Thanks to all who reviewed - you were all quite kind about that chapter and I appreciate it. The pace of the story will be picking up; however, as Christmas draws closer (Am I done shopping? No. Christmas cards out? No. Christmas baking? hahahaha - No.), the pace of my posting will probably slow down a bit. Those of you who celebrate this holiday know how crazy it can get. I promise to do the best I can and I hope y'all will be patient. Thanks and on with the story!

Chapter 14

Tuesday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

1430 Local

Matt threw some more debris into the wheelbarrow. He'd bought it on Monday after the storm and, as far as he was concerned, it had already paid for itself. The ground was too wet to bring the tractor over and the wheelbarrow was filling in nicely. Gathering up one more armful, he put that in the barrow, too. Deciding it was full enough, he grabbed the handles and headed for the corner of the property he'd designated as the compost area. Dumping the load, he walked back towards the remains of the old oak. The lightning strike had done what he and Harm had been planning to do later. The problem was that it was considerably messier than what they would have accomplished. Matt was still planning on acquiring a chainsaw. Some of the larger branches were too heavy to move and were large enough to cut into firewood. They'd been down long enough to dry out and Matt figured they'd be safe to use in the fireplace this winter.

As he headed back, Matt caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he watched a dog trot across the back of the property. It seemed to know where it was going and Matt shrugged, continuing on his way. It probably belonged to someone in the subdivision. He had filled the barrow about halfway again when he heard his name being called. Straightening up, he turned towards the house and smiled, waving a hand. Mattie was walking towards him from the corner of the house. He'd been a little nervous about dealing with a teenager on his own - Sarah had been his last experience - but so far, things were going well. They were taking turns with the cooking chores, trying different recipes out on each other. Mattie seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. "How was school?" he asked when she was close enough to hear.

"Okay." Mattie made a face, "History's been pretty boring, though." She pointed over his shoulder, "Who's your friend?"

Confused, Matt turned around. Sitting quietly, watching the two of them was the dog he'd seen earlier. It was a medium sized female, black and white with tan accents on her head. "I think she's from the subdivision. I saw her going by earlier."

"She's cute." Mattie moved a little past Matt and squatted down, gesturing, "Come here, girl." The dog studied her for a moment before getting up and trotting over. As she got closer to Mattie, she slowed down, dropping her head and practically crawling the last few steps. "Awww," Mattie knelt down and gathered the dog in her lap. She looked up at Matt, "No collar, maybe she's a stray. Can we keep her?"

Matt rubbed a hand over his head, "Mattie, she probably belongs to someone."

"Well, maybe she's lost. We could put signs out and see if anyone's looking for her," Mattie argued reasonably. "I'd hate to send her on her way and have her get hit by a car or something." Petting the dog's head, she turned it towards Matt, "Look at that face. How can you resist?"

Matt sighed as he squatted down and reached out a hand to let the dog sniff. She was obviously a mix, short-coated except for a wiry beard under her chin. Her build and coloring was reminiscent of a border collie with black extending from her muzzle to her tail and a white underside and ruff. There were tan spots above each eye and tan along the sides of her muzzle fading into the white. She licked his hand, her tail thumping slowly. Matt looked up a hopeful Mattie, "Okay, but don't get attached. I'm sure her family's looking for her."

"Thank you!" Mattie flung an arm around his neck and kissed his cheek. "I'll go make some signs right now." She turned towards the house, patting her leg, "Come on, girl."

The dog looked at her and then at Matt. He pointed towards Mattie, "Go on." To his surprise, the dog turned and trotted obediently after the teenager. Matt shook his head. The dog definitely belonged to someone. He went back to work. He was nearly finished except for the pieces that needed to cut up and he'd managed to drag the smaller ones over enough to get them in one group. His next project would be trimming off low-hanging branches on the trees closer in. He didn't want anything obstructing his view or offering concealment near the house.

Forty-five minutes later, he walked into the kitchen. It was Mattie's turn to cook and she was planning on making tacos. He wasn't surprised to find the dog lying on a towel near the kitchen table, her head between her paws. He was surprised to find Bill and Purrl Bailey sitting with tails neatly curled about three feet from the dog at right angles to her and each other. He gestured towards the animals, "What's this?"

Mattie looked over her shoulder and shrugged, "They've been like that for the last twenty minutes or so. I think they're contacting the Mother Ship."

Matt shook his head, chuckling as he walked over to the sink. Washing and drying his hands, he reached around Mattie to pluck a finger-full of shredded cheese. She slapped at his hand, "Stop that. Dinner will be ready soon enough."

Grinning, he popped the cheese into his mouth and walked back to the kitchen table. Picking up one of the signs Mattie had been making, he studied it. All it said was, 'Found, Female dog' and their phone number. He looked back at Mattie, "Kind of sparse on information, isn't it?"

She turned to look at him, "I want to make sure whoever calls actually knows the dog. I don't want someone claiming her and then selling her to a lab or something."

"You're kidding," Matt's eyebrows rose, appalled at the thought. He sat down. A minute later, the dog was sitting beside him, resting her head on his leg and staring up at him. He stroked her head and scratched behind her ears, smiling as she began 'talking' to him, "Had a tough day, girl?"

Mattie grinned to herself as she continued to prepare dinner, putting aside some ground beef for the dog. They would have to go by a store tonight and pick up some dog food and other necessities. Somehow she didn't think Matt would object. Hopefully no one would claim the dog because it was apparent the dog had staked a claim on Uncle Matt.

Wednesday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

2130 Local

The orchestra music filled the grand ballroom as the assorted guests, dignitaries and sundry diplomats took to the dance floor. Harm and Mac moved easily through the crowd. Since their arrival in Bacovia, everything had been practically idyllic. Regular phone calls home had confirmed that nothing untoward had happened in their absence. Gradually, they'd been able to let go of the worry and enjoy themselves. She looked up at the smile plastered across his face and smiled herself, "You look happy."

Harm pulled her in a little tighter and planted a quick kiss on her nose, "I am, Mrs. Rabb. Believe me, I am."

Mac's grin widened, "It seems like a fairy tale, doesn't it? All those years and now here we are, on our honeymoon, dancing in the grand ballroom of a castle filled with royalty."

Harm leaned down for another quick kiss, "Here's to happy endings."

"Happy beginnings," Mac countered as she rested her head on his shoulder. He was the perfect height, she mused as they danced and then laughed at herself for the silly path her thoughts were taking. They continued to move to the music, making another circuit of the ballroom before the song ended. They broke apart, although Harm kept hold of Mac's hand, "How about something to drink?

"Sounds good," Mac smiled up at him. They made their way to the side where a table of refreshments stood and Harm poured them both some punch. Sipping their drinks, they watched the crowd swirl by as the orchestra began playing again. Mac smiled as she watched Pick and Mo Dzurick dance by and looked up at Harm, "They look good together, don't they?"

"I think 'besotted' is probably a better word," Harm said wryly. "Pick's got it bad."

"Mo's not much better," Mac smiled in return, turning back to watch the colorful scene. She shivered suddenly, instinctively clutching Harm's sleeve.

Surprised, Harm swept his gaze around the area before lowering his head towards Mac, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, taking a deep breath. After a second or two, she gave him a weak smile, "Sorry, I think it was just a moment of deja vu." When he raised an eyebrow, she sighed and lowered her voice, "This reminds me of the ball I attended with Avis. I was chatting with Corinna and watching the dancing when that lunatic woman, Mary Patrick, attacked me." She shook her head again, "It's just a memory."

Harm looked at her somewhat skeptically, "Are you sure? This isn't... "

"No, I don't think so," Mac answered firmly. "Really, Harm, I'm good." Determinedly, she looked back at the crowd and nodded, "There's your parents. They're an elegant couple, aren't they? They fit right in with this crowd."

"Uh-huh," Harm grinned and nudged Mac, pointing out Tink, Maggie, Gunny Walters and Robyn. Both men dwarfed their wives, although Tink made everyone around him look small. "So when did ballroom dancing become part of Marine boot camp? They're both pretty light on their feet."

Mac raised an eyebrow at him, "Now why does that seem like a dig at the Corps? Are you suggesting something, Navy?"

Harm put a hand to his chest, his expression innocent, "Whatever do you mean? I was just making an observation."

"Yeah, right," Mac lightly slapped his arm, "Watch it, sailor, before we start discussing Naval history."

"Married only a week and already the beatings have started."

Hearing the warm baritone, Harm and Mac turned to find Gheorghe and Carol smiling at them. Mindful of public protocol, Harm bowed while Mac dropped a curtsy, "Your Majesties."

"It's 'Highnesses' now," Gheorghe corrected mildly with a look at Carol, "Queen Margarete is now on the throne."

"Yes, Your Highness," Harm smiled as he bowed once again before relaxing a bit, "How does it feel to be retired?"

Gheorghe glanced over at Carol again and smiled, "Surprisingly light. I know Bacovia's in good hands."

Mac tilted her head, "WIll you stay here in the capital?"

Carol nodded, "For a while. Cat's been preparing for this almost from birth but I suspect she won't mind having her father's experience close at hand until she settles in. After that, we'll probably move to the summer palace. I'm looking forward to it."

"And the rest of the kids?" Mac asked.

"Well, as you know, Mo has to return to the US to finish her senior year and then whatever posting she's given. El will come with us but Nicky has asked to stay here with Cat. We've given our permission and Cat has agreed as well." Carol couldn't help sighing a little.

Mac regarded her sympathetically, "They're all growing up. I guess it's hard watching them leave the nest."

Carol smiled ruefully, "I'm beginning to understand what my mother went through. I know it's inevitable but it's still going to take some getting used to."

"You'll manage," Mac gave her a warm smile, "You've got good kids."

"Yes, we do," Gheorghe agreed and then cleared his throat, "Mrs. Rabb, may I have this next dance?" He glanced at Harm, his eyes twinkling, "If your husband does not object?"

Surprised, Mac blushed a little before giving him a dazzling smile, "I'd be honored, your Highness."

Amused, Harm watched the crowd melt away from Gheorghe as he escorted Mac onto the floor, giving the former King a respectful distance. Mac was never comfortable being the center of attention and now every eye was on her and Gheorghe. He glanced over at Carol and offered his arm, "Would your Highness care to dance as well?"

"I'd love to," Carol grinned up at him. They joined the throng and were soon chatting amicably as Harm moved them effortlessly around the floor. Halfway through the dance, the lights in the ballroom flickered. Harm and Carol, as well as almost everyone in the room, glanced upward. At that moment, a blinding flash went off, filling the entire room with an intense white light before dimming to near darkness.

"Son of a... " Harm ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut and then blinking rapidly. He could barely see. "Carol?" He still had a hold of one of her hands.

"I can't see. What happened?"

"I don't know, an electrical short?" Harm raised his head, squinting through watery eyes. Almost as if on cue, another flash went off and Harm groaned, dropping his head and covering his eyes with his free hand. From the cries around him, he knew he wasn't the only one to suffer from that second intense light. This time it felt like someone had shoved a needle into each eye. Abruptly, the lights in the ballroom went out entirely, plunging everything into pitch blackness. While it lessened the pain in his eyes, it was also like having a bag over his head. He was completely blinded. Harm fought against the panic of not being able to see at all.

A few seconds later, Carol gave a surprised yelp that was quickly cut off. At the same time, her hand was yanked out of Harm's grasp. Alarmed, he turned towards the sound only to take a vicious blow to the midsection that nearly brought him to his knees. He was still trying to get air back in his lungs when his arms were yanked behind him. In a matter of seconds, he'd been gagged and bound and was being dragged forward. Harm started to struggle, trying to delay his captors. It earned him a hard blow to the side of his knee that buckled his entire leg. Harm's scream was muffled by the gag.

His captors hurried forward again. Harm limped along as fast as he could. Someone was holding the rope tied to his wrists and every stumble wrenched his arms upward, sending a shooting pain through his shoulders. It also earned him a sharp jab to the ribs from one side or the other that left him gasping. A change in sound and air pressure told Harm they'd left the ballroom. His eyes still weren't working properly. The two men holding him stopped and tried to force him to his knees. He fought against it as much on principle as on the fact that he didn't think he could get his injured knee to bend. His resistance earned him a powerful fist to the stomach that folded him over. A club landed across his shoulders next and he stumbled, still unwilling to kneel. Harm thought he heard a muttered oath just before something hard connected with the back of his head and he collapsed in a boneless heap.

o o o o o

Wednesday,

FBI HQ

Los Angeles, CA

1050 Local

Don Eppes looked up from his computer at a sudden commotion near the elevators and frowned. Ian Edgerton had just exited, hauling a large man who was looking decidedly worse for wear. Don glanced at the rest of his team and stood up as Edgerton headed towards him, "Hey Ian, what's going on?" He could feel a familiar knot of unease settling in his stomach. There had to be a reason Edgerton was bringing his prisoner over instead of taking him straight to booking and chances were, it wasn't good.

Ian moved past him towards one of the interrogation rooms, "You need to hear this, Eppes."

Mystified and even more on edge, Don followed him. Megan, David and Colby exchanged looks and headed for the observation room. Don shut the door and turned around in time to see Ian sit his prisoner none too gently in a chair. Folding his arms, Don frowned, "What's going on?"

"Meet Drew Letiro," Edgerton lightly slapped the back of the man's head. "He's a subcontractor for Rashnu Enterprises." He slapped the back of Letiro's head again, "Tell Agent Eppes what you've been doing, Drew."

"I haven't - ", Drew ducked as Ian raised his hand again. He turned desperately to Don, "Look, it was a job. I was just following orders."

Don regarded him stonily, "Following orders to do what?"

"He had people trying to tail me." Ian snorted derisively, "I followed one back to another and finally back to this guy." He poked Letiro on the shoulder, "Tell Agent Eppes who else you were watching."

"It was a couple of lawyers, that's all," Drew kept a wary eye on Edgerton. He cringed as Ian straightened a little, "Military lawyers in DC, okay?"

Don stiffened, "Rabb and MacKenzie?" When Letiro reluctantly nodded, he took a step forward, scowling, "Why?"

"It was a job! I don't ask why. It's none of my business. All we do is report what the subjects are doing." Drew looked nervously around the room. He shot a quick glance at Ian and blurted out, "I want a lawyer!"

Don looked at Ian, "What's he charged with?"

"Is stupid a crime?" Ian grunted, while glaring at Letiro. He looked at Don, "He took a shot at me."

"I didn't know who you were! I thought you were some thug coming to rob me!" Drew whined.

Don folded his arms, while raising an eyebrow, "You didn't recognize the guy you were contracted to spy on? Try again. Attempted murder of a Federal agent is pretty damn serious."

Drew blanched at the words 'attempted murder', "Look, can't we make a deal or something? I didn't hurt anybody."

"Except for trying to kill me," Edgerton growled.

"And putting Col. MacKenzie in the hospital when NCIS busted up your little operation," Don added. At Ian's surprised look, Don pointed at Letiro, "A week before the wedding, Mac called NCIS because she thought her apartment was bugged. They found them and the guy listening on the other end. When they went back to the apartment, Mac was on the floor. The doctors suspected some sort of electrical shock. Their investigation hit a dead end. The guy they picked up couldn't give them anything." He glared at Letiro who stared back wide-eyed, "So what the hell did you do?"

Letiro open and shut his mouth a couple of times before he spluttered, "Nothing! Honest to God, nothing! We only observe."

Ian leaned in with a feral smile, "You know, attacking an active duty military officer might be considered terrorism. You could be on your way to Gitmo by morning."

"No! Wait, look, Ezekiel's the guy you want! The guy that hired me! That dude's a real whack job." He leaned in, "He wanted us to crash the wedding reception. When I told him we couldn't, he started asking about that coronation they're going to."

Don felt the hair rise up on his neck, "And?"

"And - I don't know," Letiro deflated. "He just seemed real interested in those two." He glanced at Ian half-defiantly, "He didn't give a rat's ass about you."

Don stifled a smile at the look on Edgerton's face. He tipped his head towards the door and Ian nodded. Edgerton growled 'stay put' at his prisoner before walking out the door. Don followed. They walked into the observation room where the rest of Don's team waited. Don looked at Megan and nodded back towards Letiro, "What do you think?"

Megan crossed her arms, frowning, "He's hiding something but I think he's telling the truth about Mac. He seemed honestly surprised."

Don nodded, "Yeah." He looked over at Colby and David, "See what we've got on this Ezekiel guy and - " he looked over at Ian.

"Rashnu Enterprises," Edgerton supplied. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "What coronation is he talking about and why are Rabb and MacKenzie going to it?"

"It's taking place in a little country east of the Balkans called Bacovia," Don explained, "It's a monarchy that was absorbed by the Soviet Union right after WWII. The royal family was granted refuge here in the US and the crown prince married an American. When the Soviet Union broke up, Bacovia regained its sovereignty and the royal family returned to power."

"O-kay, is this where I express my amazement at the depth of your knowledge of trivia? I usually expect this sort of stuff from the Professor." Ian leaned against a table and raised an eyebrow, "And I still don't know how Rabb and MacKenzie are involved."

"That crown prince who married the American became King and also had four children with dual citizenships. The oldest are a pair of identical twins - one is about to become Queen and the other is finishing her senior year at the US Naval Academy. Almost four years ago, there was an assassination plot against the royal family. Rabb and MacKenzie stopped it and they've been friends of the family ever since," Don finished.

Ian rolled his eyes, "Why doesn't that surprise me? What do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know yet but we'd better get a handle on this and quick," Don glanced at his watch, frowning. "Bacovia's what? Ten or so hours ahead of us?" He looked at Megan, "Do you remember when the coronation takes place?"

"Today, I think," Megan frowned as well, "Mac mentioned that the actual ceremony starts at noon but the partying would go on for the next three or four days."

"Do we have an Embassy we can contact?" Don frowned. They all turned when Colby walked back in, his expression grim.

"Uh-oh," Megan breathed quietly.

"What?" Don asked at the same time.

"Rashnu Enterprises is a private investigation firm here in LA. From what we can tell, its clientele tend to be high-rollers. The firm, on the other hand, is so low-profile that it's hard to find out much," Colby began, "According to its corporate charter, it's run by a man called Michael Ezekiel. Rashnu's got a reputation for getting the job done no matter what the consequences. They've never been in trouble officially but that seems to be more a matter of lack of evidence and uncooperative witnesses." He folded his arms, "The thing is Michael Ezekiel didn't exist until about five years ago."

"Is there any way to identify him?" Don asked.

Colby shrugged uncomfortably, "David's looking into it. We do have an Embassy in Bacovia, Should we contact them?"

"Not yet, we need something more concrete to tell them," Don shook his head. "Do we have any pictures of Ezekiel to run through the facial recognition program?"

"No, this guy is definitely off the grid. No driver's license, no personal credit cards, no cell phone and his home address is a PO box," Colby raised his hands and then let them drop.

"We have one way to identify him," Ian broke in as he straightened up. "We've got ourselves an eyewitness." He moved towards the interrogation room. Don, Colby and Megan exchanged looks before following him.