THE NEXT MORNING
RUSSIAN MILITARY TRANSPORT PLANE
SOMEWHERE OVER RUSSIA
After a tense dinner and night, Harm and Mac were both very tired and restless when they got up to meet Captain Volkonov, neither having gotten much sleep the night before. With hardly a word between them, they changed into the cold weather gear Volkonov had brought for them and departed for Vnukova Military Air Field, where they boarded the flight that would take them to Grozny. They were seated at the very rear of the plane, where they could discuss their plans with little chance of being overheard.
"Major Sokol has arranged for a vehicle for us to use," Volkonov was telling them, holding up a map of the region while Harm and Mac looked over his shoulders. "However, there are problems. Many roads, where there are roads, are in bad repair. Also, many have been mined. The local garrison in Grozny will provide us with another map which shows the specific areas they believe to be mined. Anyway, if Sergeant Zhukov is trying to stay out of sight, he would probably stay off the roads with the renewed fighting in the area."
"Where exactly did Sergei's helicopter go down?" Mac asked.
"Here," Volkonov replied, pointing to a mark on the map. He moved his finger as he pointed out the cities. "Here is Grozny to the north and Uras-Martan just south of where he went down. Since most of the troops moving north, it is believed that he will head north to Grozny."
"But wouldn't Uras-Martan be closer?" Harm asked, studying the map.
"Only if he wanted to be captured," was the reply. "It's a small village and there's not much of an Army presence there. And the Chechens would love to get their hands on a Russian soldier they could make an example of."
Harm and Mac both shuddered at the thought. Considering the reports they had heard of how Russians had tortured and killed Chechens, neither doubted that the Chechens would be any less brutal in return.
"About how long would it take to travel on foot from where he went down to Grozny?" Mac asked.
"If he could walk straight into Grozny, less than half a day," Volkonov replied, "even at this time of year. But he has been missing for four days. Anything could have happened – he got lost, had to divert to avoid the rebels, been captured or killed."
"He's still alive," Harm said with an air of certainty.
"Perhaps," Volkonov murmured, a bit more realistic.
Mac smiled, trying to assure them all. "If Sergei's anything like his father and brother," she stated, "then he has to be alive. Stubbornness and determination in the face of impossible odds are, I'm convinced, Rabb family characteristics."
A voice called Captain Volkonov's name from the front of the plane and he excused himself, leaving Harm and Mac alone. Tentatively, afraid of being rebuffed, Mac reached out and took one of Harm's gloved hands in hers. "Harm, we will find him," she said. "We found where your father had been, didn't we, despite the odds? We just have to have faith."
"I know," he replied softly, surprising her by not pulling away. "I am just. . . .I don't want this to turn out like that did."
She squeezed his hand comfortingly and continued, "It's okay to be scared. I am, too. But Harm. . . ." she trailed off, uncertain about the wisdom of getting into touchy areas, but she forged ahead, "I know a lot has happened between us and much of it recently hasn't been good. But you can count on me to listen and to be there for you, even when you try to push me away. I. . . .care too much about you to let you push me away. You've always been able to count on me and you always will."
Harm looked down at their joined hands, not quite sure how to respond. Why did everything have to be so complicated? "I guess maybe it is a good thing that the Admiral sent you after me again," he admitted reluctantly.
Mac smiled at the admission, seeing it as progress, however small. But she felt compelled to correct him. "Harm, the Admiral didn't send me after you," she said.
Harm looked up sharply, but before he could ask for clarification, Volkonov rejoined them. "We'll be landing in about thirty minutes," he told them, folding the map and stashing it back in his bag. "We'll be met at the air field by an assistant to the mayor who will be our contact. In addition to the vehicle, he'll also provide us with sleeping bags, blankets and supplies in addition to any updated information on Sergeant Zhukov's whereabouts."
"Captain, thank you for your assistance," Harm said, offering his hand. "I can't imagine this mission is officially sanctioned by the Russian Army."
"No," he replied, shaking the offered hand firmly, "but when Major Sokol asked, I was glad to help. You helped me, Commander, when I went after General Krylov."
"Where is Krylov, by the way?" Mac asked. She hadn't heard anything since they had left Russia the last time.
"At Lubyanka still," Volkonov told her, "trying to trade interesting stories for his life, but I expect he will eventually be executed as an example of what happens to traitors." Harm and Mac shuddered, remembering how that had nearly been Sergei's fate. Both prayed that they would be able to save him this time.
+++
Mac was looking out the window as they landed at the makeshift air strip just outside Grozny. "My God," she exclaimed as she got her first look at Chechnya's capital. "There's not much left to the city." The sight before her reminded her of photos she had seen of bombed out German cities after World War II.
"No," Volkonov said. "The Russian Army even had difficulty finding a suitable building to house the commandant, given the damage to most of the buildings. Many of the people live in basements. The government is saying it probably will not rebuild, leaving the city as an example."
Both Harm and Mac remained quiet, not wanting to risk getting into an idealogical debate with the man who was risking so much to help them. All three were silent as the plane came to a stop and the other passengers disembarked. Once everyone else was out, they made their way to the front of the plane and down the steps to the ground.
A man in his mid-forties stepped forward in a long coat and the traditional fur cap. "Dabro pazhalavat Groznyj," he said, holding out his hand to Captain Volkonov. "Menia suvat Vasili Ivanovich Meinov." Welcome to Grozny. My name is Vasili Ivanovich Meinov.
"Zdrastvuitye," Volkonov replied, shaking the man's hand. "Menia suvat Kapitan Andrei Nikolaiovich Volkonov. Eta Harmon Rabb i Sarah Mackenzie." Hello. My name is Captain Andrei Nikolaiovich Volkonov. This is Harmon Rabb and Sarah Mackenzie.
"Zdrastvuitye," Vasili said as he shook Harm's hand then kissed Mac's cheek, eyeing her up and down. Noticing the man's interest, Harm put an arm around Mac's waist as a subtle message. Shrugging, Vasili led them to a nearby car, Harm and Mac climbing into the back seat while Volkonov got into the front seat. Mac tried not to read too much into the arm that had been put around her, but she couldn't help taking it as another sign that maybe all wasn't lost on that front.
"Nikokoy vadityel'?" Volkonov asked as Vasili drove away from the air strip. No driver?
"Moy vadityel' ubival v bombe mashyne na proshlay nedele," he replied. Harm looked at Mac questioningly.
Mac felt slightly comforted that Harm appeared to be warming up towards her. Softly, she explained, "Captain Volkonov asked where Mr. Meinov's driver is and he said that the driver was killed in a car bombing last week."
"You do not speak Russian, Mr. Rabb?" Vasili asked, switching to English.
"No, but I'm trying to learn," Harm replied, only mildly that the man spoke English. He had picked up some Russian language books after his last trip, but after two months, he was still having a hard time getting past the Cyrillic alphabet. "But Mac speaks Russian."
"Who is Mac?"
"That's me," Mac interjected. "It's the short form of my family name. You speak very good English, Mr. Meinov."
"Thank you and please, call me Vasi," he replied. "I worked in the Russian embassy in London for a year."
"How'd you end up here?" Harm asked, astonished at the change from London to Grozny.
"The government tells me to go, I go," he replied, shrugging. "The government needed Russian officials down here. We do not get to chose where we go. Much like the American military officer who comes to Chechnya to search for his brother."
Harm and Mac looked startled that Vasi apparently knew so much about them. Seeing their expressions in the rear view mirror, he explained, "Major Sokol and I went to university together. We are like brothers. That is why he asked that I help you. You can trust me as you would trust him."
Harm looked like he was about to say something to that when Mac shook her head. Lowering her voice so that only he could hear her, she reminded him, "We wouldn't have gotten this far without Mark's help, remember?"
"True," Harm admitted reluctantly. He hated having to rely on Sokol for anything, but he would do anything to find his brother.
+++
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
"I've just heard from Major Sokol," Clay announced. "He heard from his contact in Grozny. Harm and Mac are on their way with Captain Volkonov to the site where Sergei's helicopter went down. From there, they plan to see if they can track Sergei back towards Grozny."
"How does Major Sokol plan to keep track of three people in the middle of a war zone?" Mic demanded.
"They have a battery powered radio with them that will allow them to keep in touch with Vasili Meinov, their contact in Grozny," Clay replied. "That way they can be passed information that may help them find Sergei or they can radio out for help. Unfortunately, there is another problem."
"What is it, Webb?" AJ asked, slightly exasperated.
"Despite Russian claims of victory and the beginning of a troop pullout," Clay reported, "there has been increased fighting in and around Grozny. The rebels have been bombing troop convoys, government offices in the city, the cars of public officials, homes of Russian officials." Mic blanched at the thought of Mac being caught in the middle of that, despite her military training and time in Bosnia. AJ looked angry that Clay was just now telling them this.
"Webb, I. . . ." AJ began angrily, stopping when his intercom buzzed. He pressed a button. "Tiner, I thought I asked not to be disturbed."
"Sorry, Sir, but I've got the SecNav on line one," Tiner replied.
Punching another button, AJ picked up the handset and said, his voice calmer, "Good morning, Mr. Secretary. What can. . . ."
"AJ, I just returned from the Far East and read an interesting story in the Washington Post about an MIA Russian Army soldier who just happens to be the son of an American Vietnam War POW," the SecNav said. "Now, if this story is true, considering the events of a few years ago, I wanted to make sure that this soldier's brother and his partner don't get any ideas into their heads about taking another 'vacation' in Moscow."
This was the moment AJ had been dreading, when he would have to explain Harm and Mac's absence. Taking a deep breath, he replied carefully, "The story is true, Mr. Secretary. Sergeant Sergei Zhukov apparently is the son of Lieutenant Harmon Rabb, Sr. However, Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie have been gone on assignment since before that article came out. Unless someone called and informed them, which I know I didn't, then they probably don't even know what has happened."
"Good, let's try and keep it that way," SecNav said, hanging up.
Mic breathed a sigh of relief. He saw AJ's misdirection of the SecNav as an indication that he wasn't quite prepared to accept Harm and Mac's resignations yet. "Thank you, Sir," he said as AJ hung up his phone.
"Don't thank me yet, Brumby," AJ retorted. "I'm only willing to give them leeway up to a point. I still haven't decided what I'm going to do, so I'm not about to go around telling people they've resigned."
"AJ, if that's all, then I need to get back to Langley," Clay said, standing.
"Webb. . . ."
"I know and I will contact you as soon as I know more," he replied. As soon as he left, AJ studied Mic, whom he thought looked haggard. "How are you doing, Mic?"
"I'm worried about Sarah being in the middle of a war," he admitted. "I didn't get much sleep last night, worrying about what might happen. And I wish. . . ." he trailed off, looking at AJ sadly. "I wish I could understand why she felt she had to do this, especially now that, well, two days before she left, she had finally moved the ring over."
AJ was shocked. He hadn't known that and the knowledge added a whole new dimension to the situation. But he had long since stopped trying to figure out this particular tangled web. "Normally, I would say congratulations," AJ began, "but that hardly seems to fit right now. As for why, I don't think anyone can really explain Harm and Mac's relationship, maybe not even them." And maybe that's part of the problem here, he thought.
Mic considered for a moment, then asked, "Sir, can you tell me about their first trip to Russia? Mr. Webb was talking about it yesterday and. . . .well, I thought it might help me understand."
AJ hesitated. This was something Mic should really be discussing with Mac, but she wasn't here. Seeing the determination in Mic's eyes, he asked, "Are you familiar with what happened to Rabb's father?"
"He was a pilot shot down in Vietnam and declared MIA, as I recall," Mic replied, remembering what little Mac had told him.
"Yes, shot down Christmas Eve 1969," AJ confirmed. "While Harm always hoped that his father had survived, he became convinced of that in late 1997. He and Mac had gone to California to investigate a body found in the hull of the USS Hornet, which was being scrapped. The body was that of an officer who had been killed during the last days of the Vietnam War by a Vietnamese officer who was being transported on board ship. The murder was over a book listing the names of American MIAs and POWs who had been transported to Russia during and after the war."
"I take it Harm's father's name was in this book?" Mic asked.
"So Rabb said," AJ replied. "The book was stolen from him and Mac after they escaped a fire on board the Hornet. The thief was an undercover ex-KGB agent who was looking to destroy the book the keep the truth from coming to light."
"And that would be Major Sokol," Mic concluded, recalling what Mac had told him of the man's background.
"Yes," AJ confirmed. He took off his glasses and tossed them on the desk with a sigh. "Rabb began developing contacts with Russia, determined to find his father now that he knew where to look, assuming the information in the book was true. A few months later, he was approached by a man offering to sell him information on his father's whereabouts. The man ended up murdered by another ex-KGB agent, a Colonel Parlovsky, but no one knew that at the time and the FBI suspected Harm. The Navy was conducting an Article 32 hearing when he escaped from the brig. He went to Mac, who had resigned to work for Dalton Lowne's firm." AJ paused, not sure how much Mic knew about Lowne.
Mic nodded, indicating he was aware of who Dalton was. AJ continued, "Mac ended up taking over his defense and got him off. That was the last I heard about it for several months, until Harm went to California supposedly to see his mother. While there, he met with a man, a former Russian Air Force officer, who had known his father in Russia. Apparently, after the Article 32 hearing, Colonel Parlovsky sent him a photo of his father taken in 1980 at a rail station in Siberia. Harm asked for leave to go to Russia to follow up. Since she speaks Russian, I sent Mac with him."
AJ noticed Mic start at that piece of information, but the other man didn't say anything. AJ went on, "They were approached by Major Sokol, who was convinced to find the KGB file on the senior Rabb. The file indicated that he had escaped shortly after the photo was taken in '80 from a place called Beloyka. The only flight there was cancelled, so Harm and Mac got their hands on a MiG-29, intending to fly to Beloyka themselves. Only someone set them up to steal that MiG and ordered them shot down so they couldn't discover the truth. They ejected, were rescued by gypsies and traveled to Perm, intending to take the train to Beloyka. But they were discovered in Perm by Major Sokol, who promised to help them find Harm's father.
"The Russian put out a story that they had been taking a pleasure ride in the MiG when they had run into a flock of geese, causing them to crash into a lake. Not buying the story, I traveled to Russia myself and was there when Sokol brought them back to Moscow. Turns out Parlovsky was the one who had ordered them shot down, but before he died, he told Harm to look in a village called Svischevo. Harm discovered that his father had died two years after his escape, saving Sergei's mother from Russian soldiers. That was apparently the end of it, until Harm discovered his brother's existence during his last trip to Russia."
"I see," Mic said, although that was only partially true. He certainly had a greater understanding of Harm's determination to find his brother. Harm's obsession made sense. What Mic still couldn't understand was why Mac would go so far for him. It gave him a lot to think about. "Sir, I appreciate your taking the time to tell me this."
"I'm sorry, Mic," AJ said sincerely. "I hope you find the answers you're looking for."
"Thank you, Sir," Mic replied, lost in thought as he stood and left the office. He went downstairs and walked outside to the courtyard, brushing the snow off before sitting at a table, trying to gather his thoughts.
So many things were going through his mind as he processed the story AJ had just told him. Why would she go to such lengths for Harm, a man who was supposedly just a friend? Even more importantly, would she do the same for him? That question bothered Mic the most of all. Granted, he didn't get into the same types of dangerous situations that Harm did, but it would be nice to know that the woman he loved and wanted to marry would go to the ends of the earth for him. Right now, he couldn't honestly say that he could answer that question in the affirmative.
"Commander Brumby?" a woman's voice asked. Mic looked up to see Harriet walking towards him, her hands stuffed in her coat pockets. "Isn't a little cold to be sitting out here?"
Mic stood and gave her a warm hug when she reached him. "It's just Mic now," he reminded her. "How are you doing, Harriet?"
She shrugged as she pulled away and sat down opposite him after brushing off another chair. "Okay, I guess," she replied, her voice distant. "I just. . . .there are days when it still doesn't seem real. And after the trail. . . ." she trailed off, looking down at her lap.
"I'm sure you and Bud will be able to work things out," Mic said, trying to offer what comfort he could. "You two have a good marriage, the kind I've always wanted to have."
Harriet looked up at him, sympathy in her eyes. "You're thinking about Colonel Mackenzie, aren't you, Sir?" she asked. "I know she went to Russia."
Mic looked at her, surprised. He hadn't been aware that anyone knew outside of him, Clay, AJ and presumably Renee. Harriet explained, "She called just before she left. She wasn't sure, with your work, if you would be able to take care of Jingo by yourself and asked Bud and I to help."
Mic suspected there was a little more to it, that Mac had called Bud and Harriet because she suspected, after the way she left, that he wouldn't want to take care of Jingo. But he wasn't about to tell Harriet that. "Jingo's fine," he told her. "I took him over to my place until she gets back."
"That's good, Sir," she replied, looking down at her lap again.
"So what are you doing here, Harriet?" he asked.
"Well, my parents are in town for a few days and wanted to spend some time with AJ," she replied. "I was. . . .I guess I needed something to keep me busy, so I asked the Admiral if it would be okay if I came in and did some work today."
"I guess I can understand the feeling," he said. He realized his mistake and tried to correct, "I'm sorry. I can't really understand, but. . . ."
"It's okay, Sir," Harriet assured him. "I know what you meant. But at least you know Colonel Mackenzie will be coming home to you."
"Yeah, maybe," Mic replied softly. He paused a moment, then asked, "Harriet, you've known Sarah and Rabb a long time, right?"
"Yes, Sir, four years now," she replied. "I met them and Bud not long after Bud and the Colonel had transferred to JAG. I had taken Bud's place on the Sea Hawk as PAO and they were there on an investigation."
Mic considered, wondering how to ask his next question. There was still so much he needed to know. Finally, he asked, "Harriet, did you ever think. . . .that there might be something between them?"
"The Commander and the Colonel?" Harriet asked, a little stunned. Surely, he wasn't suggesting. . . . "Sir, you don't think. . . ?"
Mic realized what Harriet was thinking and how his question had sounded and rushed to rephrase. "No, I don't mean like that," he assured her. "I think that I know Sarah well enough to know that she wouldn't. And, I may not like him, but Rabb doesn't strike me as the type either. No, I meant more in the way of unrequited feelings."
"Well," Harriet began, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Even if he was almost engaged to Mac, she didn't feel comfortable discussing something so personal about Harm and Mac with him. "I really don't feel comfortable discussing this, Sir."
"Harriet, the woman I love has gone halfway around the world with another man on a crusade," Mic exclaimed, slapping the table in frustration. "I don't understand why that happened, why she would do something like that. I need to understand that."
At Harriet's startled glance, he apologized, "I'm sorry, Harriet. I know that you're being loyal to your friends and I don't fault you for that. I just. . . ."
Harriet reached out and put a hand on his arm. "I know, Sir," she said. "I'm sorry that I can't help you. I really wish I could. I just don't know what to say to you."
"Thanks anyway, Harriet," he said. "Look, you should probably get to work. I'm sorry to keep you."
"That's okay, Sir," she replied as she got up. "I really do hope everything works out for you."
"Thank you, Harriet," Mic replied. "It did help just having someone listen."
Harriet managed a small smile for him. "I'll see you later, Sir," she replied as she turned and left to enter the building.
As Mic watched her leave, he turned over their conversation in his mind. He certainly didn't fault her for not answering his questions. He'd seen and heard how close Harriet and Bud were to Harm and Mac. After all, Harm and Mac had stood up for them at their wedding, were godparents to little AJ and would have been godparents to baby Sarah had she lived.
And truth be told, Mic knew deep down what the answer to his question was. There was something between Harm and Mac that went beyond mere friendship or even beyond the close relationship of best friends. The question was how far and how deep did their feelings for each other run? And could Mic love Mac enough to overcome that?
+++
OFF HIGHWAY M29
NEAR URAS-MARTAN, CHECHNYA
As they had neared the crash site, Volkonov had to pull their car off the road and the three officers hiked a kilometer on foot through a forested area to the crash site. Mac gasped when they got their first look at the two downed helicopters in a small meadow, now little more than burned out twisted hulks of metal. "It's amazing that anyone was able to survive this," she said to herself.
Harm was close enough to hear and jumped in to explain what he saw in the wreckage. "Well, depends on when the fire started, while in the air or after they were on the ground," he explained, careful to control his emotions, as he walking around the wreckage, careful to stay away from the sharp, jagged edges of metal. He pointed to one of the vehicles, the more badly damaged of the two. "This helo looks like it was hit by a missile almost dead center, broke apart while still in the air. The pilots probably never had a chance." He looked at Volkonov, who had the accident report, for confirmation.
"That is correct," he agreed, reading the report. "Both pilots in that helicopter were killed."
Mac watched Harm carefully, knowing this was not easy for him. It could just as easily been his brother in that helicopter. As he looked over the other vehicle, the one his brother had been flying, he paused – whether to collect his thoughts or control his emotions, Mac wasn't sure. Probably both.
Finally, Harm continued with his observations, his voice steely. Mac could sense the emotional turmoil just below the surface. "This helo was hit near the tail and judging from the damage, Sergei was able to control it enough to attempt to land. It hit the ground tail first. The cockpit sustained the least damage, which gave Sergei and his co-pilot a chance to escape."
"Sergei did escape, but his co-pilot was reported as being captured, right?" Mac asked, looking at Volkonov. When he nodded, she continued, "So how did they get separated? I would have thought they would have stuck together."
"I don't know," Harm admitted. "It's possible the co-pilot was injured badly enough that he couldn't travel and Sergei went to get help, possibly hoping to catch the convoy they had been protecting. He may not have known that they had been bombed as well."
"And while Sergei was gone, the rebels showed up," Mac concluded. "How many survived from the convoy?"
Volkonov checked the report and replied, "Six men out of fifty-two. And all of them were rescued by Russian soldiers from another convoy."
"But they didn't find Sergei," Mac said. "So how do they know that Sergei wasn't captured but the co-pilot was?"
"The Chechens have bragged about it," Volkonov told her. "I wouldn't be surprised to hear soon that they have executed him."
"So Sergei probably either got lost trying to find the convoy or he came close to the rebels himself and is on the run from them," Mac pointed out.
"Generally, pilots have a good sense of direction," Harm interjected, "but getting lost is a possibility if he had some kind of head injury or was disoriented by the crash. But I doubt it. If he was able to make a relatively controlled landing, then those possibilities are unlikely. He's likely on the run from the rebels. What we need to do now is see if we can find anything that will give us a clue in what direction he took off in."
All three spread out around the crash site, looking for blood, fabric, footprints in the snow, anything. After a moment, Mac walked over to Harm. "Harm, I need to go, um, take care of personal business," she told him. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
Harm nodded, but warned her, "Don't go too far. And you have a weapon, right?"
Mac pulled a pistol out of her coat pocket. "Taken care of," she replied before turning and heading into the forest.
Harm returned to the task at hand and after another moment, called to Volkonov, "Captain, over here."
"You found something, Commander?" he asked as he headed towards Harm.
"Blood and some footprints," he replied, motioning with his hand. "Heading off in that direction."
"It's possible that the co-pilot had a weapon and managed to fire at the rebels before being captured," Volkonov pointed out. "Or the blood could be from the co-pilot as the rebels carried him off.
"True," Harm admitted reluctant. "But wouldn't there be more sets of prints if that were the case? So far, it's all we have to go on unless you found something."
Volkonov shook his head. "Nothing," he confirmed.
"Then I suggest as soon as Mac gets back that we get some supplies from the car and head off in the direction of those tracks," Harm said. He glanced up at the sky and the flakes that were beginning to fall. "Damn, if we get more than just a dusting, it would probably cover up any evidence."
He stood, still looking down at the blood and tracks. If the blood was Sergei's, he could be hurt – and badly. Even if he hadn't been captured yet, in this weather, hypothermia was a possibility. And he'd already been out here for four days.
Harm's head jerked up and his blood ran cold when a feminine scream split the air.
+++
Volkonov grabbed Harm's shoulder before he could run off in the direction of the scream. "We need to be as quiet as possible," he cautioned. "We do not know how many men there are out there." He pulled his pistol out of his pocket and checked the clip. "I know how you feel about the Colonel, but we need to be careful not to get us or her killed."
Harm took a deep breath and nodded, readying his own gun. He knew Volkonov was right. He just had to trust that Mac protect herself until they could get to her. "Come on, let's go," he said tersely.
As quickly as possible while being quiet, they moved in the direction from which they had heard the scream, Harm resisting the urge to tear through the trees like a bull when they heard another scream. Nearing a small frozen creek, they could make out through the trees Mac and two men, one of whom was pressing Mac against a tree while the other man egged him on in a language that Harm didn't recognize as Russian. Harm was only slightly relieved that Mac was doing her best to hold him off. Hiding behind a tree, Volkonov right behind him, he made a visual survey of the scene, noting that the spectator was holding a gun.
"We need to take them both out at the same time," Harm said. "One of them has a gun. You take the spectator. I'll take the one who's got Mac. On my signal."
Volkonov nodded his assent, realizing just why Harm wanted that man for himself. He moved off slightly to position himself behind another tree, lifting the gun as Harm did the same. 'Come on, Mac. Push him away. Let me get a clean shot.' His hands tightened around his gun when she kneed the man and he responded by knocking her head against the tree. Mac slumped from the impact and Harm saw his opportunity. "Now," he said. A split second later, two shots echoed in the cold winter air and both assailants fell to the ground.
Harm tore out from behind the tree towards Mac. Before she could completely rise, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest while Volkonov checked both men. "They're dead," he announced, but Harm wasn't paying attention, his only concern the woman in his arms.
He pulled back slightly and looked at her, his eyes going wide at the scrapes and abrasions on the side of her face where she had hit the tree. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" he asked, his voice concerned.
"I'm fine," she insisted, breathing heavily. "I was managing to hold them off while waiting for you to get here."
"There's a creek. Let's see if we can get those scratches cleaned up," he said, leading her towards the creek. He set her down on a rock on the bank after brushing the snow off and pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, he squatted by the creek, pounding on the thin ice with his fist until it broke. He dipped the handkerchief in the freezing water, then returned to Mac.
"Sorry, but this is going to be cold," he apologized as he pressed the cloth to her face, gently wiping away the dirt and grit from the scratches. She shivered a little at the icy feeling. "You know, Marine, I've never known you to scream like that." He attempted to keep his voice light and teasing, trying to keep her mind off what might have happened, even as those thought consumed him inside. But Mac wasn't fooled. She could hear the turmoil just beneath the surface of his voice, could see it in the tense way he held himself.
"Harm, I'm fine," she insisted strongly, her hands on his cheeks. She gazed into his eyes and almost smiled at the concern she saw there. "Anyway, the scream was for your benefit. They surprised me, getting a hold of my gun before I knew what was happening, and I knew I had a better chance of fighting them off with your help. I didn't want to call your name and let them know there were others out here. I wanted to give you the element of surprise. As far as they knew, my scream was a typical female reaction."
"Only you could make screaming sound logical," he replied, managing a small smile as he continued wiping her face. "You don't know how scared I was when I heard you scream."
Mac chuckled at the admission. "Harmon Rabb, scared?" she teased. "I think that's the first time I've heard you utter those words."
"Don't tell anyone," he shot back with a genuine grin. "My reputation, you know. Do you have a handkerchief on you so I can dry this?"
She pulled one out of her coat and handed it to him. He set the wet cloth to the side and used the dry one to wipe the water off her face, drying it. "We found some tracks that we want to follow near the crash site," he told her. "We need to go back to the car for supplies. When we do, we need to see if we've got some antibiotic ointment to put on these scratches. How does the rest of you feel?"
"A little sore," she admitted, "but I'll be okay, thanks to you." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek in gratitude.
As she pulled back, he turned his head slightly and as a result, their lips were nearly touching. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, both thinking how easy it would be to close the distance. Not far away, they heard a tree branch snap under the weight of snow on top of it and they pulled away from each other, diverting their eyes, the moment broken. Quickly, they stood and made their way back to Volkonov, who was still with the bodies.
"We need to get out of here," Volkonov urged. "There could easily be more rebels out here."
"Agreed," Harm said. "Let's get back to the car and get our gear and head after Sergei. Captain, how much daylight would you say we have left?"
"Depends on the weather," he replied. "Sunset is about two hours away, but if the weather gets worse, it will get dark quickly."
"Then let's get moving," Harm said, taking off in the direction they had come from with long strides, Mac and Volkonov hurrying to catch up to him. "I want to get as far as possible before we have to set up camp for the night."
After a few minutes, they reached the car and while Harm pulled out the first aid kit to tend to Mac's face, Volkonov began pulling their gear out of the trunk. "Harm, I have to ask," Mac began as he smeared ointment on her scratches. "Are you sure that these tracks are Sergei's?"
Harm was quiet for a moment before answering. Finally, he said, "Absolutely sure, no. But right now it's the only lead we've got."
+++
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
"AJ, we've got a problem," Clay declared as he rushed into AJ's office, Tiner close behind him.
"Sorry, Sir," Tiner began. "He. . . ."
"That's fine, Tiner," AJ said, looking up from a report he had been reading. He stared at Clay impassively, while inside his concern for his officers intensified.
Tiner came to attention and said, "Aye, Sir," before leaving the office, closing the door behind him.
"Has something happened to Harm and Mac, Webb?" AJ asked.
"No, last I heard from Sokol was that they found what they think is Sergei's trail and are following it," Clay assured him, taking a seat in front of AJ's desk. "It's almost nightfall over there, so they're probably getting ready to set up camp for the night. No, this problem is closer to home."
"Webb. . . ." AJ said in a warning tone, not in the mood for the spy's usual games.
"I have a contact at the State Department who has contacts at the Russian Embassy," he continued calmly, refusing to let AJ rattle him. "The embassy received a visa application about an hour ago."
"Brumby," AJ said, sighing. He'd been half expecting something like this.
"AJ, things are tenuous at best over there," Clay said. "If I could have stopped Harm and Mac from going over there, I would have. But I know that they can handle themselves in a tight situation. Brumby's going over there is only likely to get someone killed, maybe himself, maybe Rabb and Mackenzie. The man doesn't have the type of experience with these types of situations that they do."
"As if this situation couldn't get any worse," AJ muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Aside from Mic's lack of experience with these situations, AJ knew that Mac would not take kindly to Mic coming over there to drag her back home. "I'll see if I can talk to Brumby, convince him to let things play out, but I can't guarantee anything. What about from the embassy's end? Could they be persuaded to deny the application?"
"I'm already working that angle," Clay replied. "But if it is denied, I don't want him to get some crazy idea about trying to sneak into the country or going through the Australians for help getting in. The best bet is to talk to him and get him to reconsider."
"I'll talk to him," AJ agreed. He changed subjects back to the events in Chechnya. "Earlier you said they found a trail they think is Sergeant Zhukov's."
"They went to the crash site and apparently Rabb found a trail of blood and some footprints heading off into the woods," Clay explained. "They're following them now."
"The odds that they are on the right track?" AJ asked.
"Unknown," Clay replied. "The tracks could be Sergei's or they could have been made when the co-pilot was captured by the Chechens. Or they could be completely unrelated to the crash, left by someone else passing through the area. But right now it's their only lead."
"It's like looking for a needle in a haystack," AJ muttered. "A haystack in the middle of winter in a war zone."
"So was the first trip to Russia a needle in a haystack," Clay reminded him.
"Keep me informed," AJ ordered.
Clay stood to leave. "AJ. . . ." he began, then paused. He wasn't good at talking about his emotions. "You once said that Harm and Mac are the closest thing to friends I've got. You don't get a chance to make many friends in my line of work. Trust that I am doing everything possible to make sure they come back alive."
AJ nodded, surprised at the admission. Maybe years of friendship with Harm and Mac were mellowing the man out. Silently, Clay left the office as AJ stood and grabbed his coat and cover off the coat rack. Striding into the outer office, he informed Tiner, "I'm going out for an early lunch."
"Yes, Sir," Tiner replied, not asking any questions as usual.
+++
MIC'S APARTMENT
WASHINGTON DC
Mic was busy throwing clothes into a suitcase when his doorbell rang. Muttering a curse at the interrupt, he came out of the bedroom and threw the door open, surprised to find AJ standing on the other side. "Admiral," he said, startled, "please come in."
"Thank you," AJ replied, stepping into the apartment. "Nice place."
"Thank you, Sir," Mic replied, curious as to the reason for the visit. He didn't think the Admiral had come by in the middle of the work day just to comment on his home. He didn't think anything was wrong with Mac or AJ would have said something right away. "Can I get you anything, Admiral?"
"Some coffee would be great," AJ replied as Mic led him to the couch. AJ sat down and scratched Jingo, who had trotted over to him, behind the ears. "It's cold outside. Wouldn't be surprised if we see some snow."
"Hmmm," Mic murmured as he went into the kitchen, returning a moment later with two cups of coffee, handing one to AJ. Mic sat down on the couch and looked at AJ expectantly. "What can I do for you, Admiral?"
"I understand you're planning on taking a trip," AJ began, jumping right into the subject.
"That's right, Sir," Mic replied. "I'm going to Russia. I plan to bring Sarah home."
Oh, boy, AJ thought. "Mic," he said, "what exactly is your plan, aside from bringing Mac home?"
Mic hesitated and AJ could tell that he hadn't thought much beyond that point. Shaking his head, AJ went on, keeping his tone friendly, "Mic, it's winter over there and there's a war going on. You can't just wander in there, get Mac – assuming she would even agree to it - and wander back out. With thinking like that you're only likely to get yourself hurt."
"And what about Sarah?" Mic pointed out, frustrated. "What about her getting hurt or worse, following Rabb on his damned crusade?"
Taking a deep breath, AJ asked, "Mic, remember what I asked you the last time they were in Russia? You need to think about that. If Mac were over there, let's say on official business, would you be having the same reaction, ready to fly over there and 'rescue' her? Or is it just the fact that she's over there with him?"
Mic was silent, but AJ had a feeling he already knew the answer to the question. He decided to change tactics, realizing that Mic was not likely to be persuaded as long as the emphasis was on the fact that Mac was over there with Harm. "Tell me, Mic," he said, "just what kind of experience do you have in situations like that? Have you ever been in a war zone or gone on field exercises in the middle of harsh winter conditions?"
Mic just stared at him for a long moment, then reluctantly shook his head. "But that doesn't mean I can't handle myself over there," Mic retorted.
"Maybe, maybe not," AJ said calmly. "But how do you think Mac would feel if you went over there and got yourself hurt or killed?"
"And what about how I would feel if I just let her stay over there and possibly get hurt or killed?" Mic countered.
"And if you were to go over there, you think Mac would just willingly abandon the search of Sergeant Zhukov and return home on your say so?" AJ asked quietly. Something told him that he hadn't even considered the possibility that Mac would refuse to return. The next words out of Mic's mouth confirmed that theory.
"Why wouldn't she?" Mic asked. "I'm her fiancé and if I insist that she needs to come home, she should."
AJ shook his head sadly. "I'm hardly one to give advice on relationships," he said, "given my history, but I do know that it doesn't work that way. Mac's a very strong-willed, independent woman whom I think would not take well to being ordered to do something like that."
"Admiral, why don't you just order her home?" Mic asked. "You are her commanding officer."
"She's already indicated in her letter that she's willing to risk being declared UA," AJ pointed out, setting his empty coffee cup down on the table in front of the couch. "Given that, I don't think the risk of a DDO charge really concerns her at this point. Besides, and I know you are not going to like this, Harm is going off half-cocked and he has a better chance of finding his brother and making it out of there alive with her. She's got a good head on her shoulders and he needs her to be able to think things through for him."
AJ could tell from the expression in Mic's eyes that he did not like the idea of Harm needing Mac for anything. He continued, "I know you and Rabb have never gotten along, but as his friend, I don't want to see him get killed and as his best friend, I know that Mac doesn't either."
He paused before adding, "I am not sure I should be saying this, but you know Harm doesn't like you and I'm sure he doesn't think you are the right person for Mac." Mic started to interrupt, but AJ held his hand up to stop him. "Let me finish. Regardless, Harm has stepped back and said nothing, allowing Mac to make her own choices, regardless of how he feels about them. On the other hand, you appear to be trying to force her to chose between you and her best friend. If it comes down to that, don't you think that Mac might resent your forcing her into that position? Mic, don't do anything without considering the long term consequences. Maybe you can find her and talk her into coming home. But would your relationship really be better for it long term?"
"I'm just so frustrated," Mic exclaimed, running a hand through his hair.
"I can understand that," AJ said. "But can you trust Mac enough to take care of herself and come home? What if she sees your coming after her as a sign that you don't trust her? Just think about it some more before you make any decisions."
"I'll try," Mic conceded and AJ resisted the urge the breathe a huge sigh of relief. "Have you heard anything else from Russia?"
"I spoke to Webb not long ago," he revealed. "They found a trail that is possibly Sergeant Zhukov's and are following it now. Given the time, they're likely getting ready to call it a day and set up camp for the night."
Mic nodded, trying not to think about Harm and Mac spending the night together in the wilderness, even if someone else was with them. "Keep me informed," he requested.
"I will, Mic," AJ promised as he stood to leave. "I've known Harm and Mac a long time and they've gotten out of tight situations before. I believe they will make it back this time as well."
"Thank you, Sir," Mic said, shaking AJ's hand at the door. "I. . . .well, I do appreciate everything you're doing."
"Goodbye, Mic," AJ said as he left. After closing the door behind him, Mic leaned against it and sighed. He couldn't just let her go halfway around the world with another man without putting up a fight. But what if AJ was right? What if in fighting for her, he ended up pushing her even further away, perhaps right out of his life? What was he supposed to do?
+++
5 KM NORTHEAST OF URAS-MARTAN, CHECHNYA
The weather had steadily grown worse until visibility was reduced to almost nothing. If it hadn't been for the GPS they had been provided, they probably couldn't be sure that they were even traveling in the right direction towards Grozny. About an hour after they had left the crash site they had come upon the burned out shell of a house and Harm had reluctantly agreed that it would make a good place to camp for the night. Although it wasn't much in the way of shelter, requiring them to still put up the tent they had brought with them to protect them from the falling snow, the four walls would provide some relief from the howling wind.
While putting up the tent, they had debated on the need for a posted watch. Harm was concerned after Mac's close call with the rebels earlier, but Volkonov pointed out that no one would be traveling in this weather unless they wanted to freeze to death. There were some things that could stop even a war and near-blizzard conditions was one of them. Besides, he pointed out, they should take the opportunity when available to catch up on rest.
After a meal of rations, Volkonov had gone out behind the house, leaving Harm and Mac alone. They stood side by side, watching the snow fall through a window opening, when Harm suddenly spoke. "How's your face feel?" he asked.
"Stings like hell," she replied, "but I'll live. That isn't what you really wanted to ask me, was it? What's on your mind?"
"What, you think I'm not concerned?" he teased.
"No, I'm sure you are, which is a big change from outright ignoring me," she replied. At his hurt expression, she quickly moved on. "You just sound like you have something on your mind, besides my injury and Sergei."
"I've just been thinking about something you said this morning," he replied. "On the plane to Grozny, what did you mean when you said that the Admiral didn't send you after me?"
Mac had been wondering most of the day when he was going to bring that up. On the plane, Volkonov had interrupted them before he could respond to what she had said. "Just what I said, he didn't send me after you. I came on my own this time."
"But how?" he asked, confused. "You still would have had to request leave. . . ." he trailed off as it hit him. "You didn't even tell the Admiral you were coming. You went UA, didn't you?"
Mac sighed and replied, "Honestly, I'm not sure what the Admiral will do. I told him in the letter I left him that he could either declare me UA or take the letter as my resignation."
Harm grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him. "Why, Mac?" he demanded. "Why did you throw away your career like that?"
"Because, contrary to everything that's happened," she explained, "I'm still the same woman whose career was saved by a man willing to overlook her betrayal in the Arizona desert and by a man who stood up for her when she killed her husband. I'm still the same woman who took in a fugitive whom I knew could never murder anyone and I'm still that woman who got shot down in a MiG helping her best friend find his father. Harm, I'm still your best friend and I couldn't let you run off and risk getting yourself killed. Your chances of getting through this are better with me."
Harm felt incredibly bad for the way he had been treating her. She possibly had given up her career for him and he'd been acting like an ass because of hurt feelings. Pushing the hood of her parka out of the way, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Thank you," he whispered. "I know I don't deserve your loyalty."
"Shhh," she returned, placing a gloved finger over his lips as he pulled away from her. She turned to gaze into his eyes, trying not to let his nearness affect her, trying not to think about how easy it would be, trying to remind herself that she had someone waiting for her back in Washington. "It doesn't matter. I'll always be there for you."
Harm took her hand and pulled it away, trying to ignore how good it felt to have her there for him, trying to forget about how much he wanted to ignore everything pulling them apart. Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes, trying to block thoughts of her from his eyes. But his body didn't seem to be taking instructions from his head anymore. Opening his eyes and losing himself to all the emotions he saw swirling in her brown eyes and the ones churning in himself, he lowered his lips to her in a tender kiss.
+++
Almost of their own volition, Mac's arms went around his neck, holding him against her as she deepened the kiss, her lips parting slightly as his tongue slipped between them, gently probing. She knew from experience what it felt like to be kissed by Harmon Rabb, but that single, bittersweet kiss didn't begin to compare to this kiss and maelstrom of emotions it was bringing forth in her.
Volkonov was about to step through the doorway back into the house when he caught sight of the couple kissing. Grinning to himself, he stepped back and decided to take a slow walk around the house. After all, despite the severe cold and near blizzard conditions, it couldn't hurt to make sure everything was secure.
Harm arms went around Mac, holding her tight against him as he drank in her taste and feel. Even through the layers of clothes, it felt so good to finally hold her in his arms the way he had always wanted to that his body couldn't help reacting. In another time and place, it would be so easy. . . .
He forced himself to break off the kiss, tearing himself away from her as he began to pace the snow-covered floor. Sadness in her eyes, Mac grabbed his arm and placed her other hand on his cheek, forcing him to turn to face her. "Harm, there's nothing wrong with feeling," she insisted, caressing his icy cheek with leather covered fingers. Please don't let him back away from me now, she thought. It never even crossed her mind that she had a man, one whom she had agreed to marry, waiting for her back in Washington. All that mattered was the man standing in front of her and the feelings bubbling to the surface between them.
Harm shook his head and Mac could see the torment in his eyes. "It's too late," he countered, his voice hinting at the torment in his soul. "I can't. . . .it's just too late."
"Nothing's final," she pointed out, glancing down at her left hand which held onto his arm. "It's not too late. But it soon will be if you don't say anything."
Harm looked down at her, indecision in his eyes. The officer and the gentleman was at war with the man who wanted and felt. Mac pressed him even further, "Please, just talk to me. Don't shut down on me this time. The stakes are too high now, higher than they've ever been."
"I can't," he whispered, looking away from her. "You're going to marry Brumby. What I want and feel doesn't matter anymore." He started to pull away from her, but she held fast, convinced that the walls he had built around his heart were finally about to come crumbling down.
"No," she insisted firmly. "I'm not letting you talk around the subject, speak in riddles and just walk away from me, not this time. I need to know and you need to face the truth. What do you want? Want do you feel?" Pressing herself against him, she pulled his head down to hers, brushing her lips against his. When he didn't make a move to pull away, she deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around him again.
This time when the kiss ended, instead of pulling away from her, he rested his forehead against her, fighting to control his breathing and his emotions. He opened his mouth to speak, but this time it was Mac who pulled away as she caught sight of Volkonov returning out of the corner of her eye.
"I am sorry to interrupt," he apologized as Harm and Mac put some distance between themselves. He looked from one to the other, misinterpreting their actions as embarrassment. "It is too cold out there. I am just going to turn in for the night."
"That's not a bad idea," Harm said, avoiding looking at Mac. She could see that Volkonov's untimely interruption had given Harm the chance to clamp down on his emotions again. "We're finished here."
Mac stood there for a long moment, watching as Harm following Volkonov into their tent. She had been so close. He had been so close. She sighed as she leaned against one of the walls, resisting the urge for tears. It wasn't Volkonov's fault. He'd had no idea what he had been interrupting. Looking down at her gloved hand, remembering the ring that had sat there for only a few hours until she had removed it, she swore that she would not put the ring back on until she heard definitively from Harm's own lips that he did not want her, did not love her. And given his reactions surrounding their two kisses, she was almost positive that he could not tell her that and still be telling the truth.
+++
A few hours later, Mac awoke, the side of her face feeling like it was on fire. Groaning in pain, she clicked on her small flashlight, careful to keep it pointed away from Harm and Volkonov. She shined the light along the edge of her sleeping bag, looking for the antibiotic ointment. Closing her fingers around it, she quietly climbed out of the tent so that she wouldn't disturb anyone.
She ripped her gloves off, her fingers shaking in the cold, trying not to think about the air temperature, let alone the wind chill. Yanking off the gauze pad Harm had earlier taped over the scrapes, wincing as the tape pulled her skin, she opened the tube of ointment with fumbling fingers and began smearing it on her face. A part of her was glad that she didn't have a mirror so she could look at the wound.
"Mac, what is it?" Harm asked, concerned. Mac turned around to find him standing behind her, concern written all over his face. Before she could reply, he caught sight of her face and gasped softly. "My God," he said softly, pulling his own gloves off. "The scratches have become infected."
"I was afraid of that," she admitted. "I woke up and the side of my face felt like it was on fire."
Harm pressed his hand to her forehead, checking for a fever. "You don't have a fever," he reported. "Let's hope it stays that way. Do you know where the first aid kit is?"
"It should still be in my backpack," she replied, clasping her hands together and blowing on them in an attempt to keep them warm. "I just kept out the ointment so I wouldn't have to dig for it the next time I needed to apply it."
"Which one is yours?" he asked, moving to the corner where the three military-issue backpacks were lined up against the wall.
"The one in the middle," she said. He opened the pack and dug through it, pulling out the kit and carrying it over to her. Setting it on the window sill, he took pulled the ointment out of her clasped hands and finished the job she had begun of applying it.
"Maybe I should have Captain Volkonov take you back . . . ." he began, but she cut him off sharply.
"It's just a few scratches," she insisted. "I'm not going to go anywhere. If we leave, then you'd be out here by yourself. You know better than to try and go into a situation like this without backup. Anyway, haven't you figured it out yet? I didn't come halfway around the would just to watch your six and help you find your brother just so you could send me away."
"You think that means I'm going to stop trying?" he asked as he capped the ointment. Opening the first aid kit, he pulled out a gauze pad and the roll of tape.
"I think even you have to admit that your chance of finding your brother is better with help than without, right?" she countered as he covered her wound again. Reluctantly, he nodded. "And finding your brother is the most important thing, right?" Again, he nodded. "Then it makes sense for me to stay. I'll be fine. I've had worse than these scratches. Remember the mountains? I was shot."
"And the wound got infected, also and you ended up in the hospital for three days," he reminded her, his voice tight.
She grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Okay, maybe that was a bad analogy," she admitted. "The point that I was trying to make is that you need help and I'm not about to let a few scratches stop me from doing that. You need me, even if you won't admit it." It suddenly struck Mac that her last statement could be applied to more than just the search for Sergei.
Harm was silent, not trusting himself to respond even as he recognized the truth of her words. If he replied, they might get back into topics that were better left alone right now. He needed to concentrate on finding his brother. Nothing else should matter right now.
Stuffing everything back into the first aid kit, he bent down to pick up their gloves from where they had dropped them on the ground. He pulled on his gloves then held out hers.
As she took the gloves from his hands, his eyes went wide when he got a good look at her left hand. Seeing the expression in his eyes, she took a deep breath. After their conversation earlier, she thought it best not to push him again so soon. But she could leave him with something to think about. "I took it off before we left Washington," she told him. "As I said earlier, it's not too late." She brushed her lips against his, then turned and climbed back into the tent, leaving Harm standing there staring behind her.
+++
MCMURPHY'S TAVERN
WASHINGTON DC
Mic had a dejected air about him as he plunked himself down at the bar and motioned for the bartender. After AJ's visit, he had done nothing but think about what the older man had said. Mic just wished that something would happen that would show him what to do. Right now, he was damned if he did, damned if he didn't.
"Is this seat taken?" a woman's voice asked. Mic looked up to find Renee standing over him.
Shrugging, he motioned to the stool next to him. "I'm just here by myself," he said, "trying to decide what I should drown my sorrows in."
"Sounds like your day has gone about like mine has," she said, sitting down. The bartender came over and both placed orders, Mic for a double shot of whiskey and Renee for a rum and coke. Once the bartender moved off, she turned to Mic. "Actually, the last few days have been pretty rotten."
"Let me guess – Rabb," Mic said, taking a handful of peanuts from a bowl.
"I don't know what it is with that man," she exclaimed, tossing her purse on the bar. "I've been hinting – hell, I've been dropping anvils – about wanting a future. I think he should go into civilian practice. So he resigns from the Navy. But what does he do next? Takes off to Russia on some damned fool expedition to find his brother. Yeah, I feel bad that his brother his missing, but what does he expect to do about it? I mean, Russia's a big country. Anyway, enough about me. I'm trying not to think about it. What's got you down?"
"Would you believe the same thing?" Mic replied, chuckling a little at the irony. "Sarah finally agreed to marry me and not forty-eight hours later, she's on a plane to Russia with your boyfriend."
"What?" Renee asked, surprised. "Mac went to Russia with Harm?"
"Haven't you been talking to anyone since Harm left?" Mic asked. When she shook her head, he continued, "She left me a letter saying that she was going to Russia to help Rabb find his brother. I've been meeting with Admiral Chegwidden to get updates. Apparently, Mr. Webb has a contact from the former KGB in Moscow who is keeping tabs on where they go and what they do."
"And?" she asked. "What's going on? Not that I think I care at this point. Especially if he's there with another woman."
"I think you do care," Mic pointed out, "same as I do. After all, the people we want to have a future with have run off together, no matter what the reason. To answer your question, when I spoke to the Admiral a few hours ago, he said that they had found a trail they think belongs to Rabb's brother and are following it."
"Well, that's good," Renee said, relieved. "Let's go back to that other thing you just said about them running off together. You don't think there's something going on between them, do you? I mean, like they've been going behind our backs or something."
"No, I don't," he replied. "I don't think Sarah would and no matter what I may think about Rabb, he's too damn honorable to do that."
"You know," Renee pointed out as the bartender finally returned with their drinks, "you sound more sure about Harm than you are about Mac."
Mic looked at his glass for a long moment before replying, "It's not that I doubt Sarah's faithfulness. It's just that I'd feel better if I didn't know. . . .that she does have feelings for him."
"Mac has feelings for Harm?" Renee asked. She considered herself good at reading people and she'd completely missed that one. It was with reluctance that she admitted, "I wasn't aware of that."
"You haven't been around as long as I have," he pointed out. "Before Sarah and I started seeing each other, I used to see things – smiles, little touches, gestures. I've always know that he was my competition for Sarah's affections. After he left JAG to return to flying, I saw the chance to really make a move on Sarah. After he returned, things were tense between them and I think they got very good at burying their feelings." He paused and laughed bitterly.
"I think that if he had never left JAG," he continued after a moment, "that we wouldn't be sitting here having this conversation, because Sarah would never have taken my ring. Maybe I should have seen this coming. In the last few months, they seem to have been getting back their old relationship. Maybe it was only a matter of time before other feelings started resurfacing, too."
"Are you giving up?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
"Honestly, I don't know what to do," he admitted. "I was very close to going to Russia and bringing Sarah home. Then the Admiral came to talk to me and pointed something out. Would she end up resenting me for it if I went over there intending to bring her back? On the other hand, I've been thinking – if I don't do anything, will I be as much as stepping back and letting Rabb have her?"
"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Renee said, echoing his earlier thoughts. "Sounds like you and I have a lot in common, Mr. Brumby."
"Unfortunately," he muttered, taking a swig of his whiskey.
They were both silent for several minutes as they drank, each lost in their own thoughts. "You know," Renee began, "I came here hoping to drown my sorrows, but I really hate drinking alone and I'm hungry. How'd you like to have dinner with me and we can commiserate together?" At the raised eyebrow look Mic shot her, she laughed. "No, I'm not talking about something like that. No revenge for being ditched. I could just use someone to talk to and I think you could as well."
Mic laughed as well, conceding that she had a point. Maybe she wasn't as bad as Mac had always thought. "So where would you like to go?" he asked.
+++
THE NEXT MORNING
5KM NORTHEAST OF URAS-MARTAN, CHECHNYA
By morning, although the wind was still blowing, leaving the wind chill well below zero, the snow had finally stopped falling. Harm had gone outside immediately upon waking, swearing loudly as he made a visual inspection of the trail they had been following the previous day. Mac, coming out of the house, joined him. "Weather wipe away the tracks?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes," he said angrily, tossing aside a branch he had been holding. "We know the tracks went off that way, but then what? We could end up walking in circles trying to pick up the trail again."
"If we continue in that direction, it takes us back to Grozny, correct?" she asked.
"I believe so," he replied.
"I know it's not the ideal solution," she continued, "but what if we just start heading towards Grozny? Maybe we'll get lucky and pick up the trail again, assuming that it was Sergei's trail we were following." She felt compelled to add that last part, reminding him that they might already be on the wrong trail.
"I don't know," he exclaimed, frustrated. "Mac, my brother is out there somewhere. And yes, there's a part of me that knows he may already be dead, just like my father was. But I have to know for sure. You know that."
"I know," she said quietly, taking one of his hands and squeezing. "You were haunted by what happened to your father and weren't able to lay him to rest until our first trip to Russia. And if you can't find Sergei or, worse case, find out what happened to him, you will always wonder and be haunted all over again."
Harm was silent, staring down at the ground as if his gaze could burn away the snow that had fallen, revealing the tracks below. A voice called out and his head jerked up.
"Commander, Colonel," Volkonov called out, trudging through the snow towards them. "I was on the radio with Vasili Ivanovich."
"Something about Sergei?" Mac asked as hope dawned on Harm's features.
"Maybe," he replied, his voice breathless. "The Grozny garrison intercepted a radio call. Some Chechens have reported chasing a lone Russian soldier through the woods last night. They lost the soldier but reported that they are following him towards Grozny."
"And the Russians think it is Sergei," Mac concluded.
"Yes," Volkonov replied. "There are no other Russian soldiers reported missing except for his co-pilot. Two hours ago, the Chechens bragged that they had executed this morning a Russian captured after a helicopter was shot down."
"Do the Russians have an idea where this sighting was?" Harm asked, a ray of hope in his voice even as he tried to push the thought from his mind that it could easily have been Sergei who had just been executed.
Volkonov held up the folded map in his hand and pointed to a mark. He pointed to another mark on the map as he continued, "We are about here. The Chechens said they were about here when they spotted the soldier."
"It doesn't look that far," Mac said, hope in her own voice. "And it is going in the direction of Grozny." She tightened her fingers around Harm's hand, which she still held in hers, while silently praying 'Please let this be it.' Aloud, she told him, "I think we need to gather our stuff and get started."
"Agreed," Harm said in a take charge voice. Mac couldn't help smiling at the strength in his voice, something she couldn't recall hearing this entire trip. "Everyone make sure you have plenty of ammo handy. If this is Sergei and he is being chased by the Chechens, we may have to go through them to get to him."
In less than five minutes, they had their packs on their backs and were trudging through the snow towards Grozny, on the alert for any trouble, praying that they were getting closer to their goal.
+++
TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER
"According to the map and GPS, this is where the Chechens reported chasing Sergei," Harm said, stopping and leaning against a tree, trying to catch his breath. He'd been on field exercises before but never through snow that was nearly knee deep and in temperatures that could only by the most charitable mind be called merely bitter cold. He didn't think Antarctica could feel this cold. Thank God to the Russians for providing them with plenty of decent cold weather gear.
Mac stopped next to him and braced a hand against the tree. "You okay, Flyboy?" she asked, her normal teasing tone while using that nickname absent. She was concerned about him. Although she had absolute faith in his abilities – she'd seen him come through many difficult situations in the past – as tired as she was, she had the feeling that he was running on pure adrenaline. As a sailor, she knew that he didn't have the same kind of survival training that she had as a Marine. Right now, probably the only thing keeping him going was probably the hope that they might be close to finding his brother.
"I'll live," he replied, his hands on his knees as he hunched over, breathing heavily. "Remember, Sergei's been out here for five days and if that is him the Chechens are chasing, then he's alive and he's still going. I have to keep going."
"We should take a break and eat," Volkonov suggested. "We need to maintain energy."
Before Harm could protest, Mac jumped in to agree, "Yes. The snow is deeper than yesterday, making it harder to move through. We're expending a lot more energy."
Harm sighed as he slipped the straps of his pack off his shoulders. "No more than fifteen minutes," he insisted, digging a pack of beef jerky out of his backpack. "We need to get to Sergei before the Chechens do."
As Mac removed her own backpack and started to open it, she stopped, listening carefully. She couldn't explain it, perhaps it was intuition, but she felt like they were being watched. She was about to say something to Harm when she heard the crack of a rifle at about the same time she saw a bullet go whizzing by, barely missing her head.
She and Harm reacted at the same time, Mac diving to the ground as Harm pushed her down with a hand to the center of her back. He followed her to the ground as they both got their rifles ready, preparing to fire back. Mac could see Volkonov a few feet away, now crouching behind a wide tree. Everyone was silent as they waited for another shot so they could determine which direction the shot had come from.
Finally another shot came and Harm motioned with his hand. As all three lifted their rifles, Mac thought she saw a flash of blue from a coat and fired. A voice cried out as her bullet found it's mark and they all saw a figure slump to the ground. Breathing a sigh of relief, all three rose and, holding their rifles ready, made their way to the figure.
When the person didn't move, Volkonov nudged him with the toe of his boot. When there was still no movement, he kicked the downed man's rifle away then knelt and turned him over to find a large red stain spreading across the person's chest. Mac gasped when she got a good look at the person who had been shooting at them. "He looks even younger than Sergei," she exclaimed softly, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
"Colonel, you did what you had to do," Volkonov insisted pragmatically. "This child would have killed us if given the chance."
Mac nodded mutely, knowing he was right, but that knowledge didn't assuage her guilt. She had killed a child who if back in the States would have been going out on dates and attending high school dances. She barely felt it when Harm put his arm around her shoulder or when Volkonov moved a few feet away to allow them some privacy.
"Mac, it's not your fault," Harm insisted, pulling her against his chest even as he remained alert for any further signs of trouble. "Captain Volkonov is right. He wasn't shooting at us because he wanted us here and he probably wasn't shooting at us just to wound us, either."
"I know," she whispered against his chest. "I've killed people before. You know that. But never like this."
"Unfortunately," Harm pointed out gently, "we're in the middle of a war."
"But what kind of country, even one at war, sends children out to do a man's job?" she asked.
"I don't know but there's too many of those countries in the world," Harm replied quietly as he pulled her away from the evidence of what she had done.
As they rejoined Volkonov, Mac said, her voice lifeless, "Let's get out of here and walk a little bit farther before stopping for a break. I need to get out of here."
Harm picked up her fallen backpack and helped her put it back on. "Agreed," he said, wanting to get her out of there, hoping she could put it behind her. "Let's get out of here."
+++
THREE HOURS LATER
About an hour after their close call with the young Chechen, they found the first sign that they were on the right track, or rather Mac had. Lost in thought over what she had done and looking down at the ground, she had seen something out of the corner of her eye, but had just walked past it, thinking it was merely trash. She had only moved on a few feet before stopping, remembering that this wasn't the US and they weren't likely to find litter in the middle of a Chechen forest during winter. It wasn't like this was a hot place for hikers. Brushing the snow aside with her boot, she uncovered a wrapper for rations, the writing on it in Russian.
Slipping off her backpack, she knelt to pick it up while calling out to Harm, trying to contain her excitement, "Harm! I think I found something."
Harm rushed over as fast as he could through the snow and she held out the wrapper to him. "The writing's in Russian," she told him as he took it and turned it over in his hands. As Volkonov joined them, she asked, "Would Chechens have Russian field rations?"
"Not likely," he replied as Harm showed him the wrapper. "Although it is possible they stole some."
"Then we're on the right track," Harm said confidently. "I can feel it."
Volkonov smiled a little at that. At Mac's questioning look, he explained, "When he insisted that Sergeant Zhukov was his brother, that he felt something, I told him 'A lawyer who feels? Now you sound Russian'."
Mac smiled a little at that as she picked up her pack again. "Harm has always been one who feels deeply," she confided softly. Harm turned back to look at her, having overheard her.
"You aren't suggesting again that I'm being driven by my emotions again?" he asked.
"We had this discussion a couple years ago at the Perm rail station," she explained to Volkonov. To herself, she quietly answered Harm's question, "No more so than I am this time." Harm stared at her but said nothing in response.
Volkonov radioed back to Grozny with the latest news while Harm and Mac did a quick recon of the area, seeing if they could find any other sign of Sergei's presence. "They will pass the information on to Major Sokol," he told them as they all gathered together again. "Apparently, he is in contact with your friend Mr. Webb in Washington and is keeping him informed of your progress."
"Let's get going," Harm suggested, starting off through the trees again. "Let's find my brother."
+++
ONE HOUR LATER
For the last half hour, they had been following a set of footprints they had found and both Mac and Harm grew even more confident that they would soon meet up with Sergei. Every so often Harm, who was walking slightly ahead of Mac since she had insisted that she was there to watch his six, looked back at her. Finally, she called him on it.
"Stop worrying," she insisted. "I'm not going to fall apart over that boy's death."
"Mac, stress has to relieve itself," he reminded her.
"Well, it can relieve itself later," she retorted, her voice firm. "We don't have the time for that now. We have to find Sergei."
Shaking his head, Harm turned back around. He remembered that day in the Appalachians when she had killed the poacher. At the end of the day, she had fallen apart for a few minutes, freaking at the sight of the man's blood on her clothes. Although there was no blood on her clothes this time, he knew her well enough to know that what she had done was eating her up inside.
Mac breathed a sigh of relief when he turned back around, thankful that he hadn't pressed the issue. Her first sight of the boy she had killed still haunted her and if she closed her eyes, she could clearly see his youthful face in her mind. But she couldn't let it affect her, not now. There was still too much at stake.
Just seconds later, before she even realized what was happening, Mac found herself thrown to the ground as a powerful explosion ripped through the air, crying out as the injured side of her face hit a rock as she hit the ground. Dazed, tasting blood in her mouth, she struggled to rise to her feet. On her knees, her eyes went wide with horror as she caught sight of the prone figure several feet away from her, the pristine snow around him turning red. "Harm!" she cried out.
+++