1630 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"Colonel MacKenzie, Commander Rabb, why is the Maravalis case still on my docket? The Lieutenant plead guilty to larceny and conduct unbecoming a month ago. Sentencing has been continued twice, the Lieutenant agreed to make full restitution for sixty two-carat synthetic diamonds which he stole from the Naval Research Laboratory. Has he done so?"

Harm was forced to return to work after a just few short days spent with his newborn son. Mac, while still technically on maternity leave, was roped into showing up for just one short hearing and the retrieval of the diamonds and profits from Maravalis' exploits. Leaving little Matthew Rabb in the care of Lieutenant Harriet Roberts for the hopefully brief event, she was eager to get it over with, so she could rush back home to her comfy clothes and warm, welcoming bed.

Harm stood to address the judge, "Ma'am, the defendant sold thirty-six of the diamonds and deposited the money in an off-shore bank account. It has taken a little longer than anticipated to get that money back."

"But its here now?"

"As of this morning, yes ma'am."

"And the twenty-four remaining diamonds?"

"Also at the bank, your honor," Mac stood to address Judge Helfman, "In a safe deposit box. Lieutenant Maravalis has given us power of attorney , we'll collect the diamonds and a cashier's check this afternoon, wrap this case up tomorrow."

"See that it happens," the Commander bangs her gavel, dismissing the court.

Maravalis was led to the back of the courtroom, moving between the defense and prosecution tables, giving Mac a murderous look as he passed. After securing for the afternoon, Mac and Harm made their way outside, to their vehicles, intending to retrieve the diamonds and money from the bank.

"Mac, they're going to be there. What do you think he lied at his pre-trial agreement? He's not that stupid."

"Yeah, maybe not, but I'll just feel better when the diamonds are secured. Ever since Van Duyn went missing..."

"Oh, the diamond expert. He's in the CIA, Mac, you don't know that he's missing. You just don't know where he is," he unlocked and opened the door to his cherry red classic Corvette.

Mac rounded the back end of the car, heading toward her own, "I just have a feeling Harm, something's gone wrong."

"Another premonition, huh? They're there. I'll see you at the bank."

Harm removed his cover as he entered the car, closing the door behind himself. He placed the key in the ignition, and instead of hearing the engine roar to life, he got a rapid clicking. Sighing in frustration, he opened the door and climbed out, turning to access the battery beneath the seat. After just a few seconds of inspecting it, the battery blew in his face, causing him to smack his head against the roof and pull out of the car in incredible pain.

"Harm?" Mac heard the pop and Harm's shout, immediately turning and running back in the direction she came from.

He called her name, not hearing anything in response, other than a piercing high pitched ringing, but saw her running toward him after taking his hands away from his eyes. She was saying something to him, but he couldn't even make out what she was saying by looking at her, all he could see was the world spinning and moving around him.

She repeated herself, but he became frustrated almost immediately, "What? I can't hear you. I can't hear anything."

Mac shook her head, taking his hand to pull him away from the car. She retrieved his keys from the ignition, closing and locking the car door before guiding him gently into her car and to the hospital. Once they made it to the emergency room and were checked in, she stepped out to make a call to the admiral, explaining the situation. He requested she return after making sure Harm was okay, so they could figure out what to do with his work load.

Later that day, Mac, Admiral Chegwidden, Commander Turner, and Lieutenant Roberts were seated around the admiral's desk.

"Commander Rabb will be in the hospital overnight for observation. He's lost his hearing, but that should be temporary."

"Any idea what happened, Mac?" Sturgis Turner directed his attention to her.

"Car's battery blew up in his face. He's lucky he didn't get acid in his eyes," her tone and body language let on that there was more to her concern than that of a just a friend or work colleague.

"The final sentencing on the Maravalis case is scheduled for tomorrow. Lieutenant, you sat second chair, so you cover for Rabb."

"Uh, shouldn't we wait until he returns, sir?" Roberts asked uncertainly.

"Is there a problem?"

"No! No sir, I'm just not up to speed on the case."

"I'll fill you in this afternoon, it should be strictly routine," Mac offered.

"Good. Commander, I'd appreciate it if you dropped by the hospital and got a list from Rabb of what needs to be covered in the next 48 hours."

"Yes sir," Sturgis nodded.

"Dismissed"

"Aye sir," Bud was the only one able to respond before the admiral strode out of the office.

Harm emerged from the bathroom, slightly unsteady on his feet. As soon as he'd oriented himself correctly and sat down on the bed, Jennifer Coates and Sturgis Turner appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"Hello Commander!" Jennifer greeted, though he still was not aware of her being there.

"Harm!" Sturgis called, startling the tall Commander not with his voice, but their sudden presence.

"Hey guys!" he said, almost yelling.

Jennifer handed over the balloons she's brought, "You don't have to shout, sir."

"How you doing, buddy?" Sturgis reached out to shake his hand, "How ya feeling?"

"I can't hear anything," Harm said gesturing to his head, "Its frustrating"

Sturgis laid the papers he was carrying on a table and left the room, "I have an idea. "

"Have a seat," Harm gestured to the chair near the end of the bed, " Uh, Jennifer, we need to talk about Mattie."

"I can hear you just fine sir."

"Yeah, I feel fine, but we have to come up with a cover story for the next day or two."

Sturgis returned with a children's dry-erase board. He'd written on the board for Harm's benefit, "4 U" and a smiley face.

"Nice!" Harm responded.

"For us, actually, " Sturgis smiled, flipping the board to show a second message, "Don't shout."

"Was I shouting?" realization dawned on his face.

Jennifer turned her attention to Sturgis, "I could use some help, sir. The Commander doesn't want to tell Mattie he's in the hospital."

"I, uh, I can't hear anything. Its driving me nuts. You know, look... Mattie already lost her mother and she has her father to worry about now. I don't want her to have to worry about me too, you know?"

He noticed Jenn holding up the board, which he read aloud, "Lies= bad parenting."

He looked between the two for a minute before picking up the phone, intent on calling her. Remembering he couldn't hear, he dropped the receiver , looking up to see Jennifer and Sturgis giggling quietly.

Later that evening, Mac appeared at the door to Harm's hospital room carrying a sleeping baby Matthew. Noting that the tiny baby wasn't the only one sleeping, she pulled up the single chair in his room and sat down, settling herself and the baby before reaching over to gently stroke the side of Harm's face. His eyes opened slowly and a smile spread across his face, Harm noted pleasantly that Mac had finally given in and dressed the boy in his favorite sleeper, one patterned with little yellow bi-planes and fluffy, sky blue clouds. Seeing her open her mouth to speak, Harm reached over to the table beside his bed to retrieve the dry-erase board his friends had brought him. He gestured for her to pass him the baby, and as soon as she did, he passed her the board and a marker.

"How are you feeling?" she wrote.

"Useless," he said just a little too loudly, causing the little body curled up on him to startle.

He smiled sheepishly and continued in a quieter voice, "I'm getting released tomorrow. Will you take me home?"

Mac nodded in the affirmative before looking back down to the dry erase board, "Do you need anything before you leave?"

"Maybe another shirt," he chuckled as little Matt smiled in his sleep and spit up on his chest.

1330 ZULU
MARINE BRIG
QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

Both Bud and Mac were frustrated and angry that Maravalis played them. The quick trip to his bank's safety deposit box turned up nothing but more questions. They'd discovered an empty box and Agent Van Duyn's signature on the access card dated a week before he went missing.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Mac admonished LT Maravalis, "Well, your plea agreement just went out the window. You think five years is a long time? Now its 10. Talk to me. Why was a CIA agent's name on the signature card of your safe deposit box?"

"And why didn't you tell the court?" Bud supplemented.

"I couldn't," Maravalis answered simply.

"Why not?"

"Because Van Duyn was the one buying the diamonds from me."

"You were selling diamonds to the CIA?" Mac looked unconvinced.

"No ma'am, Van Duyn was on his own. He was reselling the diamonds to people he said would kill him if his cover was blown."

"What people?"

"I don't know ma'am, I didn't want to know. Van Duyn said if I didn't cop to the lesser charge, if I brought him into it, I'd be tried for treason."

"Treason? Terrorists buy weapons with diamonds," Mac turned to Bud, "That was Sadik Fahd's specialty."

"Colonel, I would have quit if I could, believe me. Ask Van Duyn, maybe he's still got the stones."

"Agent Van Duyn's disappeared," Bud asserted.

1638 ZULU
HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION

Mac had been knocking for almost ten minutes, by the time Mattie had finally come out into the hallway to tell her Harm was home and the door was unlocked. She was surprised anyone could hear anything over the incredibly loud music emanating from his apartment. Opening the door, she found him sitting on the couch, reading a magazine.

"Harm?" she called, to no reply. Trying again, louder, "Harm?"

She waved her arms, hoping the motion would get his attention.

"Oh, hey! I didn't hear you come in," he said closing the magazine.

"I could be Godzilla, and you wouldn't hear me," she mused to herself, then raised her voice so he might hear, "Do you mind if I turn it down?"

"What?"

She picked up the stereo remote and lowered the volume of his music, then sat down in front of him on the coffee table, making sure she was in his line of sight.

"Can you hear me at all?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can hear you if you'd speak up," he shouted.

She leaned forward and annunciated each word, "The diamonds weren't there."

"Well, chalk one up for premonitions."

"Van Duyn was murdered."

"Make that two."

"Slowly. He was tortured to death.

"Wow, better make that three."

"Remember what you said when we lost Sadik Fahd in Paraguay? That we'd see him again when he came to kill us? I think he's here, Harm, and this time the stakes are a lot bigger than Stinger missiles."

"He's not the only terrorist who deals in torture and diamonds, Mac. I think you're jumping to conclusions."

"What about your car?"

"It could've been any number of things. A cracked battery could cause an explosion. You think Sadik did it."

"Doesn't look like a coincidence to me."

Harm sighed picking up his magazine and his empty coffee cup, "I don't know him as well as you do Mac, but what I do know about him is..."

He stumbled slightly getting up, feeling more dizzy the higher he rose.

She stood up to help support him a concerned look crossing her face, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I-I'm, uh... Whoa... A little dizzy. Inner ear... Thing. Listen, what I do know of Sadik, he's pretty thorough, so if he wanted me killed, I would already be dead."

"Yeah, maybe he just wanted you out of the picture."

"Have you talked to Webb about this?"

"On assignment. Undisclosed location. I've already called his office and gotten the standard message."

Mattie came in bearing a plate of food, "Stay for lunch, Mac? I made some extra sandwiches."

"No, thanks, Mattie. I have to get back to the office. Take care of him for me, will you?"

Harm looked up just as their lips stopped moving, "You two talking about me?"

In lieu of an answer, Mattie holds up the plate of sandwiches.

"I'm not hungry, Mattie," was his petulant reply.

She looks him dead in the eye, speaking loudly and clear enough for him to raise an eyebrow, "Mattie says eat."

Not long after Mac arrived back at headquarters, Bud stuck his head in her office door, knocking, "You wanted to see me, ma'am?"

Closing a file labeled 'top secret' and returning it to its file drawer, Mac turns toward him, "I think I know where the diamonds are, Bud. "

"Well, I guess that's good news, ma'am."

"Been looking through the dossier Van Duyn gave me on Lieutenant Maravalis. The CIA doesn't operate inside the country, right?" Bud nodded his head, fairly sure of his answer, "Wrong. They were following him for months. Van Duyn knew everything there was to know about Maravalis- the health club he belonged to, where he got his hair cut, even the combination of the locker he kept at the place he bought his cigars."

"And?"

"I think that might be where the diamonds are," she postulated as she fastened her overcoat.

Well, I suppose that's possible..."

Mac cut Bud off, "I want to look inside that locker, Bud, but I can't do it by myself. You've got the power of attorney. Now, if the diamonds are there, I need you to keep the chain of custody.

The man running the front desk at Maravalis' cigar club was not happy about the lawyers' insistence that they be let into the LT's locker, "Look, this is a private club. I don't know if I can allow you just to walk in..."

You afraid that we're going to find something that we shouldn't?" Bud inquired, "Like Cuban cigars?"

"We are not responsible for what our members keep in their locker," he insisted.

Mac was sick of playing games, antsy to get the diamonds and wrap up the case, "Look, we're not with customs. We don't care what your members smoke or where they got them."

Bud turned to Mac, conspiratorially, "Although, we could go and get a court order. And let customs know, so they don't have to come back later, cause that's pretty inconvenient."

"Okay. All right. I'm gonna trust you," the man let Mac and Bud into the back room where the lockers were located.

Mac quickly found the right one, inputting the combination, while Bud pulled the door closed behind them. Immediately after opening the locker, Mac spotted a small pouch laying on top of a wooden box.

"Think we found them," she opened the pouch, gasping as it produced one diamond for inspection, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's amazing- spend a few billion years in the bowels of the earth, or a few days at the Naval Research Laboratory, and pure carbon turns into that," Bud marveled.

"Here, hold out your hand," Mac instructed, upending the bag, four more diamonds fell out into Bud's palm.

"There should be 24 of them," he looked back up into the locker confused, while Mac felt the rest of the pouch then peered into the locker.

Finding nothing, she slapped the bag into Bud's hand frustratedly, pivoting and departing quickly, "19 are missing."

Her brisk exodus and narrow focus missed the familiar tan skinned man sitting just on the other side of the door. Sadik Fahd slowly let the cigar smoke waft through his lips as he watched Sarah MacKenzie walk past him, and officially back into his life.

Mac unlocked her apartment door later that evening, curiously hearing a slow middle eastern melody as she opened the door. She stopped and looked around, after coming to the quick realization that she didn't leave the radio on when she left that morning. After doing a quick visual sweep of the open areas of her apartment, and retrieving the pistol she hid near the door, she quickly placed her sleeping child on the couch, quickly making sure there was no way for him to fall. As she moved to get a better position near her bedroom door, she noticed a diamond sparkling on top of the books and case notes she'd left spread across the coffee table. An inspection of her bedroom turned up the same thing, another perfect two-carat diamond, placed in the middle of her bed.

Minutes after finding the second diamond, her phone rang. She answered almost timidly, hearing strains of lively music, a woman singing in Farsi, and many voices speaking on top of one another.

Unnerved from the lack of response, she tried again in a louder, stronger voice, "Who is this?"

After a few moments, a voice came on speaking a language she didn't understand, but that she recognized.

"I don't speak Arabic."

This time, he spoke to her, so she could comprehend what he was saying, "Perhaps you would prefer if we speak Farsi, Sarah."

"No," she responded to him in a condescending tone, "I'd prefer to speak English."

"But you do speak Farsi," he taunted, "Something you neglected to tell me during our time together in the Chaco Boreal."

She thought back to his threatening words from the last time they were together, "Where are you?"

"Near, very near."

"Near enough to have killed Van Duyn?"

"He broke his word, betrayed my cause. His greed cost him his life. But I did not call you about Van Duyn. It's good to hear your voice, Sarah. Are you surprised to hear mine?"

"Why are you calling me?" she demanded after listening to him carry on.

"Well, I thought you might enjoy some music from our part of the world. It seems we share a common heritage. Oh, by the way, how did you like the gifts I left for you? A small token of my esteem, as they like to say in the west."

"You can stuff the clichés, Sadik. We both know diamonds are your specialty. What do you want with me?" her voice was conveying her increasing rage at his violation of her privacy.

"I have... Great admiration for you, Sarah."

"Which is why you almost tortured me to death in Paraguay?"

"Yes, well, that was distressing circumstance. You see, at that time I was still confusing you with the enemy. I am truly sorry."

"Sorry," she sneered.

"Except for the fact that it allowed me to see the great strength of your heart, yes. I would like to make it up to you."

"How?"

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure," he chuckled, "You were incredibly brave in Paraguay, Sarah, more than any woman and most men that I have ever known. And when I saw you in the cigar store today..."

"What are you saying? I don't understand."

"All I know is, in our souls we are more alike than we are different. We are both warriors; we are both impassioned. I feel... Perhaps we will talk again... soon," and with a few more seconds of the music, he was gone.

A wail went up in the other room, pulling Mac out of her daze.

Harm, Jennifer and Mattie sat around his dining room table laughing about Mattie's Scrabble word choice when they all, except Harm, were disrupted by a loud knock on the door. Mattie sprang up, announcing that she would 'get it'.

"You'll get what?" asked Harm visually tracking her movement to the door.

"Oh, hey," said Mattie, moving back from the door to let Mac enter.

"Hi, Mattie," she smiled as she passed through the apartment's threshold.

"How's it going?" she asked conversationally.

"Good," Mac answered swiftly, depositing the infant car seat containing the small, bundled baby and his bag of necessities inside the apartment, before removing her gloves, "Uh, Jennifer, I need to speak with Harm, alone."

"Yes, ma'am," Jenn stood promptly and herded Mattie out the door.

Harm came to stand closer to Mac, "What's up?"

"I was right. Sadik's here, in DC, " Mac declared, " Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I- I heard you. Are you sure?"

"He called me at my house," she sighed, "Two hours ago. And he killed Van Duyn."

She produced a stack of photos, all depicting the face of Sadik Fahd, but with different disguises, from her pocket, which he looked at for a second then asked, "Where'd you get these?"

"CIA."

"Are they on him?"

"They will be."

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Be careful. He may not look like any of those pictures. And..." she trailed off looking behind them to the sleeping infant.

"You're the one who needs to be careful, Mac," Harm insisted.

"Believe me, I am," she adjusted her position in the chair.

"He knows your phone number, he knows where you live."

"I have this creepy feeling that he's... he's studying me."

"He wants to get you on your own. He's daring you to get closer to him."

"Yeah, but why would he do that? It doesn't make sense."

Harm raised his eyebrows, "He's seducing you."

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"He's forced you to think about him. He wants something from you Mac and he just may have found your weakness."

"What weakness?"

"You want to know what he's up to. So that way, he uses your intelligence against you."

She rolled her eyes, getting up from the table, taking the pictures and striding to the door.

"Where you going Mac? I'm coming with you," he rose from his chair unsteadily.

"You can't help, Harm. Frankly, you're still a liability, and I really need you to look after Matt. If anything were to happen to you again, or him..." she gazed at the baby for a moment, then Harm, before she turned to leave.

"Be careful," he called after her.

Music and fragrant smoke poured out of the open door as Mac approached the hookah lounge uneasily. She asked the man at the door if he'd seen a man looking like the photos she's gotten from the CIA, to which he responded in the negative. She sat down at one of the tables anxiously, after replacing the pictures in her pocket.

Her phone rang. Answering, she heard yet another phrase in Arabic, then the same voice asking whether she knew what the phrase meant.

"I told you I don't speak Arabic," she responded curtly.

"It means 'Islam is the solution'."

"I'm sure it is for many. Where are you?"

He answered vaguely, "Exactly where I need to be. The question, Sarah, is, where are you?"

"You know, I'm getting bored with these games, Sadik."

"Then I apologize. There were matters I had to attend to but now you have my full attention."

"Oh, I've seen what your full attention is like."

"You misunderstand. You have been pervasively in my thoughts. We do have much in common."

" We have only one thing in common. We both intend to kill each other."

"No, no, I have absolutely no desire to kill you."

"Oh, then we have nothing in common."

"We are both far from our country, cut off from our roots and our traditions, existing in a world not meant for us."

"I was born here, Sadik. This is my country."

"It is only to be expected that you think that. But your grandmother, Fatemeh, taught you the Koran. The holy words resonate within you, even though you can't feel them, and the Persian music, I'm sure it speaks to you."

"You know all this..."

"I do, Sarah. I sensed it in you in Paraguay. You were with men who are weak, but their weakness is not your weakness. In you, there is strength, and a wisdom that even you don't recognize," he peered in through the beaded curtain clad window.

Unaware, she continued, "Ah, I supposed I should say I'm flattered."

"The truth is not flattery."

"I don't think you'd know the truth if it appeared to you in a tongue of flame."

The phone disconnected with a click. Unbeknownst to her, Sadik had already arrived at the lounge, using a fake accent to test her, requesting an unused chair from her table. Sitting at a close table, he dialed her number again.

"Yes?" she answered.

"Are you alone, Sarah?" he taunted.

"I'm in a public place."

"Yes, I know," he made eye contact with her as a small crowd finished passing between them, "But are you here alone?"

"Yes," she answered again, continuing the charade as he showed her the business end of the pistol he was hiding beneath his overcoat, "Very impressive, Sadik."

"Thank you. Remove the battery from your cellular phone," he began instructing her, "Put the phone and the battery in your purse, pay your bill and get up from the table."

As they left, he urged her forward, "Keep walking. Don't look at me."

"It's not an ambush," she sighed, pulling her gloves on, "I told you I came alone."

"You do have courage," he mused with faux amazement.

"What did you expect? I'm a United States Marine."

"Its exactly what I expected. I appreciate the marine mentality," they rounded the corner, passing by an energetic night club. Taking her arm roughly, he pondered the group, "Look at these people. Tell me what you see."

"They look like kids who want to have a good time."

"To me, they look like the walking dead."

They finally made it to the apartment Sadik commandeered. He led her in and instantly began making demands, "Give me your purse. Take off your coat. Thank you."

She complied, handing him her clutch and removing her scarf as she slowly walked about the small apartment. He dug through her bag, removing a small hand gun.

"Is this your only weapon?" he showed it to her.

Sarcastically raising her arms from her sides, she asked, "Do you see any place I could hide one? Don't you want to search me?

"Lower your arms," Sadik commanded, "Try to behave with the dignity I'm sure your grandmother had."

"You wouldn't have liked my grandmother, Sadik. She refused to wear the hijab. And she would have been very proud that an Iranian woman, a Muslim, accepted the Nobel Peace Prize last year without wearing the head scarf," she picked up a magazine from the credenza beside her, gesturing to the smiling woman on the cover.

He snatched the magazine from Mac's hand, "An atrocity. An insult to the devout of Islam."

"What you did to Van Duyn was an atrocity," she countered, "That is the future."

"Ah, yes. You wish for equality between men and women. Well, now see where that equality has gotten you, Sarah? There is no man here to protect you, because you've stepped out of your place in society."

"If I'm so unprotected, why are you holding a gun on me?" Mac seemed to be doing the taunting now, "Do I have the right to use the bathroom?"

He gestured toward the sleeping area, where she began to walk, almost tripping on the body of a young man.

"Another atrocity?" she mused.

"A martyr," he corrected, "It seems it was his time."

She pivoted quickly, "Oh, and that's for you to decide?"

"The bathroom is there. Leave the door open," he demanded.

Once she returned, he led Mac over to the window, pointing at the same night club they passed by earlier, "Look at the decadence of that place. Do you approve of the drinking? The drugs?"

She turned to look at the disguised man, "I approve of their freedom to choose."

"To me, they're worse than infidels. They have strayed from the path and lost their faith."

"What are you here for, Sadik?" she asked curiously.

"25 years ago this month. does that mean anything to you?"

"25 years... The Iranian Revolution. The fall of the Shah and the Peacock Throne."

"Very good. When I was nine years old, I saw Ruhollah Khomeini in person and a vision opened up within me of a world of justice and peace, Sarah, under Islam. And a few months later, my father was murdered at the hands of the Shah's secret police. And I found myself walking the streets of Tehran alone, past the people in their rich attire in their Mercedes, and their- their nightclubs."

"And you hated them," she surmised.

"Forty days after my father was killed, again I was in the streets, but this time, I was in the vanguard of a great army. Tehran was in flames. the war had begun."

"And now the armies in Tehran are pro-Western, and want reform," she finally came away from the window and sat on the sofa, "Time and history are against you."

"Your sense of history is shortsighted. Would you like to know the secret of America's downfall? Here, everything is for sale. Your government goes to the Middle East to look for weapons of mass destruction. Everyone knows the weapons are here, and, like everything else, they can be bought here."

"And diamonds are better than money."

"Greed is the one human weakness that can always be exploited."

"Are you above greed? Is there anything that you would give up your jihad for?"

"Are you making me an offer, Sarah?" Sadik inquired, hearing seduction in her words.

"Do I have something you want?"

"You are an intelligent, beautiful woman. All men want..."

She cut him off, "All men want what?"

"What their mothers could never give them," he continued mysteriously.

"What do you want?"

"I want... Tea. Make it for me."

"Like a good Muslim woman," she picked up the tea kettle from the stove's burner, turning it to gauge how much water was inside, "So what's next, Sadik? Convert me to Islam?"

"You revealed yourself to me when we were in Paraguay, Sarah. You were pretending to be a man's wife, pretending to carry a child. But when I saw through the illusion I realized... You are pretending to be a woman. You are without a husband, without children. You live a barren life in a prison of fear."

"And you've come to set me free," she scoffed, knowing just how misinformed he truly was.

"I have helped many others to understand that only in Islam can you be truly free."

"Free to do what? Cover every inch of my body, never leave the house?"

"If you lived a true Muslim life, then, yes, you would be free in your soul. And you'd still have all your strength, but also you would have purity. You would wear the hijab and live with dignity, not dress like a whore, and live like one. I'm offering you a choice, Sarah. If you want to live like those people in the nightclub below, then the only purification you can hope for is death."

"But you'd want to humiliate me first," she said with a cynical smile, "Torture me. Once you'd convinced yourself that I'm a whore, maybe then you'd find your manhood, Sadik. You wouldn't be afraid of this body. You could use me and throw me away."

She picked the steaming kettle up from the flame, and Sadik took a step back.

"Be careful."

"You're afraid... Of a woman making tea. I'm beginning to understand that what attracts you to me is the same thing that angers you- my independence. Those kids in the nightclub are free to choose how they want to live, and you can't stand that. So what are you going to do, kill them?" she finished pouring the hot water into the tea kettle and added the tea leaves, looking up with surprise and realization, "My God, you are."

"The direction your country is taking defines the direction I must take."

"You plan to attack a nightclub full of innocent people?" she accused in disgust, as she rounded the corner of the kitchen counter.

"No one in America is innocent!" Sadik exploded in rage, "Wake up, Sarah! Isn't yours a government of and by its people? So when your government kills from a great distance, with their smart bombs and their missiles in the most cowardly manner, isn't the blood that's shed on your hands and theirs? You believe in the death penalty, yes? So do I. 9/11 was only the beginning."

"You equate blowing up a nightclub with 9/11? Oh, I could see the Stinger missiles in Paraguay. Blowing a civilian airliner out of the sky with U.S.-made missiles- cowardly, but dramatic. Slaughtering a bunch of kids while you watch from a distance? You're scraping the bottom, Sadik." she goaded, "Your tea's ready."

"The bomb in the nightclub isn't my mission. I wanted you to witness it so you would believe the truth that you are not safe unless you are under my protection. I can strike anywhere I desire. Here, or in your JAG parking lot, or at the heart of America," he confirmed, "Perhaps you are familiar with the term, 'permissive action link'."

"Yes," she stood and faced him, "I know what that is. It's the triggering device for a nuclear weapon. Do you have one?"

"Soon," he chuckled, "From your arsenal, bought and paid for with your diamonds."

"Who's it for?"

"Someone who will put it to good use. Do you see how you need me to protect you?"

"So somebody has a nuke, but they don't have the PAL to set it off. Where are you getting it from?"

"I've said enough."

"I am impressed. Just bombing a nightclub seemed out of character for you. So when is this going to happen?"

He checked his watch, "In less than ten minutes."

"Ten minutes," she placed her hand on his arm, "Sadik, how can I make you call this off? What can I do? There... There must be something."

A siren wailing in the distance caught both of their attentions.

"What is that?" he demanded.

"What's what?"

Sadik ran to the window, watching an armada of police cars descend on the night club and begin to evacuate the people. Mac stood up a few feet behind him, stepping out of her heels.

"What have you done?" he pulled her gun from his breast pocket, "Don't lie to me."

He was aghast to find her removing a button from its hole, revealing a wire taped to her skin. Before he could react, she kicked the weapon out of his grasp and kneed him in the gut, only for him to throw her down on one of the couches. She instinctively lifted her knee and landed a hard blow that launched him across the living area, picking herself up to move closer to him.

"I'm not weak," she punched him square in the jaw, "And I'm not barren, and I'm not a whore!"

Getting one more punch in, he grabbed her, locking his arm around her neck until she elbowed him in the chest. He was up quickly, back-handing her hard enough to knock her to the adjacent armchair. She reached for the gun that had landed next to her chair, trading a few more blows before she picked it up. They simultaneously pointed weapons at each other, hers going off first. She'd winged him.

"That was for Harm," she stood over him as he sat up, blood dripping from his shoulder wound. She let off another shot, hitting him dead in between his eyes, "This one's for Clayton Webb."

A squad of heavily armored police officers swarmed in the apartment, just after her second shot rang out. Radio communication chattered in the background as she was ordered to stand down. Handing her weapon to Deputy Director Kershaw, she informed him that it was over. Sadik Fahd was dead. Kershaw secured her weapon and picked up her coat, draping it over her shoulders. She looked down at the body that used to be Sadik Fahd and apologized to Kershaw for killing him, aware that they may never know who Sadik was getting the PAL from.

On her way out, she passed a full length mirror, taking a long look, she mused almost audibly, "I'm not sorry."

She made it back to her car, then closed it and locked it before letting the first tear fall. After a few minutes, she pulled herself together, turned the key in the ignition, and headed toward Union Station.

Knocking lightly on the door, then testing the handle, Mac found it unlocked. She let herself in and found Harm pacing the floor with their almost unconscious child held closely on his shoulder. He stopped dead in his tracks, seeing Mac turn around after closing the door, dried blood on her face, some still trickling from a split lip and bruises already forming.

"Sadik is dead," was all she said before he'd crossed the room and enveloped her in his arms.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, pulling back slightly.

She shook her head and shrugged off her coat, before taking the boy from his father's arms and moving over to the couch. She tucked her feet up under herself after gently slipping off her shoes, and snuggled the now wide awake infant.

"Nothing that a little ice and a hot shower won't fix," she insisted.

He disappeared into his bedroom for a minute, coming back out with a first aid kit and a cloth. He deposited the kit on the table and walked over to the sink to wet the cloth under warm water. Dropping down next to Mac, Harm gently applied the cloth to the cut on her lip, eliciting a wince and sharp intake of breath. After cleaning the blood off her face, he applied a tiny amount of ointment, then got up to retrieve ice from the freezer.

The presence of his mother had Matt rooting furiously, demanding a feeding. She felt guilt almost instantly. She'd all but abandoned her defenseless child. He'd never taken to bottles and refused them every time she offered, he must be starving. Slipping the top two buttons out of their eyelets, she shifted her bra strap, letting it slide down her arm, and offered her breast to the frenzied little boy. The apartment was blanketed in silence as he fed greedily.

Harm returned, handing her the towel filled with ice, slightly unnerved by her sudden quiet, "Bastard really did a number on you. Wrecked your shirt and you already have visible bruises..."

He brushed her bare, shoulder which was slowly changing color before his eyes, examining the rest of her exposed skin for more injuries.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't come close to what I did to him," she said in a low voice, picking at a few bits of tape left over from the wire she'd been wearing.

Harm looked at her sympathetically, "Mac, you did what you had to do. If you hadn't-"

"I didn't have to," she looked him dead in the eyes, "I disabled him first. Shot him in the dominant arm. I was angry. He called me weak, and barren... And a whore. He almost killed Webb, and he essentially admitted to trying to kill you in the parking lot."

A flood of emotions washed over his face, as he moved closer to her, pulling her to his chest. Anger for not being there to protect her, hearing the crude words she had hurled at her. Pride that she held her own against an international terrorist. Fear that there would be repercussions if someone found out she'd gone beyond what was necessary to apprehend Sadik. Jealousy that she was avenging Webb when she shot him. Love for this amazing woman, his best friend, the mother of his child, and the owner of his heart.