Beyond the Rivers of Jordan: River Crossings

by dunamis

Harm and Mac struggle to move on, but are drawn into a rabbit hole of immense proportions where they are forced to confront destiny. Each time they think they've figured it out, fate takes a turn, leading them back to the same questions.

9. Book 1: River Crossings - Chapter 8

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

Chapter 8

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20018507

"Take the blue pill and the dream ends. Take the red pill, and you see just how far the rabbit hole goes. – Morpheus, The Matrix."

User ID: Cavalier

The Fifth Avenue, Rendezvous Hotel

Behind Grand Central Station

0045 ZULU

                "I need to talk to you, now!"

                Bobbi glared at Harm, half appalled by his lack of consideration, half perturbed at why he was so persistent, "Harm, can't you see I'm talking to someone?"

                "I can you you're flirting with Sturgis, not 'someone'," he snapped back.

                "Gee, thanks…" Sturg frowned at the insult.

                Harm looked at the other apologetically, "Buddy…"

                "Its okay…I know I know, you're having a bad day…excuse me, congresswoman," Sturg shrugged it off and went over to join Renee across the room.

                "My, you're a joy to have around…"

                "Come with me," Harm grabbed her wine glass and gruffly handed it to the passing waiter. He then grabbed Bobbi by the arm and dragged her out of the ballroom, as discreetly as he could out of everyone's view.

                "Let go off me!" Bobbi yanked her arm out of his grip, "What on earth is the matter with you! I'm in the middle of a campaign dinner! …Is this about the case? Coz I believe I made it clear that you had a choice in the matter!"

                "Oh I'm sure you're completely alright with me not taking the case!" he shot back.

                "As a matter of fact I am!" she scolded him, angry with the lack of courtesy he was giving her.

Harm took in deep frustrated breaths, pacing around on the spot, eyeing the woman in front of him, he stuck the brown envelope in her face, and demanded, "Then why this?"

                "What are you talking about?"

                "I'm talking about you throwing all sorts of crap my way to get me on this case!"

                Bobbi was annoyed, but nevertheless took the envelope from his hands to retrieve its contents. She only had to glance briefly at the top sheet before her eyes darted back up at Harm, "I didn't send you these…"

                "Yeah right!"

                "I didn't!"

                "You didn't send Nathan Samuelle!" Harm belted sarcastically.

"I have no idea who you're talking about!" Bobbi defended.

                Harm eyed her intently for a while, and continued, "The old man up on the terrace! He had this envelope and he said it was for me…he said he was an associate of yours!"

                "I don't know any Nathan Samuelle! Go check the guest list if you want! He is not on it!"

                "This is ridiculous…"

                "Fine! Don't believe me? Show me!" Bobbi tried to pull him by the arm back into the ballroom, but Harm stood his ground.

                "I already did that! I couldn't find him," he told her.

                Bobbi knit her brows together and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index fingers, "Believe me, I had nothing to do with this…"

                Harm walked up and down in front of her almost irrationally, his face flushing a deep red, as he slammed his back heavily onto the corridor wall.

                "What's going on with you…" Bobbi took a step closer, "and don't tell me its this," she said holding up the brown envelope, "and it sure as hell can't be me asking you to take the case coz you damn well know you have a choice. You put two and two that have absolutely no connection and run in bombarding me…forget it, I'm just making it worse." Bobbi kept one hand on her hip, leaning her weight on her left heel as she questioned Harm on his behavior. But Harm didn't answer, so she continued, "Do you know why I'm giving you a choice? Because I know this is going to affect you…you and Mac as well…I'm not inhuman, Harm, as much as you like to think I am."

                "I don't think you're inhuman…" Harm mumbled.

                Bobbi sighed and replied, "Well you sure make it seem that way sometimes."

                Renee and Sturgis immerged from the entrance to Fifth Avenue to check on them.

                "Everything alright out here?" Sturg asked.

                "Everything's' fine," Bobbi replied.

                "Harm?" Renee added.

                "We'll be in a minute…hold the fort will you, darling?" Bobbi turned her head to get them to go back in. Harm nodded in agreement so Renee and Sturg moved back into the ballroom. The two in the corridor kept silent until they were a considerable distance away.

                "Look," Bobbi finally began, "we can't talk about this right now…I've got a party to get back to…if you want, we can talk about this afterwards, but I'm thinking you should just head home and sleep everything off, coz I don't see you having a level head on those shoulders of yours to have a civil discussion of any kind."

                "I...I'll be fine…" Harm replied.

                "Well, look here…go home. Take a nap or something, I could swing by your place later if you really want to talk about the case."

                "Maybe we should just do this tomorrow…I'm just…you know."

                "I was hoping you wouldn't make me work some more tonight…" she smiled to try to cheer him up.

                Harm smiled back, "You look like you're enjoying yourself in there…"

                "Your girlfriend's friend is an…interesting individual I'll give him that, frankly he's not my cup of tea…but hey, if he's a hit with the crowd then…" she shrugged, "anyway, consolation is your friend is quite the man." She winked.

                Harm rolled his eyes and replied, "Just give me enough run in time before the wedding card comes…I don't want a heart attack…unbelievable, my best friend and the congresswoman…"

                "I thought Mac was your best friend…" she raised an eyebrow.

                He glanced back at her and answered, "Well that's changed."

                "Now that can't be what I'd hoped."

                Harm snickered bitterly, "How did you guess."

                "If I didn't know any better, I would have thought she gave you this," Bobbi reached up to touch the bruise under his left eye, Sturgis had told her about the accident, "Wasn't because you talked to her was it?"

                "More like we didn't talk…literally." Literally. He couldn't get that look of betrayal she had on face out of his mind. That's all he saw.

                You honestly resent me.

                "Ha. Then maybe you should," Bobbi retorted, "You never know what lies to be uncovered."

                "I'll take my chances…" Harm replied.

                "Suit yourself…" she mused, "I have a party to get back to…" and slapped the brown envelope back in his hands, before turning away.

                "Could you tell Renee for me…"

                Bobbi nodded, "I will, just go get some rest so I don't get shot down when I come to your office tomorrow."

                Harm laughed and shook his head, "No guarantees on that one."

                Bobbi turned around one more time, "Talk to her." then she disappeared around the entrance.

                Harm sighed and sheepishly pushed himself off the wall and started towards the elevator. He pulled out a cell phone and began dialing a number.

                You're wrong.

                "Hello? …Hey Harriet, how's it going? …yeah, how is she? …Was wondering if I could stop by tomorrow…"

***********

US Naval Headquarters

Pearl Harbor

                Elijah quickly slid the metal drawer back in place when he heard commotion coming from outside the filing room; he quietly slipped into the storage room just beside the desk, leaving a small gap to peer out into the main room. He carefully cocked his small revolver just in case, tightening the attached silencer before holding it up, but with his index finger flushed against the trigger guard. It was instinctive precaution he always took just to make sure he didn't fire unnecessarily. Not that it mattered to him, but old habits die hard. He backed up against the wall and listened intently. The sound of the lock being picked open was audible enough, and then the voices of two men talking as the door clicked, closed once more. There were flash lights roaming across the room, making him shake his head at the unprofessionalism of the two fellows outside.

                "You know where it is?" one man said.

                "He said to look for the personnel records…"

                "Where would that be…"

                "…somewhere around…here."

                He heard the sound of the two men putting on rubber gloves, he could tell by the snapping sound made as they pulled them on. Then there was the sound of a cabinet opening. Elijah recognized the squeaky hinge. It was the same one he had opened. He shifted quietly to peer out, hoping to catch a glimpse of the two men, he couldn't really see their faces, their back were towards him, but he picked up a tattoo on one man's forearm…half of it at least, most of it was hidden under his rolled up sleeve. They were in officer's uniforms, he saw as they got up and turned toward him, so he immediately shifted back against the wall.

                "Damn it, its not here."

                "How is that possible!"

                "I don't know."

                "What are we supposed to tell him?"

                "That its not here!"

                He heard more arguing as the two pulled off the gloves and started back out. When he had heard the door close again and was sure the two men had left, Elijah immerged from his hiding place. He walked over to the file cabinet and carefully pulled it back open. He examined the files. The ones marked under 'Joyner' were slightly dog-eared, so he concluded they may have been there for the same reason he was. He hurried over to the door, pulling out a foil wrapped sachet from his vest. He pulled the foil apart, and it separated to reveal a thin piece of film in between. He gently placed the transparent film onto the door knob, being careful not to shift it even in the slightest. Elijah tapped lightly, making sure he got it right before lifting the film from the metal knob. He held it against the bit of light coming from the frosted glass pane and his lips curved in satisfaction. There were a few rough prints faintly recorded on the transparent surface. He carefully pressed the foil back together, and then slipped it back into his vest pocket; glancing round once more just to make sure he hadn't left anything behind or out of place, then agilely scampered up to the window pane just above his head and out the window. He made sure to replace the latch before he left.

**********

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

0134 ZULU

                Harm inserted the key and turned. He rubbed his soles against the stiff rug outside just to get rid of any extra grit he may have picked up on the way up from the car. The roads had been perpetually wet, making the sand and what not stick to your shoes. He absently pulled off his cap and entered the apartment, fumbling around in what little light was leaking in from the corridor. He dumped the things he had on hand onto the sofa, and placed his shoes back into the cabinet beside the door. He was in the process of pulling his trench coat when he heard the sound of someone clearing his throat at the door. Harm turned around and had to walk a few steps before being able to see who it was, can't say he wasn't surprised.

                "Bobbi Latham asks me to take a case, some mystery man hands me a brown envelope with some documents I'm absolutely certain are classified, and then you show up at my door step…and all in one night! Hmm." Harm marveled sarcastically, "Something has to be going down."

                He continued removing his coat and going about his usual business. Clayton frowned a little at him, and made his own sarcastic comment, "Good evening Webb, why don't you come in?" He closed the door behind him and knowingly reached for the light switch and flipped it.

                Harm turned to observe the other for a moment before going back about dressing down, "I don't even want to ask how you know where the switch was…hey, you killed a man in my apartment before, what's a switch…"

                "Well, hello sunshine…" Clay remarked, "Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?"

                "Not interested…" the other replied as he walked into the bedroom unbuttoning his shirt, "Might as well ask how you got here."

                "By train…" Clay dully stated.

                "Oh yeah…I'm sure you even know how to take the train," Harm walked back out of his room pulling a long sleeved t-shirt on. He still had his dinner pants on but went over to the kitchen to put on some tea.

                "Did I wrong you in another life and you're deciding its pay back time?"

                Harm looked up briefly to shoot Clay a glare, "What do you want, Clay…coz this is not the best time to try roping me into anything."

                "I can see that," Clay mused and walked around the sofa to lean on its back, facing the kitchen.

                "So what's are you here for? To get me involved in one of your little spy games or to retrieve that envelope some old man….Will you take off your shoes! I just vacumed the place!" Harm suddenly yelled in annoyance.

                Clay looked down at his shoes and irritably obliged by walking back to the main door and pulling them off. Who woke you up on the wrong side of the bed? he thought, and then returned to his former position. But when he got there, Harm immediately left the pot to boil and went back into his room, closing the door behind him to change his pants. Clay muttered to himself in frustration and decided to just keep talking,

"I understand from Bobbi that she's trying to get you to take the case on Reese?"

                "She said I have a choice!' the other's voice came from the bedroom.

                "So I hear, "Clay remarked, before continuing, "Are you planning to?"

                "I haven't said yes…"

                "So are you planning to say 'yes'??" Clay returned sharply.

                There was silence before Harm pulled open his bedroom door now in a pair of drawstring pants. He was tying them as he stared at Clayton, "What's it to you?" and then moved back into the kitchen.

                "Just answer the question, Rabb…" he groaned.

                "No, you answer mine!" Harm shot back.

                Clay narrowed his eyes at Harm, and they seemed to have a stare down for a considerable while before he spoke, "I came to tell you not to take the case."

                Harm raised a brow, "Now that's a first."

                "I'm serious, Commander," Clayton walked toward him and stopped just before he reach the counter, "stay out of this case. I'm warning you for your own good."

                "Are you threatening me?" Harm muttered back.

                "See it how you like," Clay replied, "It's for your own good…I'm leaving."

                Clay turned to go back to where the door was, and began slipping on his shoes once again, which he found extremely bothersome just to stay to say a few sentences. He got up and then walked a few steps to the coffee table where Harm had dumped his things, picking up the brown envelope there and opening it up to view its contents.

                "I was right; you came here for that…"

                Clay glanced up at Harm and then slipped the contents back into its holder, tossing the envelope back onto the coffee table to emphasize his disregard, "Stay out of the case, Rabb." He turned to exit.

                "What the…you're not taking the envelope? Tell me the truth Webb! Did you send Nathan Samuelle? Who is he?"

                Clay didn't answer the questions, he just closed the door behind him and whispered in the corridor, "Stay out of it."

                It's for your own good.

***********

Bane's Office, Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv

Exact Location Unknown

                "dai lo (kantonese dialect for 'head'), ta da jing lai le (he's called in)…" a male voice came through the intercom on his desk.

                Daniel pressed the button next to the speaker, and said, "ba ta fang jing wo fang jian (put him through to me), bu yao ji lu zai wang luo li (don't backup the transmission on the main frame), fang zai wo zi ji de dian nao xian (put it on my personal system)."

                "Uplink code being sent…code confirmed." The computer acknowledged before clearing the static feed to reveal a small operations room, where two other people were working, both on computers. Elijah came and sat down, obscuring most of the movement going on just behind him.

The large LCD screen ahead of him on the wall switched to a live feed, the computer adding notes on the bottom about the source feed…etc. Daniel made sure to note that the computer had confirmed the feed was on a secure line and patched into his personal system before allowing any transfer of information. He tapped on a sensor sensitive button at the side of his desk, making a section of metal slide away in front of him, revealing a keyboard. He keyed in a couple of commands before finally turning to the screen once more.

                "ban de ze mo yang (how did it go)?" Daniel asked.

                "I went in myself, couldn't handle the itch…" he replied.

                Daniel shook his head and continued, "and?"

                "The file was gone before I got there. Mid way during the operation, two officers came in, I believe they were looking for the same thing."

                "Were they from…"

                "I don't think so, they were too mediocre for that…they were in US Naval uniforms, I wasn't able to get a good look at them, but I picked up a couple of things that may help, Yi Quan is transmitting them now…Yi Quan, hao le ma (is it done)?"

                "ke yi le(Its done)," a woman's voice came from behind him.

                "Receiving download…download complete." The computer reported, and then brought up a sub window on the top right hand corner, giving Daniel a preview of the three files sent over.

                "You put us on MD4, so we didn't patch into the main database…" Elijah explained, "I managed to lift prints from the op, one complete, the other partial, hopefully enough. Also, part of a tattoo one of the officers had…you'll have to get analysts on it."

                "Will do, anything else to report?"

                "Don't suppose I could get you to tell me what this is all about?" Elijah joked.

                "wu li qu nao (incorrigible rascal)."

                "I didn't think so," Elijah grinned, "we'll be back within two hours…packing up here. Burn has already arranged for our pick up….has Mark sent news?"

                "Not yet."

                "Alright then, we'll come straight to the HQ."

                The video feed cut back to pure static and the computer reported, "Source feed terminated."

                Daniel's face turned more intense now, "Switch to main frame."

                "Main frame online," the computer complied, bringing the system back on screen.

                He pressed on the intercom once more, "Yi Ling (Darryl's Chinese name), ma shang gei wo liao li Ya Zhou shuo hui bao de wen jian (get down to analyzing the info Ya Zhou/Elijah sent back immediately), jue tui pu ke xie lou chu qu (be careful to keep this under wraps)."

                "zi dao le die (I know, father)," a female voice came over the intercom.

                "zuo wan le jiu shang lai (Come up once you're done)."

                Nathan immerged from a hidden entrance behind the desk; he walked round to sit on the other side across from Daniel.

                "Now I know why you were so particular about her."

                "A father expects more of his own."

                "Mmm," he nodded, "what more in our line of work."

***********

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

                Harm lay stretched out along his bed, one hand folded behind his head, the other across his stomach. He had boiled some water and made himself a cup of tea, but the cup still sat on his nightstand, untouched, and cold. He listened to the ticking sounds of the two clocks, one by his bed, the other hanging just outside his room. He never bothered to close the door usually, but then again he never usually had insomnia, so the ticking sound never sounded as amplified as it did now. It was down right annoying, but he was too downright irritated and stubborn to get off his backside to go close it. He just lay there, irrationally seething over the ticking clock, over which he had the means to silence.

                "ARGH!" he eventually let out and stormed over, violently slamming the door shut, and when he could hear one other set of ticking, he marched over to the night stand and yanked the wire straight out of its socket. Because the wire was pretty short, he subsequently sent the alarm clock flying a little way as well, hitting the bed before bouncing onto the floor. Harm suddenly stopped himself, groaning, wondering why on earth he was being so stupid over a stupider, inanimate object. He grudgingly picked up the alarm clock to see if it was alright, and just as quickly tossed it with jaded disregard over to the other side of the queen sized bed, and flopped faced down into the mattress. His head hit the corner of the clock that lay there. It didn't hurt much, but he yelped, seconds later only to let out a frustrated cry once more. Somehow even the silly little things were beginning to look like grave injustices. He just wanted to go to sleep.

                One minute, then two, then a few. The hammer became more resolute with his defeat, and allowed the riot of thoughts and imaginings free passage way through his mind. It seemed less tiring that way. While this went on, he propped himself up with one hand, massaging the area between his brows, they ached terribly. And he glanced up several times, at the brown file that lay behind the closed door. Once, twice, till the urge compelled him.

                "Why not?" he growled and then pushed himself of the bed and out the door. He swung back again just to grab his mug, throwing the contents into the sink absently. Then he set the pot to boil again, taking out the coffee powder and dumping a spoonful of the granules into his mug, followed by a bit of sugar and creamer. He deliberately tried not to make eye contact with the brown envelope sitting on the coffee table, but his resolve was obviously much weaker at three a.m. in the morning, because within the blink of an eye he was on the sofa, going through its contents. He laid out the stack of print outs; all the photographs, briefly examining them, except for one, which he looked at more intently for a moment longer. Then he pulled the paper clip off the stack of computer-generated data. Everything was photocopied, and purposely blurred out at essentially areas, like faces on the photos, and source info on the data sheets.

                "Classified shit." He mumbled to himself.

**********

Bud and Harriet's Residence

                He quietly made his way up the carpeted stairs, and turned into the first room on the right. There was a slight creek as he cleared the last step, but he made sure not a decibel escaped him the rest of the way. He gently closed the door behind him, letting out a breath more easily, and then tugged his leather gloves off casually and flipped them onto the bed where her feet lay under the covers. He sauntered over to the night stand and stuck his hand underneath to click the tiny switch causing yellow light to illuminate the room. She stirred slightly at first then more, finally opening her eyes and squinting painfully at the light. Then Mac mumbled groggily, "geez, its four fifteen…what the… Webb?"

                Clayton remained expressionless, except for the slight tint of fatigue in his eyes. He put the small plastic case he had carried along with him down next to the bed, sitting on the mattress next to her as she pushed herself up.

                "I'm sorry if I woke you, Col."

                "What the hell are you doing here?" she mumbled.

                "Is that all you people want to know?" he remarked.

                "Huh?"

                "Never mind," he sighed, "How have you been feeling, Sarah?"

                "Is that all you people want to know?" she mumbled back.

                "Is it my turn to…"

                "Never mind, "she replied, "I don't even want to ask how you got in here…what's going on?"

                "I came to give you this," he said pulling the black plastic case to his lap and opening it. Clay took a syringe from it and stuck it into a small glass bottle, sucking up its contents. He flicked the syringe a little, pressing out a bit of the clear solution, before reaching for Mac's arm. Mac drew back from him.

                "Don't worry, " he assured her, explaining, "We found out that while you were working on Hazard's case, you were drugged with beta physimone…"

                "English, Webb…"

                "Basically it screws with your hormones, giving you doomsday PMS…I'm sure you've been experiencing that of late…"

                Instinctively, her mind switched to her partner, "Harm…?"

                "No," he assured her, "women only…hormone thing…"

                She silently breathed a sigh of relief, and frowned, "…I can't believe this…Why?"

                "They thought it'd throw you off the Hazard case…but it obviously just turned you into a worse nightmare…"

                "More like my life into a nightmare!" Mac stuck her right arm out for him, and felt the cold sensation of the swab of alcohol on her forearm. She gasped just a bit when the solution was injected. It stung, "Ahh…Who?"

                "It doesn't matter, Sarah," Clay replied, placing the syringe back into the case, "I've handled it. By my estimates the drug would have gradually worn off by next week…but I need your help with something, which requires you be in the right frame of mind."

                Mac thought back on how irritable she had been the past weeks, and then what happened the night before. Had it all been a drug induced frenzy? The dreams, the thoughts, the pain? Now hearing this…it had to be. A part of her then wondered why he had to do this in the middle of the night, then just as quickly concluded it was so befitting for Clayton to do something like this. It didn't matter what the reason was, it was probably meant to be kept quiet about, so she cut to the chase about his visit.

                "What is it?"

                Clay sighed and then reached into the inner pocket of his trench coat, pulling out a folded piece of paper and handing it to Mac. She in turn opened it out. The faces were blurred out, but she recognized it well enough. It was the picture of Harm's dad along with some other men, at a train station in Russia. She looked back up at Webb wanting and explanation, and he obliged,

                "Earlier this evening Harm was asked by Bobbi Latham to take the case on Major Kathryn Reese, he was also handed a stack of documents that was in along with it… by a certain man who introduced himself as Nathan Samuelle…"

                "Who is he?" Mac asked intently, now completely awake.

                "I can't tell you that…"

                "Fine," she replied. Clay would never let slip a name unless he meant for her to know, "I'll do some digging myself…"

                "It wouldn't do any good," Clayton simply replied, "He doesn't exist."

*************

Analysis Room 2, Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv

Exact Location Unknown

                Nathan studied the girl's features intently. She had long, jet black hair, and chiseled features, her eyes especially alluring, large and piercing. Her mother had been Polynesian, but she distinctly carried the Chinese heritage. If you didn't look hard enough, you would have never guessed she was of mixed blood.

                "She looks a lot like you, Daniel," he commented.

                The other nodded, but added his own opinion as well, "but is as strong willed and bull headed as an ox."

                Nathan smiled but said nothing. The other then continued with more tenderness, "but she has also always been a resilient one."

The girl who was probably around twenty hid the flash of displeasure behind an expressionless face, and continued her duties in audible silence. Nathan's lips curved in response, eyeing the man beside him, "She's much like her mother in that way."

Daniel nodded, agreeing, "Too much like her," he commented, before addressing the girl, "hao le mei you (Are you done)?"

"Almost," she replied.

Nathan hobbled over to the chair nearby and took a seat, waiting. He looked up at Daniel who was keeping close vigil over his daughter and remarked, "I'm surprised you managed to keep this from me all these years."

"Mmm…it's always been done that way, why break tradition that works," the other replied.

Nathan sat quietly and agreed. The executive council had always done things this way, especially when it came to the successors to the positions of Oversight and Director. The Director usually did the choosing, and was the only one with access to the information. The identities of the ones being groomed for the post were kept confidential always, and for the position of Director, that seat required more grooming than perhaps Oversight. Being the second in command was in many ways harder than being at the top sometimes. Granted as oversight you had to make great sacrifices and tough decisions, and put up with others vying for your seat, but as second in command, your greatest enemy was not external factors, but yourself, your pride. Few appreciated the role of a Director; it required not a person who had made the job his or her life, but a person whose life was the job. That's why the only ones ever considered for the post of Director were those who had been in the job from birth, which would make sense why all Directors to this day had been from Daniel's family, whether by blood or adoption. The children would be observed from young, and when determined to be a suitable candidate, be groomed for 'destiny', as Daniel would put it. Oversight on the other hand, was picked as and when one had been found. Nathan could never fully grasp the reasons for this unspoken rule. Daniel simply laid it down as that was how it was done; a Director finds destiny, destiny finds Oversight. Somehow, that simple phrase seemed to say it all.

                "hao le (Done)…guo xie shi jian jiu ke yi le (just a few more seconds). Do you want it sent to your room or you want it on disk?"

                "Copy it on disk, we'll view it up in my room," Daniel replied.

                "Done," she affirmed, pressing a button.

                "Come over here… it's about time your Uncle meets you."

                Darryl clicked on a few more buttons and then came over to greet Nathan, "Yi jiu (Uncle)."

                Nathan stood and patted her shoulder, "zong yu neng ren shi ni (Finally I get to know you), Yi Ling."

                "wo hao ji nian jiu zi nao ni shi shui le (I've seen you all these years), Yi Jiu (Uncle), zi shi qing kuang bu ying xu wo men liang ren jie qing (only that circumstance has prevented us from truly knowing one another)." She replied, "…xie xie ni jiu le wo ge gen ta tai tai he nu er (Thank you for saving my brother and his family), jiu xiang wo die shuo suo (just like my father has said) wo men ze jia shi zai qian ni tai duo (our family owes you too much)."

                "Don't thank me so much," Nathan replied, "I wasn't able to save your brother and his wife…"

                "But you did, sir," she answered, "Because of you, Raide was able to have Ruoying, and because of you Ruoying still has a life ahead of her."

                Daniel agreed, putting his hand on Nathan's shoulder, "You brought my son back to life once, who am I to bargain with God a second time? You tried, and that is more than enough."

                Nathan said nothing but patted the hand that was on his shoulder, reaffirming their friendship once more. Then he turned to Darryl, "Shall we?"

                She nodded and let the two men exit the analysis room ahead of her. She quickly grabbed the disk from its tray and double check to see that the computer had executed her command to erase all records of her work. When she was satisfied she ran the few steps to catch up with the two in front.

***********

Bud and Harriet's Residence

                "So what is he? KGB? CIA? NSA? Or Mafia maybe?"

                Clay snickered at her sarcasm, and replied, "I told you he doesn't exist…"

                Mac rolled her eyes and stretched her legs back out under the covers.

                "Is it working?" Clay asked.

                Honestly she couldn't really say she felt any different, was she supposed to anyway? She already felt pretty numb in her emotions, thanks to the pills, so she assumed it was probably working, just not substantial enough a change for her to feel tangibly.

                "I think," she offered, before continuing, "So, Harm's got this…" Mac waved the paper sheet he'd given her, and told him, "Seriously, Webb, do you really expect I'll be able to dissuade him? You know what he's like…you guys have opened a bloody hornet's nest."

                "I know," he nodded, "I'm just asking you to try."

                "We're not in the best place for me to try," she reasoned.

                Clay considered her words carefully, keeping pokerfaced throughout, "I could tell you one thing that would do the trick."

                Mac knew he was talking about not marrying Mic, and she frowned, "That is not an option."

                He shrugged and commented, "Well you can't fault me for giving suggestions."

                She rolled her eyes one more time, and then meditated as thought she wasn't sure she believed all she was hearing, "Reese really is innocent…"

                "If you ask me she ought to be shot." Clay remarked.

                Mac shook her head and argued, "For what? For disagreeing with your policy or for standing up for what's right?"

                "It doesn't make what she's doing correct, she could have handled it better."

                Mac had to agree, and added, "Her choice may spawn greater losses…then again if she didn't speak up it could go that way too…what I don't get is how your people could have let it get this far…"

                "My people don't go round saving the world, Mac...we ain't some Mother Theresa Agency. We step in only when it's necessary…"

                "You mean only when it's in your interests to do so, " she refuted.

                "Or when people give us a reason to…" Clay finished.

                "And in this case there was no reason to until Reese decided to open her gap." Mac concluded knowingly, "Sometimes I can't fathom how unfeeling you people can be."

                "My people pay a high price as it is," he replied passively, "We don't stick our hand into anything…"

                "Yeah yeah...if someone else is willing to risk his neck on it or if it's absolutely necessary. Heard it before…"

                Clay gave out a short sigh, and told her what she already knew, "Seclusion is the price of getting in, abandonment…the price you pay to get out."

                Mac studied his demeanor, but said nothing in return, so he continued,

                "Look," Clay appealed, "Just talk to him, if not for my people then for his sake, he's barking up the wrong tree, a tree that's going to take him everywhere but closure…you know that."

                "I'm not making any promises," Mac answered, "And you know why."

                "Fair enough." Clay got up to leave, taking his small black case along.

                "Is it true?" Mac called out as he reached the door, making Clay turn around to respond.

                The other considered her question carefully and then replied, "If I say 'no', you'd think I was lying, if I said 'yes', the idea would be too classified you'd still conclude I was lying. Whichever way, you'd just drive yourself crazy trying to find proof of either answers' validity, so you probably don't want me to answer that now do you?"

                Mac smiled back just a little, for which Clay gave her another answer, "It's just a lousy attempt to get Harm on this case. One that will absolutely take him for a pretty decent ride…but it's not going to uncover any great conspiracy as our friend will want to believe. Maybe there's truth out there somewhere, maybe not, and if there is, it's certainly not meant to be found, especially not by Harm. So it doesn't matter whether my answer is 'yes' or 'no'."

                She nodded at the reality of his words, and decided to let it go. Even if the truth was meant to be found, she wouldn't find it in here with Webb, and she was sure she'd probably never really know, not that she wanted to. She just wanted Harm to be okay. To move on.

                "Goodnight, Webb."

                "Goodnight."

                He shut the door to her room and proceeded out of the house and into a car that had pulled up to wait for him. Mac could hear the car drive off from her window as she settled back down into bed. She felt wide awake, and began pondering the course she was about to chart in her life. And she thought about Harm. There was a dull forbodance hanging around her, some apprehension. She wasn't sure what it was, having to talk to Harm or what had happened the night before, or what Mic would think if she spent time trying to walk Harm through all this whichever way he chose. She just prayed that when she next saw him she wouldn't see that look in his eyes. The look of a man about to embark on an endless crusade for answers, only to end in questions, more broken than he'd first started out.

Don't do it Harm. You just concluded 18 years of searching for your father.

This is me trying to turn a negative into a positive.

You can walk away any time?

Any time.

How about now?

**********

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

You discovered you have a void in your life

Harm sat back into the sofa, extending his limbs out in all directions, stretching and twisting in bid to loosen them.

I just never realized how much of who I am has been shaped by my search of him…

He yawned deeply, and then reached for his mug, gawking when he tasted the semi-cold watery fluid inside. Groggily he shuffled into the kitchen, to put it in the microwave. He'd been so absorbed in his late night readings he'd forgotten all about it.

No Harm is deeper than that. You are replacing one obsession with another.

                He snapped the microwave door shut and pushed the start button.

What about your life? A relationship? A child? Your future after the Navy? Or is that just not as important?

                "But that doesn't really matter now does it, Mac? The contracts' null and void…" he mumbled as the appliance timer ran out, opening the glass door and bringing out his coffee straight to his lips. It was only just warm enough so he could swallow with ease and get some activity going in his brain. He gripped the mug handle hard, and bit down hard into the lacquered porcelain, luckily not hard enough to break the mug. That irrational rage that stirred inside him was becoming all too uncontrollable, but he couldn't even identify why. Just when he took one more gulp and seemed to be successful in quelling it, his forearm tightened, and reeled back.

Do you ever get through things, Harm?

Eventually.

All in half a second he sent the dark blue mug flying over the counter and smashing into bits at the bottom of the wall just next to the main door.

How bout your father?

That is resolved, Renee

                He shifted illogically on the spot for a moment then suddenly crouched down low into a squat squeezing his head in between his hands, groaning in his chest.

                Until next Christmas…when you visit the wall.

                He had already closed this chapter. He had sealed the coffin himself, and diligently said his goodbyes and burying it deep into that large marble edifice. Only once, maybe twice a year did he revisit the memory of that painful wound, but only to renew his vows, to remind himself that this was piece of his life now dead to himself, nothing but a tiny scar in his heart. It had bound him in invisible chains for nearly two decades, and now, now that he was finally free from it, how dare it return to threatened him once more! Harm scrambled up from the floor and headed towards his room. The feeling he had was strange, he was walking calmly on the outside but inside his internal rhythm was frantic and scared, like the scared little boy who waited for news on his father so many years ago.

It's like I'm not driving the bus anymore. I'm sitting in the back and I have no idea where it's going.

                His hand immediately made a move for the plastic knob on the nightstand, yanking the wooden drawer open, and sending its contents sliding around within the container. Yet, somehow he hadn't completely pulled it out of place; half of it was still securely in its housing, but from top in, one could make out a small buckle peering out at him, the rest of it shrouded in shadows. He kept his left hand on the knob, unmoving, staring back at it as though he feared to pick it up, as though he was forbidden to pick it up.

You're still wearing his MIA bracelet.

                Yeah, he whispered in his heart.

You're not filing away memories, Harm. You'll have those forever.

He slowly shifted the drawer back in its place, and leaned against the backrest of his bed, moving his legs up on the mattress ahead of him. He absently got hold of a pillow and held it tightly to his chest, staring intensely ahead at nothing, feeling the black rush over him, and at the same time, that longing to have her there with him, holding him to make the fear disappear. But he knew he wasn't allowed, he was forbidden. Her name escaped his lips, making emptiness broaden its borders in his chest when he was faced with the reality that she wasn't there this time.

                You've come further with me than any other person…I'll never forget that, Mac.

***********

Bane's Office, Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv

Exact Location Unknown

                "Excuse me, old friend," Daniel said.

                "Go ahead," Nathan replied. Watching the two exit his office through one of the doors, the many doors, and into one of the private meeting rooms attached, away from all other ears and eyes. He shook his head.

                The door was not completely closed, and through the frosted glass he could still make out the shadowy figures of two people. One stubborn young fowl, and an equally stubborn old horse. The argument was a mixture of English and Chinese and maybe a bit of dialect, he really couldn't decipher that much of the conversation. The pace of words gradually slowed into short curt sentences and then the younger walked back in, cutting through just to exit the upper room through the another door. She stopped briefly to address Nathan,

                "I'm sorry, Yi jiu (Uncle), I…we aren't always…"

                Nathan motioned that he was quite alright, and then advised, "Take a breath."

                She did and tried to smile, to show him that she was composed enough to go back out into the HQ without raising suspicions.

                "Better?" he asked, to which he received a nod before continuing, "Alright, go then…I'll speak with your father."

                Darryl gave a slight bow in respect and took her leave just as her father came back in, the stern look still on his face. When the door was properly shut, he turned Nathan apologetically,

                "jia chou bu ke wai ren yang (A household's dirty linen shouldn't be aired in public)…"

                "I didn't know you considered me an outsider," Nathan remarked with some humour.

                "You know what I mean…" the other frowned as he sat back into his chair.

                "Mmm…" he nodded, still sitting in the chair, pivoting around to face Daniel. He opened his mouth to speak, but then swallowed his words, deciding to let the other speak first.

                "She's too impulsive, inexperienced. She doesn't think enough."

                "That she'll learn…" Nathan answered.

                "I know," Daniel began when he observed Nathan's smirk, "You're going to say she's actually a lot more like me…"

                The smirk turned into a grin, "Now that didn't come from my lips."

                The two laughed a little, "But you were certainly thinking it," and when the laughter had died down, Nathan spoke to him more seriously, "She's trying, Daniel…but she not going to get anywhere trying to change who she is."

                "I don't expect her to…"

                "But she expects her to, and because she thinks she's a disappointment to you."

                "She's not a disappointment to me…"

                "She doesn't have to be, she just has to think she is."

                Daniel considered his words carefully, but threw in a stray remark, "Since when have you become an expert with youth?"

                Nathan smiled, and continued, "Sometimes we try so hard to protect them, we end up clipping their wings, Daniel."

                The other said nothing again, instead stared to the side, at the corner of his table.

                "You're afraid to lose her." Nathan concluded.

                The other glanced back up and then replied, "I've lost her mother, and her brother, and the possibility of losing her, each time she goes on an operation, everyday she works here…its our life, we could lose it anytime, any day, you never know."

                "When did this start getting out of hand?" Nathan asked.

                The other was thoughtful for a while, and then answered, "Recently perhaps…up and down the past few months…then when I sent Eli after Minon…"

                "How long has her training been a problem?"

                "Since Raide maybe…"

                Nathan frowned, "Why didn't you tell me?"

                "I was still coping, it's isolated…I am still coping."

                "I know you, Daniel, I know you cope, there's no man better at the job than you are…but you're human, and that's your daughter…humans are always weaker when it comes to relationships, even if just a bit, and what more now that we're old men. Life is coming to an end and like it or not we have regrets. But you and I can't afford to be driven by even the slightest hint of emotion…everything has greater stakes in our world."

                They were both quiet once more, pondering the issue at hand. Nathan had expected the man, even in all his strength to feel the loss of his family. All in the span of one year, Colleen had passed on, and then Raide and Hope his wife had been killed in action. He remembered that clearly, the leak, and then the capture, and the blatant demand to have the Director in exchange. They knew Daniel would never have been allowed to give himself in exchange, it was a taunt, a mock on their part. Nathan had taken charge of that op in bid to retrieve the two, but they knew in their hearts all that while, that there's was no way Daniel's son was coming back alive. His eyes were already hopeless when Nathan came to give him the report.

                "Take over her training," Daniel finally said.

                "We will have to make discreet arrangements," Nathan emphasized.

                Emotions were always a dangerous addition, possibly lethal addition to the mix right now. Human ties were deeply valued amongst them, but had to be carefully hidden and monitored as well. In this case, the immense strain Daniel was going through with the loss of his wife and son could disrupt his duties, and with the addition of Darryl's training, Nathan wasn't so sure he could hold it all together and do it well. And the completion of Darryl's training was essential, she was too important to be compromised. They both knew that it would do only so much good for Nathan to take over primary jurisdiction over Darryl's training since her father still had to do much of it. Nevertheless, it would relieve Daniel of some pressure, enough for him to adequately straddle his emotions and deal with the grief of his loss. As much they had always been persistent in the face of seeming impossibilities, Nathan had to admit this season topped the charts of adversity. The problem with trouble was that as hard as they tried to avoid it, the fiend would sometimes come knocking on their door.

                "I'm back," the intercom buzzed.

                Nathan got up from his chair and told the other, "I'll head to my quarters…we'll talk more later."

                Daniel watched him leave through one of the doorways in his office, and then took a controlled breath, steeling himself completely before giving his permission for the other to enter the office. Eli came in shortly, along with the two other operatives that had gone out with him.

"What took you so long?" Daniel asked.

                "Our ride broke down…"

                "Our ride…" Daniel shook his head at the lingo and continued, "Such things shouldn't be happening."

                "I've instructed Burn on the matter."

"Have you checked in all the equipment and debriefed?"

                "All is done, the full specs have been loaded into the mainframe," Eli replied.

                "You can send them back home then," Daniel instructed.

                Eli spoke to the two in Chinese, giving them reporting times and deadlines, and then they both left the room. He sat down opposite Daniel and asked casually,

                "So what was the retrieval for?"

                "Special favor called in by one of our Australian compatriots, seems they had to pull one of their agents out unexpectedly, and didn't have time to destroy the file."

                "Ahh…I see, and you sent me out on it?"

                "I knew you were craving some field time, so I gave you something simple to quench that appetite of yours…something that wouldn't destroy that knee of yours." Daniel got up and poured himself a glass of water.

                Eli raised and eyebrow, "That's it? Hmm…"

                "To get you to be focused, I just have to take away the distraction."

                "I should say thank you then."

                "You're welcome." Daniel took his seat once more, "I may get tied up with a lot more 'executive' concerns over the next few months, so I need you to stand in for the next few months. You'll have complete acting jurisdiction over all operations from level one to three. Levels four to five I'll still like an update here and there, but I'm more or less leaving the decisions to you. Kel will be your no. 2 as expected. That shouldn't be a problem yes?"

                "Not at all," Eli replied.

                "Try not to be so restless, for the next few months you're going to direct most of the show, and you can't do that properly if you're in it…oh yes, I may need to take one of the chief analysts with me when I go about my business, …pick."

                Elijah thought it through, and then said, "Kel is still a little unsteady on his own, but he's comfortable with Reina, so you may want to keep her as his personal aide, they work nicely together. …as for Yi Quan and Darryl… I'd like to keep Yi Quan here. She's been around the longest, and from what I observed she still a step ahead of the rest, it'll be an asset with you gone."

                The old man nodded, "Done, my duties for the girl are simple anyhow." The he switched topics, "Mark called in…they're going in about…" he looked up at multi-world time display on the wall just next to his desk, "ha. Seven minutes ago…so we'll probably hear more news soon."

                 "shi fu (mentor), are you sure it's wise…" the younger interceded.

                Daniel acknowledged, understanding his concerns, but replied, "There is a high risk factor involved, but the information is still encoded…the boy is an aviator, he has his head in the clouds, not in an unbreakable computer code…you checked it out, he does not have the means or contacts to disseminate such information."

                Eli couldn't argue with that, but persisted, "I still don't see why we shouldn't just cancel him once we have the information and bring the risk factor down to zero."

                Daniel smiled and shook his head, "We're not in the business of killing unnecessarily, he still has something to offer."

                Elijah had read his stats, high IQ, good scores on his psych evaluation, good record. Typical high flyer, plus his predestined heritage…added bonus.

                "Sometimes I think I trained you too well." The older commented, "But one thing you still must learn – compassion…alright then, be off with you, it's already near six in the morning."

                "I'll rest here," Elijah said as he got out of the chair, "I'd like to wait for the news from Mark."

                "Very well then," the other nodded, "Call me when news comes in, I'll be going out for the morning."

                Elijah nodded back and took his leave. Nathan drank his last mouthful of water and sighed, he pressed the button for the keyboard panel once more, then keyed in some commands before signing out for the morning. He exited the room through the same door Nathan had exited from earlier, taking the disk Darryl had made with him, still pondering the events of the day.

**********

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

0545 ZULU

                Harm pulled into the lot and rounded up his things. His eye glanced into the rear view mirror, taking note of the dark rings encircling them thanks to the 'all night'er'. He briefly saluted the guard at the front entrance and proceeded up to the office. There was a lot of info he needed to pull of the military intranet, and research he needed to gather up, and he wasn't going to have the patience to do it on the mediocre junk back home.

                Don't do it, Harm. You just concluded 18 years of searching for your father.

                He tried to throw out that voice that kept speaking to him by shaking his head, but it didn't work. He tried other various methods on the way up, but it those didn't work either. The voice just came back again and again, the same familiar voice. So finally he reasoned with her,

This is just one case Mac, it's hardly an obsession

                The plan was not to get driven back into that black hole that had ruled the greater part of his life. It wasn't. All he wanted to do was thoroughly look up the facts, and give Bobbi a well informed answer when she dropped by later. It was just that.

You can walk away any time?

Any time.

How about now?

He ignored the challenge, and trudged out the elevator. The entire office was dark, quiet. He didn't bother with the main lights, just his own. They would come on promptly at seven anyway. He switched on the computer and began taking out the papers he's brought along, pulling out the highlighted material in particular.

JAG Internal Network.

Enter User ID:_

He keyed in: Harm and then pressed 'enter'.

Please enter your password:_

********* - 'enter'

You are logged on. Welcome Commander Harmon Rabb.

Harm disapproved of the cheesy greeting, and decided to take the extra second to visit the personal preferences menu before getting down to his work; he turned off the greeting function. The he went into the military intranet main page and filled in the clearance page.

Fill in all fields as stated in your military identification card.

Rank: COMMANDER

Name: RABB, HARMON JR.

Official Post: JAG Officer

Security no.: *****************

'Enter'. He waited for a moment.

You are eligible for clearance up to RED level only. Please select which level you require, and key in the relevant access code.

Level: RED

Access Code: ****-****-****-****-***

'Enter'.

Please wait.

Access granted.

You are now logged on.

This line is being monitored and recorded by the United States National Security Agency.

Harm immediately started through the archives searching for relevant material. Red level clearance wouldn't do much good as far as classified information went, but he hoped that he'd at least find something to go on, and if some of that wasn't even red level, than even better, he wouldn't be able to hold on to the information otherwise, much less use it.

The messenger icon at the bottom right hand of the screen began blinking. Harm frowned and glanced at his watch. O657. Who on earth was in the office along with him? He double clicked.

User ID: (Guest) Webb

I told you to stay away! And don't ignore this message!

                "Well what do you know?" Harm mused to himself, and then closed the pop up window to continue with his research. He scrolled down trying to find what he was looking for.

                RRrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnngggg!

                The sudden noise startled him. Harm growled knowing fair well who was on the other line, roughly yanking up the receiver.

                "What?!"

                "I told you to stay out of this case!" Clay's voice came bellowing from the other end.

                "And I didn't say I would!" Harm snapped back, using his right elbow to hold the phone to his ear while he continued with his work.

                "It's for your own good, Harm! And I'm not threatening you! I'm telling you!"

                "Yeah right."

                "Rabb, now you listen to me! You're not going to find what you think you're looking for! That brown envelope is just somebody's sick joke to pull you down the rabbit hole and into wonderland!"

                "If it's just some joke, then what's the harm at looking into it? It'll just turn up nothing anyway, what are you afraid of?"

                "I am not afraid of anything! That photo means squat! Your father is dead! Don't turn this into some crusade…its not going to bring him back!"

                Harm face changed into a mixture of sadness, and his silence told all. Webb groaned audibly, and continued,

                "I'm sorry…Look, Harm, your father has nothing to do with this case, whoever gave you that package just wants you think it does…"

                "And why would he do that?"

                "To send you down the wrong rabbit hole looking for things that don't exist!"

                "Was my father involved with the CIA?" Harm demanded.

                "No!" Webb shouted back in frustration, "You went to Russia! You know what happened! …And anyhow, if that was even remotely possible, what purpose would it serve finding all this out?"

                "Because I need to know!" Harm yelled, "Because I never knew my father all those years! And if he was involved with this then I need to know! So was he, Webb? Was he?? You'll save us both a lot of trouble if you tell me the truth!"

                "No! I told you, no! This has nothing to do with your father!"

                "Sure…" Harm mumbled.

                "I knew you wouldn't believe me," Clayton commented, "But think about it, just stop and think about it. Why would someone give you all this information? And why just one photo of your father…in fact a photo you've seen before! Why?"

                "Maybe there are decent people on this earth."

                "Maybe they're trying to get you on this case and muddle it up so bad you lose! Think about it, you go chasing after ghosts long laid to rest, while they serve Reese up on a silver platter!"

                Clayton's words hit him like a brick, making him stop what he was doing for a moment, but his pride made him resume typing once more.

                "You know what? Forget it." Clay sounded, "Keep searching for your ghost…keep going down that make believe rabbit hole of yours…you can search the database all you want, sooner or later you're going to find that all this rabbit hole does is lead you back to where you were. As far as your father is concerned, you've already solved the case, but if you want to take this case, you're only going to be putting Reese in jeopardy. You're being driven by emotions, and those emotions are going to get your client axed!"

"If there's nothing to find, then why the appearance last night? Why the phone call now?"

"Because I actually give a damn!" Clay answered, and then took a breath before concluding, "I said there's nothing to be found…but if you want to keep at this, then I've warned you. Waste the morning looking for your wonderland for all I care! Maybe when you realize there's nothing to be found you'll take my advice and stay off this case. I meant it for your own good."

The line went dead. Harm took the receiver from it place and stared at it briefly before replacing it. Then he stared at the computer screen unmoving.

Advance Search Results: 3005678 matches.

*********

Nathan's temporary quarters

120m below sea level

Within 780m radius of C.M.D.

Exact Location unknown

                Daniel's cell phone rang. He kept his eyes on Nathan as he picked it up.

                "Hello?"

                "Mark called in. He has the subject in custody, and the location of the laptop."

                "And?"

                "I've sent Yi Quan in for it, I would have gone myself, but I decided to heed your instructions."

                "You should have sent someone else, she only just got in from an op."

                "I trust her…its too important."

                "What's the situation on the other side?"

                "Apparently they only told the other aviators and platoon I/C and 2I/C, all of whom were killed during the hijacking."

                "We have nothing to worry about then."

                "You know my thoughts on it…"

                "What are Mark's intentions?"

                "He said he's in the midst of formulating a game plan, him being the only one to deal with will make things a lot easier for Mark, but right now they've all been confined to recovery quarters while the government conducts their inquiry."

                "Alright then, I don't foresee there being anything else to worry about. Once you've verified that all the information on the laptop has been recovered, check in with me again. Meanwhile go get your rest, you can't run on 'empty'."

                Daniel flipped the cell phone shut and focused solely on Nathan once more, "Don't worry, your godson is more than able to handle such situations, and he gave you his assurance all is going well."

                Nathan nodded, "Yes…however so, this is unfortunate. I have long buried the past, who would have thought it would have come knocking on my door."

                "Did Mark say when he would be arriving back?"

                "Tonight, the Russian system is still easily manipulated…good and bad…in this case good for us. He said he's in the process of working out the kinks, but will be done soon enough. After that whatever else can run on its own."

                "Mmm…" Daniel nodded in acknowledgement, "Perhaps that boy has a lot more potential than I've credited him with."

                "You? Misjudge a person? Is that possible?" the other grinned.

                "Of course!" he said in earnest, and then joked back, "seldom."

                "If none is found then perhaps he is the best candidate…" Nathan commented.

                "Perhaps," Daniel agreed, and quipped another of his idioms, "Sometimes a man has to be made to fit the shoes, not the other way around."

                They continued drinking their tea.

**********

Harm's Office

0745 ZULU

                "Damn it." Harm swore and smacked the keyboard in front of him. He had skipped eleven out of ten of the search results, was at match number one thousand eight hundred and seventy-seven, and he still hadn't turned up anything remotely worth a rat's ass.

                "Maybe there's really nothing to find."

                His head shot up and looked toward the door, shocked at who was standing there.

                "Wh-what are you doing here?" he stammered.

                Mac walked in and closed the door behind her. She was in here civvies; jeans, sweats pulled over, the usual. She had make-up on, to hide the dark rings around her eyes, but he could see through her, even though some color had returned to her cheeks, she hadn't fully recovered yet, he could tell. She sniffed a little.

                "How're you feeling?" Harm asked as she used the crumpled piece of tissue in her hand to dab her nose.

                "I'm better, thanks," she replied, coming to a stop, about a meter from where he was sitting.

                He stared at her, so glad to see her yet so scared. He wanted to be held in her arms in that instant, to tell her all these conflicting feelings he had raging inside, to let her be the one to calm them, but he wouldn't dare, and tried his utter best to conceal the pleading in his eyes.

                "Erm," she began, noticing the way he was staring at her.

                What do you see when you look at me that way?

"Webb told me about what's going on…"

                Oh, he thought, and immediately his defenses went up. Mac saw it too. That's the reason you're here, he looked down, swallowing painfully.

                I see a desirable woman.

Mac groaned, half pitying him and half feeling utterly frustrated, but she tried not to show it. She looked at the screen he was facing, and commented, "I see his concerns were not unfounded."

                "I guess you agree with him then," he replied, the hint of betrayal lacing his tone. Harm pushed the power button on the computer monitor, switching it off as a stubborn signal for her to back off.

                "Oh no you don't," she warned him, "don't you dare turn this on me…"

                "Hey, you're the one who started this…" he said, getting up from his chair and walking away from her.

                "Stop it!" she moved over and tugged him around to face her, "I came in here to help you!"

                "I don't need your help!" he answered.

                Mac's face fell, and this time Harm groaned. Suck it up, Marine. Mac let go of his sleeve.

                "You don't understand, Mac…I need to know."

"No, no I do understand! I understand that you've spent your entire life searching for your father. I understand that you've finally managed to lay him to rest! I understand that that part of your life has been resolved and you don't need to go digging it up again!"

"I need to find the truth!" He yelled back, slamming his fist into the metal cabinet behind Mac, she cringed slightly at the show of violence, and then whispered back,

"Not when there's nothing to be found…" she appealed to him, "Webb said there's nothing to find…"

"And you believe him?"

"Yes, I do." Mac replied, "I think he really does give a damn…even if he doesn't admit it. Whoever is playing you is hitting you where it matters…think about it, what does that one photograph of your father have anything to do with any of the other photographs you were given?"

She waited for his answer, and when he gave none, she answered for him, "Nothing…don't do this, don't start this all over again. You could lose everything you've achieved…everything you've gained from closure…"

Harm looked back at her solemnly, "I have nothing to lose."

**********

Bobbi's Home

Charleston Park

                Bobbi moaned at the incessant knocking on her front door, rolling herself off the bed and putting on her robe, "Geez, can't I get one morning to sleep in?"

                She slipped on the bedroom slippers, and shuffled downstairs, rubbing her hands together in bid to warm them. She passed the house heater on the way and turned it up some more, and then quickly made her way to the front door when the banging got louder.

                "What!" she belted out as she threw the door open to see who the tyrant was.

                "Webb! Do you have any idea what time it is?! Damn it."

                Bobbi tucked her hands under her arms and turned to walk back into the house. She refused to be the one to ask what he was doing at her doorstep. Clay felt almost uneasy catching her in her present state, hair ruffled and in nothing but her nightgown and robe, so he tried to defend himself, "Its eight in the morning already!"

                "Wrong, it's the first time in maybe a decade that I'm able to take the morning off the sleep in!" she snapped back, putting the water to boil, "Now what do you want?"

                "I need to talk to you about the case…"

                "Coffee or tea, Webb! Coffee or tea!"

                "Uh..OH! Coffee…"

                "How do you expect me to think without caffeine…and like this!" she said referring to her get up. Bobbi took some jar out of the cabinet and placed them on the table, and then she yanked some frozen bagels from the freezer, frowning when she had to handle their coldness. She gruffly threw them into the mini toaster and flipped the switch.

                "So what do you want?"

                "I'll take 'em plain, thanks…"

                "The case, Webb! The case!" Bobbi snapped at him again.

                "Well how was I supposed to know you were talking about that!" he grumbled back before continuing. But before he could get the words out of his mouth, she breezed past him and went back up the stairs.

                "I'm going to wash up…take the bagels out when their done, I don't want them burnt!"

                Clay shook his head. Sometimes she could really make him feel like an idiot.

*********

Harm's Office

JAG Headquarters

Mac swallowed with difficulty. His gazed was intense on her, and she wanted to run out of the room.

"You have Renee…" she managed to utter nearly inaudibly.

You should hang on to that one, she's good for you.

Harm let out a laugh that was both painful and grudging, and then took his hand off the metal cabinet, bringing it behind hi back and nodding, "Yeah…I guess I do."

Mac slumped back against the filing cabinet and let her head hang in silence as he turned away, not wanting to look at her. She for her part was starting to regret coming, seeing the way he was reacting to her. As much as she understood how he would feel about this sensitive issue being touched, she wished he would be more rational and controlled.

What about your life? A relationship? A child? Your future after the Navy? Or is that just not as important?

"Those things are important to me, Mac," Harm broke the silence, almost as though he had read her thoughts, but she made sure not to let him know he had.

"What are you talking about?"

"Family, future…you know, the things you're always grilling me about whenever it comes to my father…"

She sighed and then replied, "I don't always…it was once…okay maybe twice! Harm, I'm telling you this now more than ever, leave it alone. Do it for…I don't know! The Navy! Your future! There are a thousand reasons…your mom! …And Renee…give it up…for her."

Harm turned to look at her, hurt by her unspoken words.

"Like Mic did?"

She looked away from him, but his gaze remained unmoving, on her. He continued, "Mac…I would give it up…"

Mac felt the panic button go off in her head once again, he wasn't talking about his father…

"Commander…" AJ's voice came in the same time the door opened. And both snapped out of their revelry, "Mac? What the hell are you doing here?"

She shifted uneasily and then tried to answer, "Er…I dropped in…to round out some unfinished business, Admiral."

AJ crossed his arms and frowned, "The only business you should be having is resting at home!"

"I was just about to leave, sir…" she answered and started inching her way out the door, AJ's eyes following her all the way. Nevertheless, she made an attempt at one last appeal to Harm before heading off, "Think about what I said, please."

AJ shot her a final warning look and she acknowledged quickly, making a hasty retreat.

He turned to Harm who snapped to attention and greeted him, He nodded in reply, "At ease."

"What can I help you with, sir?"

"I heard from the morning watch you came in fifteen minutes to six, Commander?"

"Yes, sir."

"May I ask why?"

"Sir…"

"Wouldn't have anything to do with the case involving Major Kathryn Reese now would it?"

 "Yes, Admiral…but you already knew."

"Yes I did. Rabb." AJ's tone changed to one that was slightly more agitated, "But I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to take it! And I would think you'd have at least the courtesy to check in with me to see how I felt about it before doing anything of any kind!"

"Admiral I haven't agreed…"

"Oh but you're certainly thinking it!" AJ saw that Harm's CPU was switched on and promptly went over to his monitor and switched it back on to reveal his research.

Harm groaned and then tried to explain, "Sir…I was just doing some research…I…"

"Yes, I know…Mr. Webb took the liberty of informing me of you little episode the night before…"

The other frowned in irritation, and AJ switched modes again, "Son, listen to me, there's nothing left to be found about your father, don't go chasing after ghosts long laid to rest."

"Admiral…"

"I know…Bobbi Latham asked you…but you have a choice, and I'm telling you, don't go there."

Harm was quiet for a moment, carefully considering what everyone had been telling him, Webb, Mac, now the Admiral…and suddenly he had to admit much of their words made perfect sense. What could any of this have to do with his father.

"Sir…you think Webb is telling the truth?"

AJ sighed and the answered, "I don't think he's playing us this time…listen, I know this has always been a difficult issue for you…sit down, Harm."

Harm did as he was told and AJ joined him, "I had this file pulled for me, now its confidential material, so I shouldn't be doing this…"

He handed Harm a file, "What is it, sir?"

"…It's your father's service records, including any runs he ever made for the CIA."

A look flashed in Harm's eye, so AJ was quick to add, "Not in the way you think, Commander…your father has never done anything half as deep as you have."

The other sighed in relief that his fears were not for real, "Thank you, sir."

AJ gave him a smile and patted his shoulder heading towards the door. He turned one more time before leaving, "Commander?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If this here gets out…I will kill you."

"I can never repay your kindness, Admiral," Harm assured him.

"If that gets out…I'll kill you."

"Yes, sir."

AJ grinned and started out the door once more, "I want that file back personally by 0900."

"Aye aye, Admiral!"

**********

Bobbi's Home

Charleston Park

                "Okay…I see what you mean…" Bobbi replied, still chewing the bagel.

                "I'm serious, Bobbi, he's self combusting!" Clay told her.

                "I know! You've said that for the third time!" she frowned, "I'll talk to him! …But you are making me wonder…"

                "About what?"

                "Why you're trying so hard to help him…maybe too hard…"

                "There's nothing to find, Bobbi…"

                "Yeah…sure there isn't. So it wouldn't matter that much if he took the case…"

                "Bobbi!"

                "Alright!" she got up and headed towards the toaster to shoved some more bagels in, "You want another one?"

                "No thanks."

                Bobbi opened the refrigerator door and pulled out some vitamins before heading back to the counter, swallowing them with her coffee.

                "Does that even help?"

                "You'll be surprised," she mumbled back, "Now in the event Harm doesn't take the case, who's next in line? I don't see any being able to match except Mac maybe…but you know…"

                "Chegwidden."

                "Well, that could work, but would he?"

                "To save his people, yeah he would."

                "You think he cares that much…"

                "Certain."

                "Fine…I'd be disappointed but fine. But like I said…I leave it to Harm to decide."

                "I was afraid of that…" Clay sighed, "so I took out extra insurance."

                "You what?" She demanded.

                "Hey, I made it clear from the start I was going to do my best to dissuade him!"

                "What did you do??"

                "I just gave him a file of his father's service records, as well as any dealings he had with the CIA… hopefully it'll be enough to pacify him so that even if he takes the case he won't go looking in the wrong direction and lose."

                "You underestimate his commitment to his clients…"

                "You underestimate his devotion to his father."

                "Is there a reason to be concerned about his father?"

                "There is no reason to be concerned about his father, Bobbi."

                They held an antagonistic glare as they finished up the coffee. Bobbi promptly got up to grab her hot bagels from the toaster, wrapping them in two layers of serviettes before starting towards the front door, grabbing her things along the way.

                "Which makes me wonder what big secret you're trying to hide."

                He shook his head and followed her out to the car.

*********

Nathan's temporary quarters

Exact Location unknown

Nathan shifted uneasily in his sleep, his head jerking from side to side, immersed in the recollections of his subconscious mind.

He couldn't hear the firing, but bodies falling around all over the place. He watched, his expression unmoving and seemingly cold. He spoke into the mike, carefully observing the progress.

"Operations, this is Alpha one, we have neutralized sectors four and five."

"Set your charges Alpha one," he replied.

"Affirmative."

"Team two move in, your route is clear…subjects are located in Sector 3 grid 5."

"Roger that, Operations."

"Lay low, I repeat lay low. Do not compromise the subjects."

Suddenly there was gunfire over the comm., and he didn't have to ear the report to have guess what had happened.

"Operations this is Alpha one, we have been discovered, I repeat we have been discovered!"

"All teams have clearance to open fire, directive 3-02 granted!"

"Alpha two, bring me back our people!"

"Affirmative, Operations…move out! We have permission to neutralize our sector!"

Nathan observed the screen in silence. After all these years, observing this blood shed had given him more steel each time, but it didn't mean every face that stared back at him from the screen was eternally branded into his mind and a memorial. He always felt that tiny bit of nausea when he watched such frantic scenes.

"Operations we have one man down, I repeat, one man down! I have to leave him, sir!"

He didn't have half a second to think it through. If they neutralized the entire contact zone they could come back for the one down, but if they had to pull them out, he'd be left behind, "Stay on target! Come back for him once primary target is retrieved!"

"Roger that, Operations…"

Gunfire…more of it, Nathan would only allow himself to blink. The sound of people dying…

Rrrrrrriiiiiinnnnngggg!!!

"uh." Nathan startled back up and groaned, rubbing his eyes. He took a moment to catch his breath before reaching for the handphone just next to his pillow.

"Hello?"

The door to the adjacent room opened with Daniel standing there. Nathan motioned for him to come in.

"No, it's alright. Old man like me doesn't sleep much…" He glanced across the room at Daniel who was settling down in a chair, "Uh-huh…uh-huh…okay, so he's going back for the file at? Nine, alright…that's good. What about your side…all is clear…he accepted he terms? …Well that's to be expected…yes, I'll wait for you at the restaurant…how long? About eight? Alright…I'll have dinner without you then…yes…be safe, Mark."

 He pressed the end call button and sighed.

Daniel observed him and asked, "Another dream?"

"The time I tried to pull Raide and Hope out…" he replied.

Daniel nodded soberly, and then replied, "We knew he wouldn't come back alive…maybe its time I came to terms with that."

"No," Nathan answered, "A person should never have to come to terms with that. Accept that he's gone, that he won't be a part of your life ever again, but don't accept the fact that there was no hope."

The other nodded, "I have spent the last few hours thinking…with you permission, Oversight," he emphasized with a tinge of humor, "I'd like one week to grieve my wife and son, and his wife…perhaps I may still put my heart in order."

Nathan approved, "That is a good thing…"

"Mmm…I think its time I faced my demons."

"You have my full support, old friend."

Daniel smiled in gratitude, and then switched gears to the matter at hand, "What did Mark say?"

"All the paper work is clear…he was angry at first to take the terms of our contract…"

                "Who wouldn't be?"

"Mark managed to talk him round…so it's not a problem. He's going to be detained for a bit longer before the scenario checks out. He'll have his standard one month, and then report for his training."

Nathan flipped the sheets aside, and then walked over to the counter top to pour out some plain water.

"You want one?" he asked.

The other shook his head, so Nathan continued, "Well, for one Clayton is still working to turn the tables in our favor, seems like the information I delivered work splendidly according to plan…"

The other acknowledged, "That is good, one less thing to worry about. This is going to be one long op."

"Mmm…we're getting to old for this," Nathan mused.

They both burst into laughter. It didn't look like they'd be getting to sleep anytime soon.

*********

JAG Headquarters

0954 ZULU

                "Come up in about ten minutes…" Bobbi said as she touché up her lipstick in the rear view mirror.

                Clayton raised a brow amused by her, "You're beginning to think like us."

She shot him a glare and then got out of the car, "Should I wait if I'm done first?"

Clayton shook his head and she nodded, "I didn't think so…I'll check in with you after I'm done with Harm."

She pushed the car door closed, and started off. She knew she didn't need to leave him the key; he probably already had a copy anyway.

"Remember…" Clay told her through the window that was wound down.

"Yeah." Bobbi grudgingly replied, not looking back when she answered.

Clay watched her hurry off towards the reception area and then opened his handphone, pressing the speed dial button. The phone rang once before it was picked up.

"Yes, sir?"

Clay twisted around to look at the two men in the next row of lots behind his, and continued.

"When I get out remember to come over and lock the car."

"Understood."

"Also, is the next shift on its way?"

"They'll be here in fifteen."

"Good, make sure you properly debrief. I don't want any mishaps whatsoever."

"Don't worry, sir, she'll be well guarded…"

Clayton's lips curved at the cocky kid and then finished, "Wait for me, I'll hitch a ride back with you..." ending the call and continuing his wait. Patient planning and hard work produced results. Personally, it was his preference that Harm stayed out of the case, it would simplify things all around, but on the other hand, even if he eventually took on the case, Clay believed he had done enough to make sure he didn't destroy himself in the process. He liked to maintain a facade in front of them, so as to make his job easier, but they were people he genuinely did care about; AJ, Harm, Mac…the Roberts. There was something different about this group. Despite many believing the military to be all about loyalty and integrity, it wasn't really always all that, but it was with these few, and he liked that.

He checked his watch. About eight minutes had passed. Just enough, he thought to himself. Bobbi would probably be in Harm's office by now, going through the matter at hand; he could breeze in and out of Chegwidden's office for the file without running into Harm and antagonizing him to his disadvantage. Harm would flip if he knew the file was from him. And enough time for him to speak with Chegwidden further on the case representation. Clay got out of the car, buttoning his blazer button. He signaled to the men in the car to take note of his leaving, and then started towards the JAG building.

**********

Harm's Office

                "Weigh this carefully, Harm…"

                Mac likes you.

                "I thought you wanted me to take this case..."

                She'd like to wring my neck.

                "I did, I do…I mean…you know what I mean."

                I get that feeling a couple times a day, Commander, but it passes.

                "Yeah." Harm nodded.

                Bobbi leaned over the desk, placing her hand over his, "You know you're first a friend and then my poster boy…"

                The other laughed and then replied, "That's a revelation…careful congresswoman, you're treading a fine line here…"

                Bobbi smacked his hand playfully and then leaned back into the chair, "Don't get cocky with me, Harm…if you're not careful I might actually fall for you."

                Harm flashed her a cheeky grin, and then she continued, "But no…I've got my sights on someone else…"

                "Ahh…a target…I wonder who that might be?" he mused.

                "None of your business," Bobbi smiled back, then got back down to business, "You didn't find anything did you?"

                Harm sighed nonchalantly and shook his head, "No I didn't, I guess it's as Webb said, there's nothing to be found. Maybe I just wanted there to be something…something to distract me…"

                "From Mac." Bobbi finished from him.

                He remained silent, so she asked, "Tell me what you want, I'll respect your decision…no arguments, I promise."

                Harm was considered carefully, for once he wasn't certain if he could handle the case well with the tumult of feelings that had been aroused to blur his sights. He wanted to strangle the idiot who had put that photograph in the stack, and he wanted to kill himself for allowing his perimeters to be compromised.

                "What's the plan if I don't take the case?" he enquired.

                "Hopefully Chegwidden will take it willingly…"

                "If not you're going to use divine persuasion…"

                Bobbi smiled and defended herself, "Well, desperate times do call for desperate measures."

                Harm twirled his pen back and forth trying to decide, so Bobbi added, "Maybe you'll want to think about it further. Anyway, you know the demands of the case, a formal inquiry still has to go into the matter, which you will be a part of if you decide to take the case. Because of the magnitude of the case, it will be a month or so before the hearings start…plus…"

He raised an eye brow questioningly.

"This is confidential, Harm…"

He nodded, "I understand."

"An attempt was made on Reeses' life three days ago…"

"I thought her whereabouts were well guarded?"

"Yes, but this involves big fish…"

"You mean top level fish…" he commented, "So meaning if I play my cards wrong there's a possibility it'll destroy my career?"

Bobbi sighed heavily and replied, "Yeah…"

Harm shook his head in disbelief, the stakes were a lot higher than he'd imagined, and Mac's words drilled into his head once again.

What about your life? A relationship? A child? Your future after the Navy? Or is that just not as important?

"Webb suspects that a top official is in the business of dealing narcotic and arms with Nyumgong, this could render him with great losses…"

"Geez…people dealing in such things don't just play politics, Bobbi, they'll play blood…aren't you worried?"

"I am, but I'm willing to take the risk…"

"I need to think about this…"

"I understand…take your time with it."

Harm sat in his seat holding Bobbi's gaze…this woman brought politics to a whole different level, he thought to himself. But he knew her intentions were pure, he just didn't know if they were worth giving up everything for, if she was worth risking everything.

Yeah, I would give her up.

**********

AJ's Office

                AJ handed the file over to Webb, and then reluctantly said, "I'm actually going to thank you, Webb."

                Clayton glanced at him suspiciously and then replied, "No need, it was to my benefit."

                The other narrowed his eyes slyly, but didn't pursue the topic, he knew Clayton would never admit that he valued relationships in anyway. It was a sign of weakness in his line.

                "So, what do you think?"

                "Harm?"

                Clay nodded.

                "I think he knows better than to take the case, but he's a stubborn, and has an ego the size of…heck, I can't find anything to match it. He'll take it just because it's impossible."

                "In a way he's a lot like you…" Clayton mused, getting a glare from AJ.

                "But as I was saying, perhaps he'll be smart enough to leave it alone, if anything for the client's sake."

                "He would if you took it." Clay stated.

                "Ha…I take it that's your reason for being here?" AJ answered.

                "No, I came for this," Clay held Harm's father's records up condescendingly.

                "I could." AJ finally said after giving Clay a long warning look, "But what good would that do him? He'd think I was taking it away because of his father, and then we'd be back to square one…he'll make my life a living hell trying to dig up what's not there. …Who was the asshole that gave him the information anyway?"

                "I can't tell you that."

                "You undercover types and your stupid mind games." AJ commented sourly. But he didn't press for an answer he knew he couldn't get. Either way, it wouldn't do much good, the card was thrown, so all they could do now was work around it. Clay knew as well as he did, the decision didn't lie with them, it was with Mac and how their relationship played out. AJ shook his head at the complexity of matters.

                "I'd better go before I run into him."

                "Do that."

                Clay got up from his seat and began out, but AJ stopped him to ask, "Wait."

                "Yeah?"

"Why him?"

                "He's your best…"

                "Is that the only reason?"

                "You know as well as I do he'll complicate matters…if he does take this, he could win."

                "And if I take it I wouldn't?" he challenged

                "Oh no, you're probably more likely to win, but you know better than to complicate things." Clayton saved himself easily.

                "I'm hoping that's a compliment." AJ was impressed

                Clayton smiled and replied, "It is AJ, but you're running the show up here…" he said looking around referring to the JAG office, "frankly we can't have you running off and things falling apart back here can we? It's a matter of weighing the consequences…Besides, the SecNav would have my neck for putting you on the line…"

                "So I'm confused here," AJ remarked, "which course of action do you support?"

                "That's a good question…" Clay replied, and then turned to take his leave.

**********

Harm's office

                "Look, the inquiry won't be approved till maybe in two weeks time, so there's still time for you to make up your mind…may be you should talk to her before deciding?"

                Harm sighed and then confided, "She actually came to see me this morning, Webb told her about this…"

                "And?"

                "We didn't finish our conversation."

                Bobbi sighed, and gave the same advice she always gave him, "Then maybe you should."

                Harm laughed and then quickly changed the subject back to the matter at hand, "Even I'm going to admit this is going to be a long haul…so why are you in this congresswoman? This is way to big a risk even for you. If it's not the numbers, what is it?"

                Bobbi smiled and answered, "I want to throw dirty laundry out, and I have personal issues with drugs…besides, as far as National Security goes, this is a major compromise which I will not stand for, this will get more money pumped into where it should be. And if I gain favor, it'll mean more money for other things as well…"

                "Like education?"

                "Precisely."

                "You really are sold out for this job aren't you?"

                Bobbi smiled, and continued, "Anyway, I was there when the attempt was made on Reese, she's telling the truth, I've no doubt about that."

                "Mmm…" Harm nodded, "So far her story does check out…only thing now is to determine whether her allegations are true…as it is the CIA is denouncing all ties with her, and it doesn't help that her CO is the one bringing forth the allegations, she's got nothing going for her. There's nothing to prove that she was involved in undercover operations…and if there were records, they'd probably have been destroyed by now. You're sure her testimony is true? It's not just an attempt to make a break for it?"

                "Well, that one remains to be proven, …I check in with Pearl Harbor for her records, I asked for the hardcopy…they told me they had done a transfer of the records onto computer just one week back…apparently the hardcopy has gone missing, and whoever keyed in her record left out significant gaps."

                "Ha…convenient…what happens to Reese till the inquiry?"

                "She remains in custody…I've seen her quarters…it's..too good, but her family has been pushing to see her, as of yet they're not allowing her release until the findings of the inquiry are conclusive and in her favor."

"So I take it the family doesn't know about the incident."

"Not a clue."

"Figures." Harm stated resentfully. He hated dealing with the CIA. The problem with such cases was everything was covered up so well you'd never find anything unless you got some lucky break or they wanted you to find out. This was one case everything was cleaned up good. He wondered whether they'd actually find anything to build a substantial case.

"I can't figure out if we have a case unless I talk to her, but I can't do that useless I've agreed to pursue this case…I'm in a corner, Bobbi."

"I know," she said, sighing frustratedly,  "I've told you about all I know…just sit on it till it's time to decide, alright? Meawhile, I need to get back to the office. I've got an appointment at eleven before lunch."

The way she'd said it he knew it was a date, so he asked, "Who?"

"None of your business," she grinned.

"Ah…its Mr. Target…" he mused.

"Look, If you have any more questions just call…" she quickly recovered to a more serious tone, "And Harm, talk to her, you have to consult her before you make this decision, you owe it to her…"

"Oh yeah…" Harm agreed totally.

"Sorry, both." Bobbi emphasized when she realized whom he was referring to.

"Okay," he sighed sullenly as he watched her leave.

 Harm cracked his knuckles, considering his options carefully. He had no idea what he was supposed to tell Renee. She'd be so pissed off; he wasn't so sure they were okay after him taking off last night. Then there was Mac…Mac.

What are you willing to give up to have me in your life?

Then Harm reasoned that she'd made her choice. Mic would make her happier the he ever could. So what was stopping him from taking the case? What was holding him back from making the choice to go tumbling down this particular rabbit hole?

Are you in love with him?

**********

Bane's Office, Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv

Exact Location Unknown

Eli leaned back into the chair and observed the HQ going about its business. The job was all he'd ever known, and there was no way he was getting to sleep before the laptop came in, there was just too much at stake. And he marveled at how Bane could be so calm and indifferent about its whereabouts. The knock on his door finally came and he shifted his upper body forward in anticipation.

"jing lai(Come in)."

Yi Quan came in, still in the uniform she had gone back out in. He could tell fatigue was starting to set in, for her as much as for him, but he also credited her for showing no sign of weakness.

"Is everything there?"

"To the last detail...no problems at all…" she answered, looking almost surprised at that fact, "I check it through twice, myself."

"Just as well, the matter was messy enough to handle. Make sure after you've filed in the report, the laptop is properly disposed off by housekeeping…oversee it yourself."

"zi dao le(I know)."

"After that, take the rest of the day off, we both need it. I'll get Kel and Reina to take over for the rest of the day."

"Is Bane really letting the matter go?"

"Yes," he nodded, "So it's not our place to question his decision…just do as I told you."

Yi Quan nodded, resolved to say no more with regards to the matter, "Oh yes, Webb called in a favor…"

"He still can't bring himself to do it…" Elijah commented understandingly.

"Few can," she replied.

"The package has arrived?" he asked.

"Just in."

"What time?"

"Webb said he'll be here at 2100 hours"

"Alright," Elijah sighed, "that's good for me…I'll come back then only…you may go."

 Yiquan proceeded out the way she'd come as Elijah spoke into the intercom, asking for Kel and Reina to come up, and then patched a quick call to Bane to report the latest news.

**********

Underground Detention Facility

Unknown Location, Washington DC

                "Good morning, ma'am." Kathyrn Reese tried to shift her upper torso forward.

                "Stand down, Major," Bobbi joked with her, and then turned to Clay, "How's it going?"

                He sat in his chair, and idly tossed the photocopied sheet about, "She hasn't seen him before, and this…it's probably not his real face."

                Bobbi took the printed sheet from him and studied it, trying to recall if she'd seen anything that would help. But after a while, she shook her head, "Nope, nothing."

                "Forget it," Clay told her, he wouldn't have left anything for us to work with anyway. How's your talk with Rabb go?"

                Bobbi dragged a second chair over and sat down to convene with the other two, and glanced back at Clayton. He took the cue and motioned for the two guards inside the room to leave them. They did so.

                "I can't tell if he will or will not take the case," she finally said when the coast was clear.

                "Well, that's what it seems on my end too…Chegwidden is leaving the final decision to him, but at least the issue we were concerned about seems resolved, so it shouldn't be a problem."

                "He wanted to talk with you before deciding, but that isn't an option, so we'll just have to wait and see for ourselves…"

                "Either way, no reasons for overdue concern, if he doesn't take it, Admiral Chegwidden will." Clay added.

                Bobbi rolled her eyes at Clay, annoyed that he seemed to be hoping that was the case, but continued to Reese, "What I do need to know Katt…you're sure this whole thing had nothing to do with anything else you haven't told us already?"

                "Yes, ma'am."

                Bobbi looked at Clay who answered, "I can't think of any other explanation for it. But no worries, security is back on line, I've taken every precaution thee is left to take, there'll be no more breeches of any sort…"

                "But, the person who masterminded this was probably high up…you're sure there's no way he'll get another chance?" Reese voiced her concerns, "With all dues respect Mr. Webb, that is not something I'm keen to go through a second time."

                Clay shook his head in return, "Possible, but impossible. The facility is on high alert, no one except maybe the President is getting in without my approval…"

                "You have authority over high end officials?" Reese was quick to point out.

                He studied her carefully, reminding himself that this one was no ordinary marine, she was sharp. He corrected, "Even the president has an accountability board, Major."

                "There's no way we're catching the perp who did this?" Bobbi interrupted his attentions.

                "No," he turned to her, "I'm afraid we've tried everything there is to try, unless some inside intel pops up, there's nothing we can do with regards to that…professional assassins are no joke, either you find them or you don't. The best thing you can do Reese, is nail the people behind all this."

                "Any chance I'll be getting out of this place, sir?"

                "I'm sorry, Major, that won't be possible at the moment…at least till the inquiry. You'll accompany whichever officer is assigned to your case…just make sure the evidence is where you say it is."

                 "No one saw where I concealed it, sir."

                "For your sake I hope so." Clay stated, inciting a response from Reese.

                "Is it sufficient?" Bobbi asked both, in bid to break the impending quarrel about to break out.

                "Well," Clay simmered down and answered for them, "There's a chance parts of the information will be rendered inadmissible by the NSA, that I have little influence over, but hopefully there'll be enough to go on…there's little hope of recovering much else, standard procedure would have wiped out any records if there were any… and on Washington's side, the NSA will denounce any ties oversea ops…but like I said, just prove reasonable doubt, that's hard enough, but enough to turn the tables on them."

Reese was quiet, the futility of the matter seeming to sink in. Bobbi took the cue to let her rest for the moment, and pulled Webb along with her. They proceeded to a private meeting room to have their discussion.

"I've been wondering, won't it be risky to send her off to Myanmar? When she leaves this facility she'll be in danger, no?" Bobbi answered.

"I've made arrangements for that…there's nothing to worry about Bobbi. I'll personally oversee her security myself."

"It's that that worries me…" she remarked, getting an amused look in return, "You're that confident you can keep her alive?" Bobbi raised an eyebrow at him, and then shook her head when he gave her a cocky answer.

"I'm good at my job," Clay's lips curved up, and then he told her, "Look, just worry about the person assigned to the case, I'll worry about everything else."

Bobbi walked around the room a bit and lamented, "Easy for you to say…"

"Being 'not in control' is not such a bad thing, just roll with the flow."

                "Oh I suppose you encounter being 'out of control' very often?" she argued.

                "I cope," he replied coolly, "Look, you have my word, whoever takes this case, I'll do my best to make sure it's not blotched."

                Bobbi glanced round at him and warned him, "Don't make a promise you can't keep."

                "I never do."

                "Ha…I'm sure," she remarked, checking her watch, "Okay, I need to get going…"

                "No lunch?" Webb called out as she hurried out.

                "Sorry," she replied, "Got a date."

                Clayton smiled amusedly, and then signaled to the agent nearby to put a call through to the guys waiting outside in the car.

                "Enjoy yourself, Bobbi," he whispered.

***********

Bud and Harriet's Residence

1507 ZULU

                The car pulled up cleanly next to the sidewalk, and Mic smiled at Mac, "Stay here…"

                "Why? We're already here…" she said quizzically.

                "Just do," he answered as he got out, so she took her hand off the car door in surrender.

                She followed his path from inside the car, wondering what he was planning to do, and then burst out laughing when she finally got it. Mic grinned and pulled open the car door for her, bowing in mock Victorian fashion, stretching out his hand to assist her. She took it and pretended to touched by his sincerity straightening her face.

"Thank you, good sir," she said, and then fell into his arms laughing again.

"Gentlemanly enough for you, luv?" he asked, and she nodded trying to hold in her amusement.

They had been to a play rehearsal that morning, a period drama. Mic had called in a favor with one his colleagues. She had confided in him how as a girl she always loved the way in old English films how the men would never fail to stand when the lady left the table, or not even once forgot to open the door for them, but she didn't mean she expected him to do it, it was a little impractical in this time and age, once in a while maybe, but not all the time. Nevertheless, she appreciated the effort.

"You're crazy…" she commented as they walked up the pathway to the front door. But as they did they heard commotion coming from behind the door, and just as they reached the door to go in, it flew open to reveal Harriet trying pull Harm back. He looked enraged.

"What the?" Mic began. But before he could finish his sentence, Harm had seen him, and broke free from Harriet's grasped and was headed straight towards him, shoving him to the ground.

Mac shot round at Harriet for the explanation, and Harriet frantically explained, "He came over to see you, and when he found out about the drinking, he…"

The other's face went white as she turned to see the two men rolling around on the lawn, Harm attacking and Mic retaliating to defend himself. Mac hurried over to where they were, Harriet close by her side, apologizing for the whole thing.

"Harm…Mic! Stop it…I said stop it now!" Mac yelled at them frantically.

The commotion had caught the attention of the next-door neighbors, and they were no hurrying over.

Harm threw a punch that went right across his cheek, Mic letting out a stifled groan of pain before kicking him back in the stomach to throw him off.

"I have no idea what you're so pissed about mate, But if you don't stop what you're 'doin you're 'goin to be pretty sorry…" Mic warned him.

Harm fumed at the warning and threw himself back at Mic, "Asshole!"

"Just tell me what the hell you're so buggered up about, Harm!" Mic yelled in frustration as the next-door neighbors managed to extricate them from one another with Harm kicking violently.

"I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU GETTING DRUNK!" Harm roughly yanked himself free from the men's grasps, nearly losing his balance and he struggled to catch his breath. He glanced up at Mac, and saw her head fall. Immediately, guilt washed over him for his behavior and he busied himself just a bit by straightening his uniform. Mic looked at him and Mac in realization, and then took unsteady steps towards Mac, holding her shoulders gently,

"I thought you said nothing happened…did I say something to hurt you, Sarah?"

"Leave her alone Brumby!" Harm shouted.

"Shut up, Harm!" Mac yelled back.

Harm was startled by the sudden scolding, but did as he was told. Mic took a couple more breaths before asking again, "Sarah, I don't know what I may have said…but…"

"Mic, don't," Mac told him, "You didn't do anything…"

"Thanks, Jim, I think we can handle it from here," Harriet said to her neighbor and his two sons, "Nicky…Mike." And then she ran quickly back into the house.

"No sweat Harriet…" the neighbor replied, motioning for his two sons to follow him back, "boys."

"Yeah, thanks," Mac added as they left.

Mac glanced at Harm standing some distance away and then examined Mic to check how bad he was hurt, shaking her head in frustration as Harriet emerged back out with some wet towels to let the two men clean up.

"Mic, you think you'll be okay?" she finally asked after he'd spent some time cleaning up.

"Yeah, luv, no sweat…nothing serious," he assured her.

"You think you can make it home by yourself?" she asked.

Mic gave her a look and then argued, "What about our afternoon?"

She sighed and understood his frustration, but tried to assure him, "We'll have many other afternoons, I just need to talk with him for today, to settle all this."

"What about us, luv?" he argued some more, "Don't we have things to settle?"

Mac put her hand on his chest and replied, "No, we don't, nothing happened that night…I'm okay with it…"

"Are you sure? I didn't say anything to hurt you? Coz if I did…" he told her, "I'll just lynch myself right now, Sarah."

"You didn't, " Mac repeated, and then rested her forehead on his, pulling him in to give him a kiss, "You could never hurt me…"

Mic sighed frustratedly, shooting Harm an infuriated glare, and then saying to Mac quietly, "Maybe that's why I worry."

Mac frowned at his last statement, watching him leave, but she decided not to have the last word. He was entitled to be angry, she told herself, and watched him drive off before glowering at Harm once more. She said nothing, which made him feel worse, wishing that she would yell, scream, something. Instead, she turned around and went back into the house.

"I think you should go in…" Harriet said, not knowing whether to chide him for being impulsive, she felt too sorry for him. Harm's eyes met hers, they were sad, so she said nothing more to the matter as he went past her and into the house.

***********

Outside the Pentagon

Washington, DC

                "How about Chinese?" Clay asked as he locked his car door. He was going to head back to work…they hadn't made arrangements to meet.

                Mark emerged from the shadows and remarked, "What? Not going to invite me in?"

                "Sorry," Clay turned to face him, "Russian spies aren't allowed."

                Mark shrugged, "Chinese will do."

                They headed down the sidewalk at a comfortable pace, Mark letting Clay lead the way. Usually they would meet out in the open so blatantly, but with Mark looking like that…Clay snickered at the getup/

                "So I heard you have something for the Congresswoman," Mark couldn't resist pressing the others buttons, but when he got a reply that almost hinted of some sadness, he thought it better to be more serious.

                "I'm just working on her on this whole thing, nothing more. Anyway, she's seeing someone."

                Mark observed the other and replied, "We are allowed to have lives you know?"

                Clay raised a brow and the other and refuted his words soberly, "Yes and I'm sure that's why you and I are still single."

                "I guess it 'cos we know better." Mark concluded.

                "Anyhow," Clay changed the subject, he was never comfortable in such touchy feely situations, "When did you get back?"

                "Just," the other replied, "Managed to settle the paper work earlier than expected…"

                "How'd our new guy take it?"

                "As well as can be expected. How's your side coming along?"

                "As well as can be expected," Clay replied, "the rest will just have to work itself out…we found the guy who put a glitch in you scenario…"

                "Who?" Mark questioned, he had really wanted to get his hands on the idiot who screwed up his perfect scenario.

                "That's the problem with you, you're too perfectionist," Clay commented earning an irritated glare from the other, "he was one of the death squad members who MIAed during the Geneva project six years back…"

                Mark calculated backwards and raised an eyebrow, "Youngren?"

                "William Youngren." Clay replied, "I had to send a team of four just to get him…"

                "Did you get anything out of him?"

                "I just had him sent over to Eli…"

                "God help him…" Mark commented, "Still can't do it, huh?"

                Clay stopped at the traffic light and pressed the button, keeping a straight face, "Killing someone in a field operation is one thing…conducting and execution…that's a whole other ball game. I'm not Eli. Anyway, that was how the scenario was planned. If someone tried to kill Reese, I send him to Eli, no questions asked."

                Mark nodded, "How'd you catch him?"

                Clay glanced at the other, and then crossed the road, "I'm good."

                The other shook his head and followed, "White is too well trained, we'll never get anything out of him…even with Eli."

                "He's hasn't been on active status for so long…you never know…especially with Eli…"

                Mark shook his head, "In many ways I'm glad I haven't been trained as he has."

                Clay nodded, "Yeah."

                They continued on, keeping a few moments in silence, as though for the man who was about to lose his life that day. Not that he deserved any less of a result, but even Mark in all the bloodshed he'd seen back in Russia and on ops could stomach what White was going to be put through. First there'd be the torture to get the fellow to talk, which of course he wouldn't. That would go on until the life had been drained from his eyes, then finally he'd be executed. They both shuddered at the thought.

                "So how bout Rabb?" Mark finally found it in himself to break the silence, "Is he going to take it?"

                Clay ran the same factors out in his brain, and eventually came to the same conclusion.

"That's a good question."

**********

Bud and Harriet's

1745 ZULU

Harm stayed on the sofa, the one that wasn't facing the staircase that Mac had gone up. He held the ice pack to his bruised knuckles, looking utterly defeated. Baby AJ sat next to him, looking up at his sorry looking godfather. Mac had gone up to her room to change, but hadn't come down for over an hour now. He was beginning to wonder if she'd ever speak to him again. Harriet kind of pitied him, so she didn't rub salt in the wound as she went about her business. But when he asked about whether he should go up, she promptly told him he would not do so and should jolly well stay downstairs until Mac was good and ready to come down to talk to him. He hadn't bargained for this. All he'd done was drop by for a visit, to see AJ. And then he and Harriet had gotten to talking about Mac, and then he found out about Mic getting drunk and sprouting nonsense. And he just lost it. He was going to go over to Brumby's place to straighten the fellow out, but who would have thought he would have shown up at the front door. And he just lost it. Like something had snapped and he just lost it.

"Unca Hwam…" AJ tugged his sleeve

"Yes, AJ?" he looked down at the solemn looking little one.

"Ywe wook tewible…" the little guy said in earnest.

"That's because your Uncle Harm did do something terrible, AJ."

Mac's stern voice came from behind causing both men to turn. She was standing there looking as angry as she'd ever been.

"Uh-oh, Unca Hwam…I thinks yaw in twable…"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy," Harm told his godson.

Harriet emerged from the kitchen with a bag and quickly picked AJ up, "Come on sweetie, we're going to meet daddy for dinner."

"Yway!" the little one exclaimed, obviously not sensing the gravity of the situation. All hell was about to break loose.

"Sarah," Harriet passed her the keys to the backdoor, "Me and Bud will take AJ out for dinner…give you guys some time to…talk."

"Thanks, Harriet," the other replied.

"No problem honey…" the other squeezed her arm, "Say good bye AJ…"

"Bwai Awnt Sewah…"

"Bye, baby," Mac kissed the top of his forehead and then back off as Harm came over to say his goodbyes. He watched her move away and then straightened out AJ's hair as he usually did, "Goodbye, sailor."

                "Bwai, Unca Hwam" AJ replied as Mac disappeared into the kitchen to get a drink.

                "Don't screw this up, Harm," Harriet whispered to him before disappearing out the door.

Harm settled back down in the sofa, watching Mac go from the kitchen, back up to her room in silence. He could hear her grab some things before finally immerging in her sweats once again. She had a pullover in her hands and she threw it at him, telling him to put it on. It was one of his old academy sweaters that he'd loaned her and never gotten back.

"Put it on," she told him coldly, "We're going out for dinner."

He kept his eyes on her as he took off his uniform blazer and pulled on the gray sweater. Mac took the keys from the coffee turned the other way, heading out the door. He adjusted the sweater and ran after her, closing the door behind him.

**********

Freddy King's Chinese

Five blocks from the Pentagon

                "In other words you think his decision rides of Sarah?" Mark asked.

                They had ordered quite a bit. Soya Sauce noodles, sweet and sour chicken, fried broccoli, prawn dumplings, and soup. Some sort of melon thing, Mark liked it. Clay knew the owner of the store, apparently this Nam veteran who was crazy about Chinese and decided to turn his craze into a business. But it was good stuff.

                "Well, you should know," Clay answered, "You were the one quite smitten by her in Chechnya."

                Mark was enjoying his dinner too much to bother arguing back, so he went along, "Ha, the women we pick ay?" bringing his beer up for a corny toast.

                "To the women we pick," Clay agreed.

                "Anyway, seriously now," Mark said, "do you think she'll really go through with it?"

                "Okay…" Clay studied him weirdly, "Are we being serious here?"

                The other frowned and clarified his question, "I'm talking about if she doesn't marry the Aussie, Rabb won't take the case!"

                "I see…" Clay replied unbelieving, but when the other started to look agitated he obliged, "I don't know, it's always hard to tell around those two," he said popping a piece of chicken into his mouth, "Sometimes I think they're just not meant to be…other times I'm not so sure…they haven't been able to get it together so far."

                "Ha…I just don't get how one man like Rabb can keep putting our people on a standstill. First it was Chechnya when we had to send a whole team after one man…now it's this…everything is on hold just waiting for him to make a decision…"

                "You're biased," Clay refuted, "his decisions hinge on Sarah…"

                "I beg to differ," the other argued back.

                "Like I said," Clay said coolly, "you're biased."

                "Idiot."

                "Moron."

                They narrowed their eyes at one another for a moment, and then Mark spoke,

                "Ten bucks says he doesn't take the case…"

                Clay straightened at the challenge, "twenty says he does…"

Mark quickly tired to outdo the other, "Thirty says she ends up with Rabb…"

                "Fifty says she doesn't." Clay added.

                "Fine."

                "I always win…"

                "Like hell you do…"

                "Heh," he snickered, "We'll see."

***********

Near the War Memorial

Washington, DC

                They kept the pace slow and steady, but what was going on inside Harm was far from slow and steady, he was dying just waiting for her to say something. The ride to dinner had been in silence, dinner had been silence, the after-dinner-walk had been in silence. It was just that – silence. The silence was so loud it was all he could hear! Until he couldn't take it anymore...

                "Mac…what the heck is this!" he stopped the walk, reaching out to grab her by the elbow.

                She yanked her arm away and shot back, "Just shut up and follow, Rabb!"

                He let out a frustrated growl, "Is there going to be a point to all this? Coz if you're pissed off why don't you just yell at me instead of walking in silence!"

                "There's definitely more point to you following me in silence than yelling at my fiancé about something you know nothing about!" she jabbed a finger into his shoulder before spinning back around and walking ahead.

                He stood on the spot, stifling the words until they finally came out in an accusation, "He hurt you! He got drunk and hurt you! And you let him!"

                Mac's anger began boiling once more as she retraced her steps, marching right back to where he was, "Now look here, he was drunk! He was sprouting rubbish! I was not affected! And either way how I choose to deal with Mic is none of your business! You made me look like a fool in front of Harriet's neighbors and don't even get me started on the problems you causing just before I'm to be married in two and a half weeks!"

                "I'm sorry…" Harm's gazed dropped to the ground, "I wasn't thinking."

"The problem is you don't think! Why do I have to bother with you before I can get married? Why does any of us have to worry about this at all!"

                Hands that had for the while been flailing about ahead of her in exasperation now dropped back down to her sides, "Forget it, this is not the main reason why we're here…just leave it for now okay?" and she started forward once more, Harm following a few paces behind.

                They crossed a single lane road to the other side, and then cut through a small bit of forestry and came to a clearing. Until now Harm hadn't bothered with where they were heading, all he could think about was how angry Mac was, but presently he recognized the marble edifice easily.

I just never realized how much of who I am has been shaped by my search of him…

                "Mac, listen," he tried to explain, "it's resolved…"

Until next Christmas…when you visit the wall

                "Is it?" she breezed past him towards the memorial.            

                They walked across the grass towards the steps, "I'm not taking the case because of him…The admiral came to me with my father's service records after you left…I know what happened for sure this time…"

This is me trying to turn a negative into a positive.

                "That was what you sad when we got back from Russia the last time…"

"Well now I'm doubly sure…"

"Really?" she said spinning around to face him just before they reached the steps.

You can walk away any time?

                "Y-yeah," he stammered.

Any time.

                "Then walk away from this case." Mac stated her terms plainly.

How about now?

                "Mac, you're over reacting…" he grumbled, moving past her up the stairs.

                This is one case. It's hardly an obsession.

                "No, that was you when I came to see you this morning!" she shot back, following after him.

                You are replacing one obsession with another.

                Harm stopped in front of the black stone, and considered his next opening carefully. She stood next to him awaiting his words, and they finally came,

                "This morning wasn't about my father."

*********

Enroute back to the Pentagon

                "Hurry up," Clay chided him, "You're going to be late…and you're going to make me late."

                "We'll be there in time…hey!" Mark stopped suddenly, pulling Clay back to look in the direction he was looking, "Well 'whadaya know…ha! Eighty paces…one o'clock."

                Clayton used his hands to shield his eyes from the bright street lamp just above, and looked out across the field toward where Mark was pointing. When he finally made out who was there he coolly began aligning himself with the nearby tree, pulling the other along with him. There they were, one Navy Commander and another Marine Colonel, flushed against the backdrop of the black war memorial.

                Mark swatted the back of his hand against Clay and motioned, "Pay up, buddy…"

                "This doesn't prove anything…"

                "Well if it turns out to be nothing, you'll get your fifty back, along with my fifty…" the other argued.

                Clay grudgingly reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills, picking out the fifty and reluctantly putting it in the other's hand. He was sure Mark was determined to keep the satisfied look on his face all the way to Daniel Chang's.

                "Come on," Clay told him sorely, "We're going to be late…"

                Mark took a step ahead to follow him, then stopped for a moment to observe the two one more time. He smiled quietly and bade, "Goodbye, Sarah."

                Clay turned to look at him in his melancholy, and then walked back to usher him along, "Come on, Romeo…never look back."

*********

In front of the War Memorial

She was almost afraid to ask, but forced herself to do so in bid not to show weakness, "Then what was it about?"

Harm glanced at her and then walked a few paces away so that his back was facing her.

"Do you love him?" he said quietly.

"W-what?" she stammered, hoping that she hadn't heard correctly.

Don't ask.

Harm turned around and asked again, "Do you love him?"

 "Why are you doing this?"

"Just answer the question, Mac!"

"No!"

Stop asking me!

"Why not?" he said closing the gap in between them demandingly.

"Because you have no right to ask me that…" she reasoned angrily. Mac had spent the past two days doing everything she could to put things into proper perspective, to put her emotions in check. And now, just when she felt more sure and in control than ever, he was threatening to throw it all out once again.

What do you want?

She took a deep breath, and silently told herself to hold her ground, to not back down, to not allow emotions and questions to overtake her. She wouldn't ask, and he wouldn't answer. They would end this here.

I'm getting married in three weeks.

Harm observed the confusion etched in her face, and decidedly took one step back, realizing he had probably overstepped his boundaries. And he tried the gentler approach, "Mac..."

"Just stop," but she cut him off, "just stop…" pressing her eyes closed to strengthen her resolve, "We can't do this now," she continued, lowering her eyes to the ground.

"But the other night…" Harm persisted, his eyes meeting hers.

What I want most is never to lose you.

In that moment, the memory of that night came back to mind, and as she looked at the pleading in his eyes, she once again felt the strong pull of wanting to give in to the what she saw in them, to find out what he saw when he looked at her that way, to answer the questions they both had. But she knew better she told herself, and bit her lip to sustain her senses. They couldn't do this to Mic, or to Renee, and she let the part of her that was angry with him take over.

"What was the other night?" Mac questioned him, raising her voice in exasperation, "It was just the replay of old memories long past. Fatigue and mental stress leading to a momentary emotional upheaval. Temporary insanity! Nothing more! …That's all it was, Harm! That's all it can ever be!

"I don't believe that."

"...I was crying for Lylyana, Harm…for Lylyana."

Harm went silent. He wanted to retaliate with his own pain, but pulled back because he could see such tiredness in her eyes, and he couldn't do it. He could never bring himself to hurt her on purpose. Mac saw through him, and was sorry she had snapped at him the way she did. So she pleaded with him gently,

"Think about Renee... …I'll think about Mic."

I promise, you'll never lose me.

"Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry." They were silent for some more, then Harm turned to face the stone edifice. It seemed almost menacing with the floor lights illuminating it in the darkness. Like it was looming over them to remind them of who they were – military; governed by it a code of conduct and laws that did not give room for the pinning of their hearts. Mac stepped up to stand beside him, and as she did, his head steadily dropped toward the floor to avoid her eyes, in a deep, nearly anguished heaviness. He had always been there for her, and she had always been there for him. Even with the unspoken boundaries they had put in place these few months, nothing could change the fact that their hearts would always be there for one another. Mac nudged him playfully with an elbow, hoping to cheer him up even if just a little, "Hey, flyboy…don't give me that okay? I want you to be happy, and I want you to be happy for me."

I want you to be happy for me. She placed her right hand gently on his cheek trying to ease the feelings away, but he leaned into her touch, and even though he did so just slightly, it felt as though he had seared through her skin, branding her with that small action. The wave of emotion caused her to tense, scarcely able to breathe. A thousand pictures and thoughts racing through her heart melded as one, tearing it up a thousand different ways all in one moment.

What do you see when you look at me that way?

                Mac./…Harm./ …Do you two know each other?/ …No Sir./ …Yes, Sir./

I see a desirable woman./ …And I see a man who's so afraid of losing control.

Where'd you find this sailor, Sarah?/ …In a rose garden Uncle Matt./

They wrote eternity on this bridge…/ …Is that how long we're going to wait?

No man is interested in being friends with a woman that looks like you!

He knew what he wanted and he went after it

Your problem is you let go too easily

You pushed me away…what was I supposed to do?

Wait./ …For how long?/

Sometimes I think it'll last as long as until you decide you want him.

We're not in Washington…we're not even on the same continent /…Location doesn't change who we are./ Many men would disagree with you./ I know, I disagree with myself sometimes.

I'm so sick of this dance.

Harm, are you in love with Mac?

You were worried about our professional relationship!

Answer the question!

This is not a marriage, okay!

 That's your MO – running away!

Harm, the last thing you need is a third female to complicate your life.

Your rides' here...

Where'd you get three?

…Yeah, but its no tomcat.

Renee…

I was always a sucker for dress whites…

Me…

Red light, Commander!

And Mac.

…Red light?!

                I just…I don't know why you had to go to him so fast…

Did you expect me to stay single forever?

I don't know what I expected….

With all due respect Ma'am, they were fighting over you

That's why I left, Harm, there is no us! There's you and Renee. Mic gave up the NAVY and his country. Would you sacrifice your girlfriend?

We haven't finished talking…/What makes you think we ever will?

Hey, you lose control in my world and you die…

You don't need that lifeline, let go of it before it becomes a noose.

You've come further with me than any other person, I'll never forget that, Mac.

What do you want?/

I want a lot of things…

Mac pulled away from him, tucking her trembling hand into the coat pocket where it belonged. Reluctantly, Harm let her, his face in mournful regret. He saw in her both pain and anger all at once, and he knew it confused her, as it did him.

"Sarah…" his voice broke, her heart along with his. Mac cursed herself for loving the way he said her name, even when it crushed her as it just had. No one could ever say her name the way he did, making her feel every bit of meaning and emotion he felt right through to her soul and in her bones. And she prayed he wouldn't say more. "What I want most…is you."

                That was enough.

Mac wanted to hurt him for what he had just done. She wanted to hurt him and want him all at once, and she hated him for doing it to her. For forcing her to acknowledge and admit knowing full well she would have to feel all the pain of the eventual denial, and the agony of its anticipation. "…I didn't ask you…" she stammered, accusing him as the salt water eased through her defenses, pooling in her dark brown eyes. I can't do this now...why did you have to?…

            "…I didn't ask…" she repeated scooping her face with her hand. Damn you, Harm. I didn't ask…

            "…but we always have." He answered, causing Mac to turn away. He tightened his hold on his pants pocket, trying to control himself, but in so doing his face contorted, creased agony and flushing a painful deep red. He walked a couple of paces away to a nearby bench, nearly collapsing into it. He felt helpless, his body aching with a nauseating weakness. It was already about eight in the evening, so the entire sky was now an endless blanket of darkness, with only the florescent white light from the lampposts illuminating the shadows. He felt dizzy, like the world around was mocking and swallowing him over and over into blackness, violently tumbling him through an endless non-existent rabbit hole. There were voices all around folding into one another; the voices of conversations they'd had, of thoughts they had hidden. He willed for them to stop, but they wouldn't. They just got louder and more, crushing and louder and more. Over and over and over again. Then just as it grew deafening, it stopped.

All he heard in the quiet around, was the sound of Mac standing aside from him, stifling the tears that were running down her cheeks. They couldn't tell who felt more pain, or if they were feeling each other's pain. All around was just a hollow, denying and unfeeling cold touch…its name too multifaceted to ever completely define.

Do you love him?

Do you love Renee?

We the jury find the defendants guilty on all counts.

**********

Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv

Exact Location Unknown

2032 ZULU

                He felt the cold metal that restrained his hands, and inside he did tremble, but he willed himself not to show weakness. All he saw was pitch black thanks to the visor they had placed over his eyes, and he worried that he wouldn't even see the hands of death reaching out for him, but in actual fact, what he feared most was the prospect that he would never see death, at all, only hope for its coming. He had heard one of the operatives say that the interrogation would begin at 2100, but in the black, there was no sense of time, for mere seconds felt like eternity past.

                It had just been another job, but then again in this life, who could tell which would be his last? Each person knew that someday his time would come. Years ago he had been naïve enough to believe he could leave it all behind, but the truth was, once you have been initiated into the job, you were baptized till death. Once an assassin, always an assassin. He went in with ideals of patriotism, defender of his people, knight of justice. They were all just pretty facades to make him feel like less of a murderer. He always wondered what it would be like, the day he could actually feel his last breath dawning upon him in the distance, was it all they said it was? That life would flash across in an instant? Nope. It definitely was not as divine as that. At least for him it wasn't. All that came to mind were regrets, of love left behind to serve a darker cause, of the child he disowned as youth in moment of folly. Every disservice he had done others, every regret he'd ever chosen in the course of his fleeting life. And thousand ways he would have relived his life had he the chance.

                "Well well…what do we have here?"

The voice was familiar…

"I suppose the days of your existence are just running through your mind right now aren't they?"

He opened his dry and cracked lips to speak out, but nothing came out. He tried again…and only silence greeted him.

"Don't try so hard William, as you know chemical engineering has come a long way since you left the community six years ago…this is just one of our little toys."

                Panic started to rise steadily within him, but he showed little of it. But he did utter up a little prayer, suddenly reminded of a time when his grandmother had taken him to Church one Christmas Eve. He remembered what the Anglican priest had said, just one line he recalled to memory: Almighty God forgives all those who truly repent…

                "Oh yes…I'm sure you're wondering if I'm here to put you through a long and painful torture session, but thank goodness for you…"

                Dear God, I am truly sorry…he began as he felt the prick of the needle. He didn't make it to Amen.

***********