Chapter 18

A woman's scream echoed through the thick jungle growth from somewhere up the trail.  Harm bolted to his feet, racing toward the sound before he could consciously command his body to move.  Adrenaline poured through his system, sharpening sight and sound, and turning time into a liquid thing.  Memory drew him back to his days in Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam, and as he ran he instinctively swept the trail ahead for signs of land mines or trip wires.  Not that he really expected to find anything, but the training, the experience, ran deep.  Inside he was very frightened of what he might see when he caught up to Nikki Upton.

Harm burst into the clearing Nikki must have been looking for and spotted the second cameraman.  He was standing near the lip of what had to be a huge cliff, camera forgotten in his hand as he tried to peer over.  Near where he stood, a portion of the edge looked to have collapsed, leaving a sloping divot in its surface.

"Help me!" Nikki screamed again, the sound echoing up from the front of the cliff.  Harm felt a wash of intense relief, followed by dismay.  She was still alive… and in a great deal of trouble.

"Get back!" Harm snapped at the cameraman.  "Do you want to fall?" 

The man turned to stare at him, then obediently backed away.  He watched the cliff edge fearfully.  "She just… disappeared," he told Harm.  "One minute she was looking over the edge, the next she was just… gone."

Ignoring him, Harm dropped his pack about ten feet from the edge and dropped to his stomach, crawling forward on elbows and knees.  He approached the lip cautiously, testing each position before trusting his weight to it.  He knew landslides from Southeast Asia as well.

He stuck his head over the edge and looked down.  Nikki was maybe ninety feet below him, her form obscured by a fleshy-leafed bush whose branches she clung to.  Harm could see little of her but bare legs and a pair of hiking boots dangling beneath the green mass.  The cliff face turned in just below the bush, leaving her suspended over empty space. 

"Nikki!" he called.

"Harm?"  There was a clear note of hysteria in her voice.  "Is that you?  Harm, help me! I'm going to fall!"

"It's me," he answered, trying to keep his voice calm, reassuring.  "You're going to be fine.  Just hold on." 

"No!  Harm, help me!  It's pulling out by the roots!"

Harm studied the flowered bush, which did seem to be bent at an odd angle.  He turned quickly to look back at the cameramen.  The one who'd gone with Nikki was standing a short ways back, watching everything through his camera lens.  The other had his emergency radio to his mouth and was speaking urgently into it.

"How long for them to send help?" he asked the man with the radio.

"One of our helicopters will be here in about two minutes," the man answered, "but they don't have rescue equipment.  Mr. Ariel says a Coast Guard helicopter is coming with a search and rescue team."

"ETA?"

The cameraman looked blankly at him.

"How long?"

"Fifteen minutes, maybe more."

Harm shook his head.  "She doesn't have fifteen minutes.  That bush isn't going to hold much longer."  He poked his head back out over the cliff edge.  "Hang on, Nikki! I'm coming down to get you."

"Please hurry!"

Harm scrambled back from the precipice and regained his feet.  He hurried to his pack, knelt, and began digging out the climbing equipment he'd been given.  He already knew the inventory and had made a cursory check before they left, but now he checked each item with quick, focused intensity.  He had a rappelling harness and about a hundred fifty feet of rope, and, thankfully, a pair of climbing gloves. 

Harm stood and began unwinding the rope.  "Do either of you have any climbing experience?" he demanded of the two cameramen. 

The one with the radio nodded.  "A little."

"Good, then get over here."  The man did.  Harm handed him the rope.  "What's your name?"

"Donald-- Don," the man replied. 

"All right, Don.  Hopefully, you understand what I'm doing here."  He glanced at the tree line on the far side of the small clearing.  "Take the rope and loop it around that tree."  He pointed to the appropriate one.  It had a thick trunk and shaggy bark that might provide some added friction.  "You're going to have to lower me.  There's not nearly enough rope here to rappel.  It's going to be close as is."  The tree he'd indicated stood a good twenty, twenty-five, feet from the lip. 

Don nodded and went.  Harm watched him for a moment to make sure he really did have some clue what he was supposed to do, then strapped on the climbing harness.  He looked up when his ears reported the blade noise of the Temptation Cruise helicopter.  It was too high pitched to be the Coast Guard chopper.

The bright yellow helicopter crested the mountains on the far side of the valley then dipped downward for a better look.  Somewhat to Harm's surprise, the pilot kept a goodly distance between his bird and the cliff.  He was grateful.  Had the helicopter come too close, the vibrations could have further jeopardized Nikki's life, and his own.  The helicopter flew back and forth, seeming to pace midair as the passengers watched what was happening.

Harm made himself ignore everything but his climbing gear.  He attached the rope to his harness and checked the tension.  Don stood ready with the other end of the rope looped around the tree.  He had threaded it behind his back to allow him to use his body weight to counter Harm's.  Nodding to Don, Harm walked to the edge of the cliff, turned, and slowly leaned back over empty space.  The rope and harness took his weight. Harm began to walk down the cliff.

He drew even with the bush Nikki clung to just about the time his line lurched to a stop.  He could see her through the branches, scraped and bloodied and staring up at him with desperate hope in her eyes.  She had wrapped one elbow around the base of the bush, a stalk perhaps two inches in diameter.  Harm could see where the bush had begun to tear away from the cliff, exposing long, skinny roots that snaked back into the stone.

"Don't move," Harm told her.  She nodded and tightened her grip on the bush.

He looked up.  "Don, I need about three more feet!" he called toward the invisible men above.  He couldn't quite reach her from there.

After a moment, the second cameraman, whose name Harm didn't know, appeared at the edge.  He appeared to still be filming.  "He says there's no more!  He's at the tree!" he called down.

Harm muttered a string of curses.  Three feet short.  Now what?  Nikki had already dropped her backpack, so there was no real way to lighten the load the overburdened bush was carrying.

The idea that leapt into Harm's mind made him shake his head at himself.  No, too dangerous.  But even as he thought it, the bush gave way another inch.  Nikki let out a little mewl of terror. 

Harm tightened his grip on the rope.  I must be out of my mind. 

Very carefully, Harm inverted himself until he was dangling headfirst with his back to the uneven stone.  The climbing harness really wasn't intended to be used that way.  It wasn't secure.  Harm felt the nylon straps bite into his hip bones.  That contact was now the only thing that kept him from falling five hundred feet or more.  Luckily, Harm wasn't intimidated by heights.  He hooked the rope with one ankle like a circus performer to give him better stability and extended his arms under the bush toward Nikki.

"You ready to get out of here?" he asked casually, as if he were talking about leaving a restaurant.  The more confident she was, the higher her chances of survival.

Nikki nodded, her face lighting with a tiny smile. 

"All right, then.  Take your right hand and reach over and grab my wrist.  Not my hand, my wrist.  Do you understand?"

She nodded again, swallowing convulsively.  "Just don't drop me, o.k.?"  Very slowly, she let go with her right hand and reached for him.  Harm had to smile.  She was doing her best to be game, and was keeping her head.

Her fingers closed on his wrist.  Harm wrapped his hand around hers in return, keenly aware of how small her arm seemed in his grip. Nikki's other arms remained locked around the bush's trunk and still bore the majority of her weight.  Her legs dangled over empty space, making it impossible for her to brace herself.

Harm kept his gaze locked with Nikki's.  "O.k.  Now for the hard part.  You have to let go of the bush." 

Nikki blanched.

Harm stared into her eyes, trying to impart courage to her from that contact.  "Gravity will swing you this direction, but you aren't going to fall.  I've got you.  I'm not going to let go, so you aren't going to fall."  That is, as long as me and this harness stay properly connected.  He smiled encouragingly, not letting his thoughts show.

"Ready?"

Nikki's grip on the bush tightened.  She took a deep breath, her eyes terrified.  "I can't."

"Yes, you can.  Look at me, Nikki."  Obediently, her eyes fastened on him.  "Do you trust me?"

Slowly, she nodded.

"I will not let you fall.  Now let go of the bush and reach for me."  He held out his other hand.

With a convulsive motion, Nikki released her hold on the shrub.  Just for a moment it seemed like her hand would cross the distance to his, but then gravity took hold.  She swung free, hanging solely from the one arm Harm held.  She screamed in terror, her free hand instinctively flinging outward at the sensation of falling.

His own heart pounding in fear as the harness shifted against his hips, Harm reached for her.  "Grab my hand!"

Nikki reached up blindly and after a few very scary moments, Harm managed to capture her wrist.  The change in momentum swung them both into the stone cliff.  Harm grunted in pain as sharp protrusions jabbed him in the back.

As he'd intended, Nikki hung facing toward the cliff.  He pulled her upward by brute strength, his shoulders screaming.  "Get your toes into the rock."  The instruction came out as a gasp.  The point where the stone wall dipped inward was now approximately even with her knees.

Nikki scrambled, but managed to get her feet up and planted.  As she began to shift her weight to her legs, she was able to raise herself, putting her head level with Harm's.  The precarious position meant he was still straining to keep her from falling backward, but it was a lot better than it had been.

 "Good.  Now find a hand hold," he told her.

Following his instructions, Nikki got her hands onto the rocks and was soon clinging to the sheer stone face.  Harm let go of her completely.  He shifted himself a couple of feet away and gratefully turned right side up.  Spots danced in front of his eyes for a moment, something he was familiar with from pulling g's.  He ignored it.

Now in a more secure position but still a bit higher than Nikki, Harm could reach down with one hand to grab the back waistband of her khaki shorts, steadying her as she inched her way upward.  Harm could see her limbs trembling with each movement and guessed she wouldn't be able to do much more.  Silent tears trailed down her cheeks, though the only sound she made was the harsh gasping of her breath.

When she'd climbed to a point that put her even with him, Harm simply moved over behind her, straddling her.  He found solid footholds, then wrapped one arm around her ribcage, supporting her and bracing them both against the stone face.  Nikki's hands closed spasmodically around his arm.  A tiny sob escaped her as she leaned into him.

Harm took a deep breath, allowing himself to feel relief.

"We made it," he told her with an encouraging smile.  "It's going to be all right.  We can wait here for the Coast Guard search and rescue team."  He made himself say the name out rather than calling it SAR, as he normally would.  He yelled up to Don, telling him to tie off the line.  He had to be getting very tired.

Tucked against his chest, Nikki was silent.  They waited.  Ten minutes later, the whump whump of the Coast Guard's HH-60 recovery helicopter filled the air around them.  Harm turned his head to look, spotting the distinctive orange and white paint scheme easily as the helicopter approached.  The Temptation Cruise helicopter backed off a little further, probably at the Coast Guard pilot's instruction.

Harm and Nikki watched as the HH-60 came to a hover above them.  The door opened and a crewman slowly descended on a line.  Harm could see the second harness attached just below the crewman.  The pilot's aim was dead on.  The crewman came straight to them. 

"You folks o.k.?" he asked when he reached them.  Beneath the white helmet and tinted visor, his face was nearly invisible.

Harm nodded.  "We're fine now."

The crewman braced himself against the stone as he and Harm worked to fasten the second harness around Nikki.

"Well done, sir," the crewman told Harm as he tested the connections. 

"Thanks." Harm bit his lip.  It felt odd to be sirred as a civilian rather than as an officer.  He wondered how much he'd done to compromise his mission by his actions that day.  Not that he would have done anything differently, but…

"Are you ready?" the crewman asked Nikki. 

She nodded, but as the winch inside the helicopter began to reel them up, she grabbed for Harm, nearly strangling him in the process of trying to get her arms around his neck.  Her eyes were wide, terrified.

"Don't let go of me!  I don't want to fall."  She buried her face against his neck.

The crewman halted the winch with a quick hand signal to his partner in the helicopter while Harm struggled to loosen Nikki's death grip.

"Hey."  He managed to gain enough space to look into her pale, drawn face.  She'd kept her head while her life depended on it, but now she was losing the battle with hysteria.  "You're safe, o.k.?  The crewman is going to take you up to that helicopter up there, and then he'll come back for me."  He pointed upward as he spoke.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

At that, she let go.  Harm watched as she was taken up into the helicopter.  When the crewman returned, he quickly attached the rescue line to his harness and released the other one.  Drifting free of the cliff, Harm balanced his weight in preparation for the short ride up to the chopper.  It wasn't quite like flying to hang suspended like that, but it was still fun.

"You've done this before," the crewman said as the winch hauled them upward.  His tone made it a question.

Harm considered his reply.  He could say any number of things, make all kinds of excuses, but it was hard to be so conservative after the events of the past half-hour. 

Instead, he winked at the crewman and said nothing.

#

Mac was nearly frantic by the time the Coast Guard helicopter appeared over the trees.  All she knew was that someone from Harm's party had gone over a cliff and there'd been a rescue attempt.  All of the other contestants' groups had been recalled to the landing to wait for news. Since then, Mac's imagination had conjured every possible scenario in which Harm was either badly hurt or killed, though she knew he was probably the least likely person to fall off a cliff.  He didn't take stupid risks.  But all she could think of was how much it would hurt to lose him now that she'd finally found him.

The HH-60 settled on the concrete landing pad that had been constructed for the show, its rotors throwing up a choking cloud of sand and dust.  Covering her mouth with her hand, Mac struggled forward.  She waited impatiently at the edge of the pad as the rotors wound down.

The main door opened in the side of the aircraft and a crewman in an orange jumpsuit climbed out.  He turned to help a rather battered-looking Nikki Upton out of the helicopter.  Harm followed on his own, and Mac's heart leapt into her throat.  Some small part of her brain catalogued his condition, noting the bits of blood that decorated his elbows and streaked his shirt, and the painful deliberation with which he moved.  But when he caught sight of Mac he smiled his perfect, patented flyboy smile, and all of her fears evaporated.

Mac rushed forward.  For the first time in their many years of friendship, she allowed herself to act on the feelings that surged inside her whenever Harm put himself in danger.  She threw herself into her husband's arms, indulging her need to hold him, touch him.

Harm hugged her back.  "Hey, Ninja Girl.  Don't tell me you were worried about me."  His voice was full of laughter.

Mac grinned, knowing he could read the truth in her eyes.  "Nah.  I just missed you."

Chuckling, Harm released her, but kept an arm about her waist as they moved away from the helicopter.  Mac was aware of Nikki Upton watching them from where the Coast Guard medic was examining her, a peculiar expression on her face.  Mac deliberately turned away.

"What happened?" she asked Harm.

He shook his head.  "I guess she was standing at the edge of the cliff.  It gave way, and she fell about ninety feet before managing to stop her fall."  He glanced in Nikki's direction.  "She's in pretty good shape, all things considered."

"Thanks to you, no doubt."

He grinned, but whatever reply he might have made was lost when one of the Coast Guard crew approached them.  He held a first aid kit in one hand.

"Sir, I came to make sure you're all right.  You're bleeding in a couple of places that I can see."

Harm glanced down at himself, obviously surprised, then shrugged.  Mac helped him shed his ruined shirt, noting how gingerly he moved with new concern.

"What did you do?  Crack a rib?"  She kept her voice light.  She'd seen Harm chafe when his various girlfriends had tried to mother him.  She doubted she'd have much more success.

Shaking his head, Harm settled on the edge of the landing pad.  "No, it's all in my shoulders.  I'm sure I pulled something-- probably a few somethings."  He gave her a rueful smile as she sat down beside him.  "I'm getting too old to play hero."

Mac looked him over.  He was a mess of scrapes and bruises, but nothing that looked like it would hurt for more than a few days.  Her eyes traced the clean lines of his chest, watching the subtle play of muscles as he moved, breathed.

"I don't think so."

She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until the crewman tending Harm chuckled.  Mac flushed and looked away, covering her mouth with one hand.  Yep, that's me.  Harmon Rabb's personal groupie.  The thought made her smile.

After a moment, Harm shifted his seat until his thigh brushed hers.  "So how was your day, dear?"

Mac chuckled.  "It was fine until you called me dear."

He laughed.  Mac joined him.  She was amazed by how different she felt now compared to all the other times she'd been with Harm after he came back from something dangerous. Then, she'd had to fight to keep her fear, her rage, her relief all bottled up-- invisible.  Today she could openly admit her relief and laugh her fears away.

Mac looked at her husband, wondering why.  There are no more regrets between us, she finally decided.  That was the difference.  Hopefully, they would never have to live with regrets again, not where each other was concerned.

Mac reached over to take Harm's hand, relishing the feel of his fingers closing around hers.  No more regrets, she repeated, this time making the words a promise.

Note from Valerie: I promise next chapter will show the rest of the JAG crew's reactions to what's going on.