "Oh yeah, sorry." She started down the road, driving slowly, her attention divided between steering and looking.
"Tell me it's not true, Mac," Harm finally said. She looked over at him in confusion. He continued with a look of mock terror on his face, "Tell me you're not one of them!"
"One of who?" Mac eyed him suspiciously, he was having too much fun.
Harm's voice dropped into the sepulchral range, "The Horse-Obsessed."
She stared at him for a moment before half-closing her eyes and smiling mysteriously. Two could play this game. Returning her attention to the road, she said in a low, husky voice, "You've discovered my secret, handsome stranger. I'm Neigh-O, Queen of the Looks-Like-A-HorseLands." She gave him a sideways look, "What must I do to keep your silence?"
Harm stared at her wide-eyed, torn between laughing and wanting to jump her right in the car. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Damn! He saw her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. No way would he let her get in the last word, he cleared his throat to try again when Mac interrupted.
"Oh look, we're here!" She smiled brightly at him, "Shall we go meet our hosts?"
He gave her a look that clearly said they weren't finished and then turned his attention to the house. Actually, from the size of it, mansion was probably a better description. A sprawling, two-story Victorian design; it boasted an old-fashioned verandah that was obviously well-used. Three people came down the steps in front, an older couple - no doubt the Montgomerys - and a middle-aged man. Harm and Mac got out of the car and walked forward to meet them. Gus and Harley Montgomery were a study in contrast. Harley was tall and silver-haired and moved with a stately, dignified grace. Gus, on the other hand, personified a bantam rooster. Short and wiry, with an unruly shock of salt and pepper hair; he was bandy-legged and hawk-nosed with piercing blue eyes.
The third man stayed back just a little way. As Harm got closer, he revised his opinion of the man's age to be in the mid-fifties. Only an inch or so taller than Mac, his reddish-brown hair was turning gray at the temples. He was broad-shouldered and just beginning a middle-age spread. There was an easy, confident air about him that said he was used to being in charge.
They came together and Harm smiled, "Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery? I'm Commander Harmon Rabb and this is Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie."
Gus Montgomery stuck out a large, callused hand, "Welcome to Windswept. Call me Gus, 'Mr. Montgomery' makes me think you're a used car salesman."
Harm exchanged a glance with Mac, her eyes were sparkling with amusement. He shook Gus' hand, "Call me Harm, sir."
Mac waited until Gus turned to her then extended her hand and smiled, "I'm Sarah or Mac, if you prefer."
He took her hand and smiled, "Sarah, it is. You're too pretty a girl to be called Mac."
Meanwhile, Harley stepped up to Harm and put out her hand, "Harley Montgomery, it's a pleasure to meet you although I wish the circumstances could have been better."
Her voice was deeper than he expected and what he could only describe as melodious. He smiled as he shook her hand, "I agree, ma'am." She smiled in return and turned to Mac. Harm looked up as the third man finally approached,
"Special Agent Don Smith," he said extending a hand. "Once you and the Colonel get settled, we'll need to talk." He had a soothing baritone voice that reminded Harm of Sturgis.
Introductions were finally over and Harley herded the two JAG officers towards the house. With a warm smile, she suggested that Gus and Agent Smith bring up their luggage. The two men exchanged looks, Gus muttering something that made the agent grin. Nevertheless, they dutifully retrieved Harm and Mac's bags and followed the three into the house.
Once inside, Harley continued across a large entryhall to a open doorway on the right. It was a large room, half-paneled in walnut. The walls were a rich hunter green which made the room seem cozier. One wall was covered by floor to ceiling bookcases complete with a rolling library ladder. The shelves were filled with books, trophies and mementos. The other end of the room was dominated by a large stone fireplace. The floor was heart pine and glowed golden from the afternoon sun that came through the three tall windows. Thick persian rugs were scattered throughout and the overstuffed chairs and couch were wellworn and inviting. Books and magazines were piled here and there and an ongoing chess game was set up in a corner. Looking around, Mac decided that this was what home designers had in mind when they used the ubiquitous term 'family room'.
Harley smiled at them both and gestured towards the chairs and couch, "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Would you like anything to eat or drink?"
"No thank you, ma'am," Harm answered politely, after glancing at Mac. "We appreciate your hospitality."
"Least we could do," snorted Gus as he strode into the room, followed by Smith who closed the door behind them. "Seeing that that son-in-law of mine shanghaied you two into this mess." He looked at his wife and then back at the FBI agent. "Me and Harley have been thinking about explaining why these two are here without panicking everybody on the place." He looked over at Harm and Mac, "We've figured out two scenarios: A. You're looking into buying some of my hunter prospects... Either of you know anything horses and riding?" When they both shook their heads, he scowled slightly and looked back at Harley, "I guess that leaves us with Plan B: One of you is Gheorghe's cousin, out here to visit with the family."
"Mac," Harm said, pointing at her, "She's fluent in several languages, she'd be more believable as a native of Bacovia."
Gus chuckled, "Not to mention the fact that you might as well have a United States flag tattooed across your forehead. You look like an All-American boy."
"I don't see how this would work," Mac said, frowning. "Everyone at the Embassy knew I was a Marine officer. After that kidnapping attempt, I'm pretty sure the bad guys know who I am too."
"That's no doubt true, but none of the Embassy staff will be out here and if we introduce you as a member of the family, maybe the person who knows better will slip and make a mistake." Harley offered.
Harm nodded thoughtfully, "It might work... " He shrugged, "It certainly couldn't hurt. What would my role be?"
Gus grinned, "Her bodyguard, of course. Royal folks don't go anywhere without their bodyguards." He looked around the room at everyone, "That settled then?" They all nodded and Gus looked over at Harley, "I suppose we should get the ball rolling. Do we start with the MacKrees?"
His wife nodded, "Once we get past Ruth, the others will be easier." She looked over at the JAG officers and the FBI agent, "Ruth MacKree is our housekeeper and her husband Hank is in charge of the grounds. Nothing much gets by Ruth, you'll have to be careful."
"Well, I guess I need to start acting like a bodyguard," Harm said, standing up. He moved over to the doorway and crossed his arms. "Should I start snarling?" he asked lightly.
Mac shook her head and grinned, "You do and I'll make sure they serve you nothing but meat while we're here."
Harm feigned horror while Harley chuckled, "You're a vegetarian, Mr. Rabb? I'll be sure to inform Mrs. Appleton, our cook." Harm shot Mac a look of triumph.
Gus looked at the three of them, "Y'all finished?" Harm and Mac nodded a little sheepishly while Harley just smiled. Grumbling a little, he left and returned about five minutes later with a white-haired couple. Looking at the MacKrees, Gus gestured toward Mac, "This is Gheorghe's cousin, the Countess..." He looked over at Mac, his eyes widening a little when he realized they hadn't decided on a name.
"Madalina Relia Gorzik," Mac supplied with a slight smile and a hint of an accent.
"Right, right... that's a lot to wrap an old tongue around, isn't it?" Gus said with just a hint of relief. He turned to Mac, "Countess, this is Hank and Ruth MacKree."
Mac smiled at Gus, "Please, we are family. You may call me Maddie." Over by the door, Harm was hard put not to roll his eyes. Mac was playing this for all it was worth. He tried not to jump when she turned and gestured towards him. "And this is Harmon Rabb, he is my... protector?"
"Bodyguard," Harm supplied, looking seriously at the MacKrees. Hank looked somewhat surprised, Ruth looked thoughtful. Her glance strayed to Agent Smith.
Harley spoke up, "This is Mr. Smith, from Oglesby & Schaffer. With the excitement of having the Countess arrive, I'd forgotten he was scheduled to be here. He'll be checking out the farm operation and looking over our books for the next week or so." Smith nodded and smiled amicably at the MacKrees.
Gus harumphed and then rattled on,"Well, Countess... " At Mac's raised eyebrow, he amended himself with a smile, "Maddie... The MacKrees are like family to me, Harley and the kids. They've been with us since the earth started cooling. You need anything, you ask Hank or Ruth." Leaning forward, he said conspiratorially, "Just don't annoy Ruth, she's the mean one."
"Gus," Harley chided.
"That's all right, Ms. Harley," Ruth said complacently, she was a tiny wisp of a woman with a soft southern accent. "Mr. Gus speaks from experience; some folks just don't learn quickly." She folded her arms and regarded Gus with a bright stare.
He made a show of looking belligerent, this was obviously a long-standing routine, "And some folks change their rules every time the wind blows."
"I suppose it would seem that way to someone whose memory seems to be failing," Ruth retorted sweetly. She turned to Harley, "I still have a few things to finish up upstairs, Ms. Harley, if you don't need us anymore." Turning to Mac, she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Countess, let me know if I can get you anything." Ruth nodded to Smith and Harm and swept out of the room with Hank in tow.
Gus looked over at Harley, "What do you think?"
Harley frowned thoughtfully, "I'm not sure. Hank believes it but I don't know if Ruth bought our story." She grinned suddenly at Mac, "You do royalty quite well, my dear. Have you been practicing?"
Harm snorted, "That's the natural arrogance of the Marine Corps shining through, ma'am."
Smith grinned, "That's not arrogance, that's confidence." He looked over at a surprised Mac, "Two tours, 5th Marines in 'Nam, Staff Sergeant when I mustered out."
Harm groaned and covered his eyes, "God help me, now there's two of them."
"You'll get reinforcements, Harm," Mac smiled. She turned to the Montgomerys, "A Navy lieutenant we've worked with before is also coming here. He's driving in from the Memphis NAS."
Harley tapped a finger on her chin, "Will he be in uniform?"
"No," Harm spoke up, "He was told to report in civilian dress."
"Good, we'll just make him one of your associates." Harley smiled and looked around, "I think that covers everything, don't you think so, dear?"
Gus looked over at the FBI agent, "Except for the main reason these folks are out here. How are you planning to catch these people?"
Smith glanced around the room, "I don't know yet."
Gus looked at him incredulously. He took a deep breath but before he could open his mouth, Harley jumped in. "I suppose you're still gathering information?" she asked composedly. Smith nodded and she glanced over at Harm and Mac, "And you would like to confer with the Colonel and Commander?" He nodded again. Harley rose and smiled at her husband, "Dear, weren't you planning on putting that new mare through her paces before dinner?"
Gus sputtered a little and then huffed, "Yes."
"Well then, why don't you do that and let these people get to work? We'll have time to get acquainted at dinner." She swept out of the room, herding Gus ahead of her. She paused at the door, "Harm, 'Maddie', your bags are in your rooms. Top of the stairs, turn left, first and third doors on the right. I'm afraid you'll have to share the bath. I'll be in the kitchen and then the office - it's in the main barn - if you need anything." Her gaze sharpened, "I want you to find these people before any harm comes to my family." With that, she was gone.
Harm let out a low whistle, "I think we know who's in charge around here."
Mac looked at the doorway thoughtfully, "I don't know, Gus doesn't seem like the subservient type."
Smith snorted, "Believe me, he's not." He didn't elaborate further but instead pulled out a notebook and pen, "Why don't you two start at the beginning?"
Mac started off the story, with Harm picking up his part as the tale progressed. They'd been talking for about a half hour when a slight commotion in the entryhall drew their attention. A few seconds later, Ruth appeared in the doorway, followed by a sandy-haired young man. Harm rose quickly to his feet, "Tyler! The Countess and I have been expecting you." He gestured towards Mac who had remained seated, while staring hard at the young man.
Pick stared at them both for a split second, then smiled a trifle uncertainly, "I hope I'm not late, sir, ma'am."
"No, no," Harm smiled, "We just arrived ourselves." He turned to Ruth, "Thank you, Mrs. MacKree."
She waved a hand, "Ruth, please and you're welcome, Mr. Rabb. Will the young men be staying here as well?"
Pick grimaced slightly while Harm stared at her in confusion. This was not how he planned to bring this up. He cleared his throat, "We were in luck, sir, Mr. Bell was with me when I got your call. He insisted on coming along." He tried to appear nonchalant while gazing around the room, wondering if Rabb was going to kill him. He snuck a quick look at the Colonel... the Countess?... what was going on?
Harm shared a startled look with Mac before turning back to Tyler, "That is good news, Tyler. I understood he was on an extended vacation. Where is he?" His voice was soft and friendly, his eyes were another story.
Tyler took a deep breath but before he could open his mouth, he saw a man he didn't recognize half rise out of his chair in surprised alarm. He glanced over his shoulder to see Tink filling the doorway, dwarfing the petite Mrs. MacKree. Pick forced a grin on his face as he attempted a casual tone, "Hey Tinker, I was just telling the Countess and Mr. Rabb that you could make the trip. I think we managed to surprise them." He winced inwardly - that was a huge understatement. Judging from the Commander's reaction, he and Tink would have to talk fast to keep the JAG officers from handing them their heads.
Tink looked at him silently before shifting his gaze to Rabb and then the Colonel. Pick thanked his lucky stars that Bell was phlegmatic by nature. The big man stepped into the room, nodding to the Commander and sketching a slight bow to Colonel MacKenzie. "Your Excellency," he rumbled. "It's good to see you again."
The relief Mac felt lent warmth to her smile. Thank goodness these two were quick on the uptake or their charade would have ended before it began. "Mr. Bell, I'd heard you were under the weather; it's nice to see you on your feet." She ignored the confused look Smith gave her. People who took Corporal Bell at face value usually expected his first words to be 'Fee Fie Fo Fum.' The agent would find out soon enough that Tinker was more than he appeared. She found she wasn't nearly as surprised as Harm seemed to be about Bell's arrival. She'd been keeping up with his progress via e-mail with Pick and Ellie Perez. Pick had mentioned Tink's growing impatience at the enforced inactivity. Mac could sympathize. If it had been Harm alone on this assignment, medical leave or not, she would've tied knots in the regulations to make sure she was here. While she knew that their enemy would realize that these two were part of the opposition, she was hoping they'd make the same mistake others had and underestimate the young men.
Harm smiled at Ruth MacKree, "Is there a room available for them, Ruth?" Preferably something soundproof, he added silently, so I can hang them by their thumbs without disrupting the household.
"Of course, Mr. Rabb, I'm assuming they'll be sharing the room?" When Harm nodded, she smiled, "Just give me fifteen minutes to get it ready." She turned and bustled out of the room.
Harm waited until she had left before closing the door. He turned around and pinned the two men with a glare, "What the hell were you two thinking?"
Pick opened his mouth and closed it, for the life of him, he couldn't think of an explanation that would keep the Commander from reaming him. He glanced helplessly at Tink and blinked when he realized his friend seemed unperturbed. The deep voice rolled out like distant thunder across the room, "I'm on leave. I like horses." Pick cringed and tried to look anywhere but at Commander Rabb.
Harm stared at Tink, momentarily at a loss. Smith looked at the big man as if his opinion that the man's size was inversely proportional to his IQ had just been confirmed. A soft sound made them turn their attention to the Colonel. She was leaning forward with her head resting in her hands. The men glanced at each other and then looked back at her. Mac raised her head up and Pick was astonished to see she was laughing quietly.
She sagged back against the chair cushions, wiping her eyes, "You've come to the right place, Mr. Bell. There's lots of horses here, not to mention a number of people who are probably targeting the Bacovian royal family. Are you up to joining in the game?"
"Yes ma'am," Tink was careful to keep from smiling, knowing Commander Rabb was seriously ticked. He'd been counting on a fellow Marine's empathy from Colonel MacKenzie. She knew as well as he did that Squids shouldn't be allowed to wander inland without a member of the Corps for protection and guidance. He was also aware that the Colonel outranked the Commander, although apparently, she rarely forced the issue. If she didn't have a problem, chances were that Rabb would let it drop without tearing strips out of them.
He watched as the Commander glared at Colonel MacKenzie for a long moment. A slight release in the tension was Tink's only clue to the silent conversation that had just taken place. He felt a surge of relief, he had anticipated correctly. That feeling was short-lived when he heard the Colonel ask everyone except himself to step outside. Tink unconsciously braced himself as Colonel MacKenzie uncoiled from her seat with a predator's grace. In a moment, she was standing in front of him, head tilted up, staring him in the eye. The irreverent part of his mind that wasn't cringing at what promised to be quite an ass-chewing, snickered at the picture they must make. He towered over her by a good foot and a half and outweighed her by at least two hundred pounds; yet he was frozen at attention, afraid to do anything that might increase her ire.
The silence drew out, Tink was willing to bet time itself had stopped. He cursed himself for being seven kinds of an idiot to think he could manipulate these two officers and get away unscathed. Shame was alternating with fear. He'd abused the trust he had with the Colonel, she must be incredibly disappointed in him. Before he knew Colonel MacKenzie, he'd had little use for women in the military. It was okay for the other branches of service but being a Marine was different. They were 'First to Fight' and women weren't allowed in combat. How could you respect an officer who was regulated to staying safely in the rear? Then he'd met the Colonel and she'd turned all his beliefs right on their ear. That assignment had damn near killed her... and himself when he'd done his part to rescue her. He'd do it all again, hell, that was why he was here. Tink suddenly felt panic-stricken, was she about to change her mind and send him back?
Mac glared silently at the big man. Although his face was impassive, his eyes were not. She could see he was probably chastising himself more thoroughly than she could have done. She waited a few more seconds and then spoke in a voice that was harder than steel, "Mr. Bell." His eyes jerked towards her as he refocused, she could tell he was holding his breath. "Never do that again." She didn't bother elaborating, he was well aware of his mistake.
"No ma'am." His voice drifted up into the baritone range, Mac decided it was as close to squeaking as that barrel chest could achieve. She broke eye contact and turned back to her chair, "Exactly what is your physical condition, Corporal?" The tone of her voice told him she wanted the absolute truth without equivocation.
He tensed ever so slightly. "I'm still using a cane to get around, ma'am. Running and jumping will probably land me on my face." Tink watched the Colonel anxiously, what was she going to do? Mac turned around to face him, one eyebrow arching up. He answered her silent question, "I left it in the car, ma'am. Most of the time, I only really need it when I lose my balance. That's happening less and less."
"I see." Mac stared at him a while longer before finally letting her features relax a little, "I suppose this is all for the best, Mr. Bell. I'm more interested in your brain than your ditch-digging abilities. We'll just let Pick handle the physical end of things."
Tink smiled with relief, "Yes ma'am, thank you."
Mac smiled back, "Did Tyler fill you in on the assignment?"
Bell nodded, "Everything except you being a Countess, ma'am."
"Ahhh yes, that was a last minute adjustment, courtesy of our hosts. They felt it would be easier to explain our presence to the staff and neighbors. I am now a cousin of King Gheorghe, Countess Madalina Relia Gorzik, here to meet the family. Commander Rabb and Pick, are supposed to be my bodyguards." She looked at him thoughtfully, "How would you feel about being my personal secretary?"
He was silent for a moment and then said, "That would be fine, ma'am, unless you'd rather I did my 'Dumb as a Rock' routine."
Mac thought it over for a few moments, "No, no. Not this time, I think. Playing dumb would mean you'd have to be a lot more physical and that's not an option right now. Being my secretary will probably be best, just try not to be threatening."
Tinker raised an eyebrow, "Would you like me to flounce?"
Mac actually laughed, "Thanks for the visual, but no. Just be mild-mannered, think Clark Kent."
"Yes ma'am. Umm, ma'am? I do have one question." Mac looked at him expectantly. "Who was the other gentleman in the room?"
Mac waved a hand, "That was our friendly neighborhood FBI agent, Don Smith. He's evaluating the situation so the Bureau can decide if it's a legitimate threat and whether it's worth their time. The Montgomerys have told everyone that he's an accountant, here to check the books and look over the farm operation. My first impression is that he's okay." She looked up at him, "I think that covers everything. Do you have any other questions?"
"No, ma'am." He stiffened to attention, "Permission to withdraw?"
"Granted," Mac answered. "I'll come with you. I need to tell our hosts that they've got one more addition to the guest list."
********
Pick glanced at a stone-faced Commander Rabb and then hurriedly directed his attention back to the door of the family room. Fortunately, the third man voiced what he was thinking.
Smith looked curiously at Rabb, "It's pretty quiet in there. What's she doing?" Although earlier the Colonel had seemed amused, Smith had caught the look on her face as he left the room. He'd seen that look often enough on his own superior's face to know what it usually meant.
Smith was something of a problem child in the Bureau. He'd been an agent for many years and he was good at it. Integrity and honor were the bedrock in his life and profession. He had little patience for the foolish, the lazy and the amoral, wherever they happened to be in the Bureau hierarchy, and a healthy contempt for those abused the public trust. He was known for pointing out flaws in his superiors' reasoning; as well as having a disconcerting habit of ignoring orders that were based on political expediency. Thus he tended to find himself on assignments that took him away from the office as much as possible. It was an arrangement Smith found entirely satisfactory.
The SAC had called him in for this particular case, telling him that the CIA had, once again, overstepped their bounds. One of their operatives was jumping at shadows and had (heaven only knew how) managed to involve the Navy. Now they had hysterical military types - lawyers, no less - running around pretending they were James Bond. The Montgomerys were important and influential people in Kentucky; they were not to be subjected to paranoid ramblings just because their eldest daughter had married into some ragtag European royalty. Smith's assignment was look into the matter, assuage the Montgomery's fears and hustle the amateur hour players back to their desks, wherever that may be. "Get this mess straightened out, Don," the SAC had said, fixing his agent with a glare, "because then I'm going to box the CIA's ears for this debacle."
Smith hadn't protested, his own experience with CIA operatives had been less than inspiring. They had been a pair of self-important young men, enamored with their profession but with little practical experience. His assistance and advice had been condescendingly ignored and the case had gone sour. He'd never heard about their superiors' reaction; Smith had received an ass-chewing by the ASAC, who had obviously relished every moment. His problem, now that he was here, was that neither JAG officer seemed to be anything less than professional. After listening to their story, he found not only that his instincts were agreeing with them, but that they shared his passion for truth. Something was going on and he'd be damned if he'd let anything happen to American citizens just because his boss had a blind spot concerning the CIA.
Smith raised his eyebrows at the still-silent Naval Commander. "Mr. Rabb?" he prompted.
Harm bit back at his irritation. This wasn't the agent's fault and he deserved a civil answer to his question. Without looking in Tyler's direction, he said blandly, "Mac's usually at her most dangerous when she's quiet. I almost feel sorry for Bell." He heard the gulp from Tyler's direction and gave him a few more moments to let it sink in. Finally, he turned and looked at the young lieutenant. Tyler looked so pathetically miserable that Harm was hard put not to smile. He relented just a little and used a milder tone, "Mr. Tyler." Pick's head shot up from the piece of carpet he'd been contemplating. "Mr. Tyler," Harm said again. "Whatever possessed you to bring Bell along? He can't possibly have recovered this quickly and that's going to make him a liability."
Pick resisted the urge to scuff his feet. He felt like he was ten years old again and caught raiding the cookie jar. "I wasn't going to, sir, but Tink made some really good points and I decided he'd be an asset for the... um... Countess."
Folding his arms, Harm stared at Tyler, "You decided? It wasn't your decision to make, Mr. Tyler."
"Yes sir, no excuse, sir," Pick wondered if Tink was feeling half as bad as he did. He admired and respected the Colonel and Commander and here he'd managed to disappoint them within the first five minutes of his arrival. Smith looked from one to the other, wondering when the Commander was going to let the young man off the hook. It seemed to him to be on the verge of being counter-productive.
Apparently, Rabb had reached the same conclusion because he said briskly, "Well, he's here now; we'll find a use for him. Just don't do anything like that again." Pick nodded vigorously.
They waited for a few more minutes in silence before the door finally opened. Mac walked out, followed by Bell. She looked at a subdued Pick and raised an eyebrow at Harm. He gave a small shrug and she shook her head slightly. Directing her gaze at all three, Mac smiled and said, "I'd like you to meet my new personal secretary, Mr. Bell." Smith tried to keep from looking incredulous, there must be more to the man than first met the eye. The Colonel didn't strike him as foolish.
Mac turned back to the big man, "Why don't you find out where you'll be staying. I need to talk to Harley." She turned towards the front door and looked over at Pick, "Mr. Tyler? I would appreciate an escort." She headed out and Tyler hurried to catch up, reaching the door before she did and opening it for her. Mac gave him a fond smile, remembering the last time he'd played doorman for her.
She waited on the verandah for Pick to join her and then moved lightly down the steps. Pausing for a moment to scan the grounds, she headed for a large barn about a hundred yards away. Mac strode purposefully along, Tyler staying just behind her shoulder. She glanced back at the young man, "Quite a place, isn't it?"
Surprised out of his thoughts, Pick stuttered a little, "Yes, ma'am." He was silent for another stride or two and then decided, 'what the hell'... "Ma'am?"
Something in his voice made Mac stop and turn to face the lieutenant, "Yes, Tyler?"
He took a deep breath, "Ma'am, I'd like to apologize. I shouldn't have let Tink talk me into letting him tag along. I'll understand if you'd like to find someone else to help you."
Mac regarded him silently and then sighed a little, "Pick, my greatest concern is that Tinker might somehow re-injure himself. These people have very few scruples, it could get ugly." She resumed walking, "However, I happen to feel much better knowing the two of you are here."
Pick stared at her retreating figure for a moment and then hurried to catch up. Positioning himself at her back, he surveyed the surrounding area. No one was getting to the Colonel while he had the watch.
