1650 local time
Saudi desert
wind tunnel of a sandstone outcropping
The day was dragging by with interminable lethargy. Although both women had several years' worth of catching up to do, every attempted topic came to a standstill through distress or sheer physical exhaustion. Gypsy Crow had remained distant since her revelation of Andrew's death, lost in her own thoughts and regrets.
Mac watched over her as she slept. They had agreed that it would be safer to sleep in shifts. That way they would at least have some warning of a retaliatory attack, they wouldn't be able to do much due to their lack of weapons, but at least they wouldn't be caught by surprise. Idly, Mac wondered what had become of the sig she had taken with her the night she had been abducted. It was long gone by now, but she wondered all the same. She had liked that weapon quite a bit. She'd have to get a new one once she made it back to the US.
Stretching her long arms and rolling her head from shoulder to shoulder, she didn't even try to suppress the deep yawn. It had been an incredibly long couple of days and her emotional self was still in a state of utter confusion. It was no wonder that she was worn out. Through heavy lidded eyes she watched the desert that stretched out before the caverns, an endless stretch of pale, dry sand that glistened in the sun of mid-day. Just as her eyes were drifting closed she noticed movement just at the horizon line, where the sun sent rippled waves of heat coursing up from the sand in an endless torrent of watery distortions.
She watched the object as it wandered a jagged line through the sand. It appeared to be heading to the sandstone formation that loomed up out of the desert, a welcome reprieve from the blazing sun. And an unfortunately obvious one, if Riyadh decided to seek them out, he would have little trouble locating them.
As it neared, she could determine the figure to be human, possibly male. Reaching out to rouse Gypsy Crow, Mac was startled to find her already awake. "There's someone headed our way," she informed her, gesturing in the general direction of their approaching guest. "Come on, we need to get further back into the shadows. We're sitting ducks where we are."
Gypsy Crow amiably nodded her head in agreement and scrambled toward the rear of the cave, putting as much distance between herself and the entrance as she could. Actually nothing they could do would decrease their likelihood of being targets and she knew it as well as Mac did.
Sitting down on top of a large rock, she quickly glanced across at Mac who had also taken up temporary residence on a boulder. Marines weren't taught to hide from danger, regardless of their lack of arms. They had both been instructed in how to see to their own safety as well as the safety of anyone who might be under their protection. Of course, it was always assumed that they would be in top physical condition at the time they would need to do this…
Gypsy Crow wondered just how many marines in prime condition were caught out in the middle of nowhere, without weapons, and placed in a situation of kill or be killed.
The heat was fast becoming insufferable. It weighed down on him like a leaden blanket and provided just about as much breeze. The air had become so arid his mouth was like sandpaper, his tongue swollen from the effort to keep his lips moist. The turban he'd wrapped around his head had become an almost unbearable pressure. But he pushed on despite the gradually increasing pain and bone-weariness. He had to catch up with Mac; he needed to get to her before someone else did.
He spotted the rocky projection as it jutted up from the rolling blanket of sand to reach toward the heavens, the fossilized remains of some ill-fated angel cast from heaven's gates to die in the cruel landscape of a salt and silica laden plain. Forcing himself to keep moving toward the blessed shelter, the thought occurred to him that Mac might have had the same notion; the outcropping was large enough that it would provide some amount of protection from the sun and others' prying eyes.
The need to quench his thirst finally overpowered all else as he slipped into the shade of the rock formation and sank down to his knees. With the canteen at his lips, he heard the definite sound of movement coming from one of the wind hollowed caves in front of him.
He only paused a moment before the welcome sight of Mac assailed his vision. It took her only a second longer to identify their `guest' as her long time JAG co-worker.
Smiling broadly, she shook her head at him. "It's a good thing we're both unarmed. You have been dead a long time ago." She knelt down next to him and indicated his turban with a tanned hand. "What are you doing? Getting ready for Halloween?"
After he had quenched his thirst and handed the canteen to Mac he replied to her barb, "Only if you're going with me." He gently tugged on the gown she still wore, having slipped out of the heavy jeans and shirt she had been wearing at the time of her abduction.
"Dream on. Oh," Mac turned around and grinned at the woman who stood just within the cavern's shadows. "Harm, I'd like you to meet our phoenix, Gypsy Crow."
0700 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Office of Admiral AJ Chegwidden
"Webb!"
The CIA agent he was railing against sat calmly waiting for the tirade to come to an end. "As I said before, Admiral, my hands are tied in this matter. I received word that the Marine Corps is now involved in the extrication of Colonel Caldwell since it appears that reports of her death were premature, they are also aware of the presence of the colonel and the commander. And you know that Mac would tell you herself that she can take care of herself." Webb leaned back against the chair. He was beginning to become concerned himself over the well being of both JAG officers. They should have been back by now, or at least been in contact with someone.
"I don't want to hear any more of your excuses, Webb. What I want is for my people to walk into that bullpen in the morning, safe and sound and ready to get back to work." The Admiral glared across his desk at the immobile agent, barely controlling his urge to cause the man some serious physical damage. Damn that Navy training, he wished he could pummel the man once and for all.
"Admiral, they'll be back. If they don't show up within the week, I'll make sure something is done. But I really don't think I need to make that promise. I doubt the marines are going to let Colonel Caldwell get away again so easily. They're having a hard enough time trying to explain to Washington how they mistakenly buried the wrong body at Arlington."
1658 local time
Saudi desert
sandstone formation
"So you're the elusive Gypsy Crow," Harm murmured, his tongue darting out to moisten his dry, cracked lips. He had to squint against the glaring sun to make out even a faint outline of the woman who remained in the deep shadows of the sandstone cavern.
"That would be her," Mac responded as she tried to pry Harm up from the sand and propel him into the cave.
"No."
Mac turned around to look questioningly at her newly recovered friend. She looked hard into her eyes but couldn't detect the problem. At least she didn't seem to fear Harm, that was good. But why would she refuse him shelter from the unrelenting sun…
The woman silently inclined her head in the direction Harm had only just come from. Finally she spoke, "We need to move to the other side of this formation." Seeing the confusion in both lawyers' eyes, she clarified, "sandstorms here are just as bad as twisters back home and they do about the same amount of damage. We don't have all that much time to find better accommodations." She knelt down and retrieved the small stack of Mac's clothing before stepping out into the blistering sun and easily slipping Harm's knapsack over her shoulder and disappearing around the rough stone.
Shrugging her shoulders, Mac helped Harm stand and maneuver around the scattered shards of jagged sandstone that littered the ground, trying to keep as mush weight off his sore, blistered feet as possible. She didn't understand the woman any more than she ever had. She did remember however, to trust that Gypsy Crow had her own reasons for doing things, very substantiated reasons at that regardless of how strange she appeared.
"I would rather not be in the direct path of that storm when it gets here."
Mac grinned at her inherent ability to read minds. It was something that took some getting used to; she wondered how long it would take Harm to accept it, he still had difficulty accepting her ability to keep such close track of time.
"So, you gonna tell me exactly why you're here, partner?"
Harm grinned and chuckled at the admonition. "You didn't really think I'd let you trek out here alone and have all the fun, did you? I'm under strict orders to watch your six, Ma'am. I figured it would be easier to do that if we were in the same country."
"Yeah," Mac sighed. She helped Harm settle into the cave Gyps had located on the opposite side of the dun formation, adjusting her discarded clothing behind him in place of a cushion. "Let me get a look at those feet of yours. What did you do, try to cross the desert without socks?"
"Must not be used to so much walking," he chuckled. "Don't get much exercise in front of a courtroom."
"Don't believe a word he says, Gyps. This guy can almost keep up with me on our morning runs. He's still a squid, but he's not that much out of shape."
Gypsy Crow had taken up residence on a smooth ledge of stone a couple of meters away from Mac and Harm. She silently watched the two as Mac worried over Harm's injuries and listened to their playful banter. It had been so long since she had heard American accents that she felt almost lightheaded she was so giddy with relief. She could have sat and listened to them pick at each other all day had Mac not become concerned over her sudden silence.
"It's alright," Mac had assured her in hushed tones once she'd tended to Harm's feet and proclaimed him relatively fit. She had crossed the cavern to stand next to her friend, her hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Mac had to suppress the shudder of aversion she felt as her fingers molded to Gypsy Crow's clavicle and scapula. She was so thin Mac could have easily counted every bone in her body. "Gyps?"
"Hmm?"
"You were always thin before, but…" her voice faded to nothing as Mac found that she couldn't bring herself to bring up what might possibly be another painful subject.
"I'm not trying to starve myself, Mac. It's my allergies, that's all." Her voice was flat but her eyes warmed with a sudden surge of compassion for the concern Mac demonstrated. "Wheat and lactose don't agree with my digestive tract and milk is pretty much the basic food stuff in these parts, milk and flat bread. Once I finally told Suleima what the problem was she would try to help me out. I'd give her all my milk and bread rations and she'd hand over most of her dates and rice and preserved fruit and anything else we might have had that I could eat. I tried to `ignore' the allergy at first but it didn't work, I got so sick I couldn't move. And laziness is not condoned in that complex."
"Are you alright?"
"Oh yeah, it was hard at first but once I got used to the diminished diet I lost the lightheadedness and the dizzy spells. But I can't tell you just how much I'd be willing to pay for a big juicy steak with garlic roasted potatoes and a nice bottle of white wine just about now." Gypsy Crow's smile shone through the dimly filtered light of their temporary shelter and she leaned forward to peer around Mac at the man who was still seated on the sandy floor of the cave. "Is your friend going to be alright?"
"Him?" Mac turned around and cocked her head at Harm, a smile playing at her own lips. "He'll be fine. He's pretty tough for a squid."
"I heard that," Harm commented although his head remained pressed back against the stone and his eyelids stayed firmly shut.
"You were meant to, I believe." Gypsy Crow, feeling a bit more at ease with the tall dark stranger, hopped down from her stone shelf and crossed the cave to crouch down beside him. "I'm sorry for being so rude before." She extended a hand in formal greeting.
"Colonel," Harm acknowledged, raising his hand in salute before reaching out to grasp her proffered hand.
"Oh yeah… it's been so long… I guess I'm going to have to get used to that again..." Flustered, she ran her hand through her hair once Harm released it and leaned back on her heels wanting to put more distance between herself and this man who had trudged through the sand in search of Mac. Stifling her unease, she glanced sideways at the handsome Navy Commander. "So I don't suppose you know how to get us out of here and behind Jordan's border, would you."
Laughter bubbled over, rising above the shrill cry of the sand storm that raged outside the cave, as Gypsy Crow's delicate fingers closed around the objects that dangled from Harm's hand. "I don't care what you say, Mac," she chuckled, "the squid is good for something."
Mac looked up in time to catch the compass and GPS that Gypsy Crow tossed her way, a grin spreading across her own face. Their hopeless situation had just taken a turn for the better.
