"Webb, you've got ten seconds to explain," Harm said threateningly, standing over the dazed agent.
Mac observed the scene for about five seconds before determining that things were quickly on their way to a full-out, grade-A disaster. Carefully, she stepped up next to Harm and put a gentle restraining hand on his arm. "Cool your jets, there, flyboy," she told him.
"But, Mac.. He... Mercedes... they..."
She stepped in a bit closer before speaking again, this time in a low but forceful tone. "Harm, Mercedes is a mature adult in her thirties. Like it or not, she makes her own decisions."
"But, Mac..."
"Furthermore, might I remind you that we have slightly more pressing things to deal with than your cousin's love life right now? Look," she said, stalling another protest from Harm, "If you really want to beat the stuffing out of Webb, wait until we're out of Russia. Heck, you could probably get the Admiral to help you."
He sighed, visibly deflating. "You're right--"
"As usual."
He shot her a look before continuing. "For now," he finished. "But no promises about later."
It was her turn to sigh. "We'll jump off that bridge when we come to it," she commented dryly. "For now, can I leave you boys alone while I go track down Mercedes?"
"'Boys', Mac?" Harm asked wryly. His only response was a raised eyebrow and a pointed look. "Yes, you can."
"And you promise not to hurt Webb?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. Stay here; I'll be back." With that, she disappeared in the direction Mercedes had gone.
Harm went back to the van and sat in the front, door open, as Webb struggled to his feet for a second time, rubbing his jaw. As he made his way over to sit on the bumper of the van, Webb glanced at Harm before muttering, "Well, at least nothing's broken this time."
****
Mac found Mercedes a short distance away, sitting slumped against a tree, her bag next to her. Dropping down to sit next to her, Mac chose her words carefully, trying for the light, joking approach that worked so well with Harm. "Well...at least it sounds like you've had a better time in Russia than I have," she said wryly.
Mercedes snorted derisively. "I don't imagine that would take much."
"True," Mac agreed, then paused before speaking again. "That was a rather impressive performance back there."
"Which one, the driving or the conniption fit?" Mercedes asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Both, actually," Mac admitted, laughing. "Although you missed the encore for the latter."
Mercedes groaned. "Oh no. What did my idiot cousin do, or do I not want to know?" she said.
"Waited till Webb got to his feet and them punched him."
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
"He didn't hurt him..." Mercedes asked uncertainly.
"No... at least it didn't seem like it..." Mac bit her lip then continued. "But Webb did end up on his six in the dirt again."
Mercedes stared at Mac, wide-eyed, for a moment before breaking up laughing. "Oh, man," she got out, "I would've paid good money to see that."
"It was pretty funny," Mac admitted with a snicker.
Mercedes sighed dramatically. "Men. Can't live with 'em, damn difficult to get away with shooting 'em," she commented, which only made them both laugh harder.
After they managed to calm down a bit, both fell silent for a while before Mac spoke up again. "If you want to talk about it..." she offered tentatively.
"Sleeping with Webb? Not right now," Mercedes answered, "But maybe later. Everything else that's going on? Maybe. But we probably ought to get back and make sure they guys haven't throttled each other."
Mac slowly got to her feet, stretching. "True, although I made Harm promise not to hurt him."
"Aw, they're fine, then. Harm's never broken a promise in his life, and never will," Mercedes commented as she got to her feet. "He'd rather have all his teeth pulled without anesthetic first."
"I've noticed," Mac replied, watching as the other woman scooped up the heavy knapsack and swung it over her shoulder.
"Yeah, well, you would too if--" Mercedes caught herself. "Actually, he probably wouldn't want me telling you that," she finished, an indecisive look on her face.
"What?" Mac pressed.
"Why he'll never make a promise he won't or can't keep," CD answered. "I guess you could say it's a bit of a family secret," she admitted.
Mac regarded CD for a moment before speaking. "It has to do with his Dad, doesn't it?" she asked quietly.
CD didn't answer immediately, although her eyebrows rose in mild surprise. Slowly, she sat down again, gesturing for Mac to do the same. "If we're going to continue this conversation, you might want to sit down again. This may take a bit."
Mac nodded, then sat. "So?"
Mercedes took a deep breath, then looked up at Mac. "Some of this I know for a fact, and some of it is speculation. Regardless, this is never to be repeated," she said sternly, getting a nod of agreement from Mac before she continued. "I asked Harm about it, when we were kids. Just out of curiosity, you know. All he said was, "Christmas." Later, I asked Aunt Trish what he meant. I found out that Uncle Harm had promised to call on that Christmas day." She paused. "I think you can figure out the rest."
Mac was silent for a few moments. "I wondered if it was something like that," she admitted.
"Yeah. I'm sure my Uncle didn't think about it... was sure that he'd make that call." Mercedes smiled weakly. "I'm sure I don't have to explain the whole aviator arrogance thing to you. But all a six year old kid would know is that Dad broke his promise." She sighed deeply. "Gott in Himmel, what mess our family is."
Mac looked up in surprise. "What? You and Harm turned out great," she said, confused.
Another mirthless grin. "Yeah, and our fathers were both so addicted to their jobs that it killed them both, then passed those addictions on to their children, who both nearly did the same." She saw Mac's shocked expression, and explained. "Sorry. I assumed you knew. My dad was a racer, too." She looked away before adding in a flat tone, "He was killed in a testing crash at Imola when I was twelve."
"Mercedes..." Mac began.
CD cut her off with a sharp wave of her hand. "It was a long time ago, Mac. Forget about it. Besides, we need to get back." And with that, Mercedes stood, swinging the bag over her shoulder and started back through the woods, leaving Mac to scramble to her feet and catch up.
***************
The two women returned to the amusing sight of Webb rubbing his jaw and muttering. Harm, meanwhile, simply sat in the front, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Webb. After taking in the scene, CD turned to look at Mac. "Men," she mouthed, rolling her eyes, before turning back to the two. "So," she announced, "any particular reason we've stopped in this scenic locale, Webb?"
The agent looked up. "Yeah. We're camping here for the night while I try to figure out how to get us out of this mess." He glanced back at the cars. "We need to find some slightly less conspicuous transportation, and unless someone else has already used it, there might be some. Come on, the farm house is this way."
************
A short while later, the foursome was sitting in front of the fireplace in the old house. Decrepit-looking from the outside, inside it was in good condition and adequately stocked with supplies. Webb had made a brief trip to the nearby barn to find a nearly antique, battered-looking Russian car. While not exactly the best, it would serve as good, inconspicuous transportation to the next town.
In the meantime, they had, through some miracle, agreed to try and hide on the public railway system and make their way to the Black Sea, where Webb had contacts that could then get them out of the country. For the moment, though, they were all relaxing as best they could in front of the fireplace.
Still, the silence in the room was palpable. Harm appeared to be gazing into the fire, but she'd caught him more than once glancing at the others in the room, alternating between Webb and Mercedes. Harm watched his cousin with an undetermined mix of emotions. On the other hand, he regarded Webb with blatant hostility; thankfully, the agent simply ignored it. Besides, he was much more interested in sneaking worried periodic glances at Mercedes. As for Mercedes, she simply gazed into the fire, glassy-eyed and seemingly lost in a world of her own.
Mac decided that was not good; besides the tension and silence was beginning to get to her. Deciding to try and engage the other woman in conversation, she asked, "Mercedes?"
"Yeah?" she responded, not looking away from the flames.
"Ummmm...Where on earth did you get that car?"
Harm finally spoke up. "I was kinda wondering about that myself," he admitted with a slight grin.
Mercedes finally turned to look at them, and grinned. "Same place Webb and I got the Benz we were driving earlier," she said. "Stole it from a mafiya nightclub parking lot."
"How the hell did you pull that off?" Webb asked, a slight note of awe in his voice. It was clear he was having trouble believing she'd actually succeeded with such a feat.
"Please," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's not like it was difficult." An evil glint crept into her eyes as she noticed both Harm and Mac were watching intently. Maybe it was time for a bit of the payback Webb so richly deserved.
"Weeeeellll...." She began, dragging out the word, "I sorta took out one of the guards and then snuck in and hotwired the thing."
That had gotten Webb's attention. "*You* took out one of the guards," he said in flat disbelief.
"Yes, that's what I said," CD answered, frustration creeping into her voice.
"And just how did you do that?"
"Would you like me to show you?" Mercedes shot back in a too-sweet voice. Meanwhile, Harm and Mac glanced at each other uncertainly. This was either going to get very interesting or very ugly---quite possibly both.
"Please," Clay answered sarcastically, getting to his feet and crossing his arms.
Mercedes did the same. "As you wish," she commented snidely. "Basically, I used the oldest trick in the book, and a bit of my extensive anatomical knowledge." With a jerk, she pulled off the black fedora and tossed it to Mac, then pulled her hair loose from its knot. A quick shake, and it fell loose, fanning about her face. Next, she tossed off her coat, then unbuttoned the top three buttons of her shirt.
Harm looked at Mac, his eyes wide in alarm. Obviously, this was a side of his cousin that had him more than a little worried. For her part, Mac returned his worried glance, one thought in her mind: Uh-oh. Webb was either going to need painkillers or a cold shower in very short order.
But it was far too late for anyone to back out... especially him, Webb realized. As they did earlier, Mercedes's eyes locked on to Clay, but the message buried in their depths was much different. Rather than stating she wanted to throttle him, her sapphire gaze promised a different and much more enjoyable physical activity. She sauntered over to him, and Clay began mentally repeating a message to himself: *Do not touch her or Harm will kill you. *
She sidled up to him, leaning on a shoulder, and Clay couldn't help the quick downward glance... and the glimpse of sheer black lace that was instantly burned into his memory. Oh *crap*....
Mercedes turned to glance at Harm and Mac, and couldn't resist a wink. Mac had to nearly bite her tongue to keep from laughing, but a small snicker managed to escape. Harm turned to her, toning down his glower only slightly. "Would you care to tell me what is so damn funny?" he hissed, whispering.
Mac gave him a dumb look. "If you'd quit scowling and pay attention, you'd see," she whispered back.
"See what? Webb and my cousin getting far too friendly?" he shot back, still scowling.
Mac rolled her eyes. "No. Webb getting played like a cheap piano. Looks like the Tin Man may have met his match." Harm's face went from scowling to uncertain. "Just watch," she told him, then waited.
Sure enough, between the fingers caressing the base of his neck and whatever it was she was whispering in a low, sultry tone in his ear, Webb was at his limits, and completely distracted. Which was, of course, exactly where Mercedes Rabb wanted him.
Slowly, the hand on his neck worked its way around to the side, nimble fingers teasingly caressing his earlobe, sliding behind his ear... and suddenly, Webb's knees went out from under him as he collapsed in a heap. Harm and Mac watched in surprise as CD quickly stepped away and rebuttoned her shirt, before bending down next to Clay. In an instant, she was all business again.
"Mr. Webb," she announced, "Let me give you a bit of advice. Do not challenge someone to "take you out" who has an extensive knowledge of human anatomy... which includes the location of every major nerve junction in the body."
Quickly redoing her hair in its customary bun, she donned her coat. Retrieving her hat from Mac, she told them, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go grab a bit of air before retiring for the night," she said, scooping up the ubiquitous knapsack and swinging it over a shoulder.
Harm broke in. "Um, CD? Do we need to get help for Webb?"
She gave her cousin a wry glance. "Medical help, no. The effects should wear off in a bit. Any other sort of help... that's another story." With that, she disappeared out the door.
TBC.....
Mac observed the scene for about five seconds before determining that things were quickly on their way to a full-out, grade-A disaster. Carefully, she stepped up next to Harm and put a gentle restraining hand on his arm. "Cool your jets, there, flyboy," she told him.
"But, Mac.. He... Mercedes... they..."
She stepped in a bit closer before speaking again, this time in a low but forceful tone. "Harm, Mercedes is a mature adult in her thirties. Like it or not, she makes her own decisions."
"But, Mac..."
"Furthermore, might I remind you that we have slightly more pressing things to deal with than your cousin's love life right now? Look," she said, stalling another protest from Harm, "If you really want to beat the stuffing out of Webb, wait until we're out of Russia. Heck, you could probably get the Admiral to help you."
He sighed, visibly deflating. "You're right--"
"As usual."
He shot her a look before continuing. "For now," he finished. "But no promises about later."
It was her turn to sigh. "We'll jump off that bridge when we come to it," she commented dryly. "For now, can I leave you boys alone while I go track down Mercedes?"
"'Boys', Mac?" Harm asked wryly. His only response was a raised eyebrow and a pointed look. "Yes, you can."
"And you promise not to hurt Webb?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. Stay here; I'll be back." With that, she disappeared in the direction Mercedes had gone.
Harm went back to the van and sat in the front, door open, as Webb struggled to his feet for a second time, rubbing his jaw. As he made his way over to sit on the bumper of the van, Webb glanced at Harm before muttering, "Well, at least nothing's broken this time."
****
Mac found Mercedes a short distance away, sitting slumped against a tree, her bag next to her. Dropping down to sit next to her, Mac chose her words carefully, trying for the light, joking approach that worked so well with Harm. "Well...at least it sounds like you've had a better time in Russia than I have," she said wryly.
Mercedes snorted derisively. "I don't imagine that would take much."
"True," Mac agreed, then paused before speaking again. "That was a rather impressive performance back there."
"Which one, the driving or the conniption fit?" Mercedes asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Both, actually," Mac admitted, laughing. "Although you missed the encore for the latter."
Mercedes groaned. "Oh no. What did my idiot cousin do, or do I not want to know?" she said.
"Waited till Webb got to his feet and them punched him."
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
"He didn't hurt him..." Mercedes asked uncertainly.
"No... at least it didn't seem like it..." Mac bit her lip then continued. "But Webb did end up on his six in the dirt again."
Mercedes stared at Mac, wide-eyed, for a moment before breaking up laughing. "Oh, man," she got out, "I would've paid good money to see that."
"It was pretty funny," Mac admitted with a snicker.
Mercedes sighed dramatically. "Men. Can't live with 'em, damn difficult to get away with shooting 'em," she commented, which only made them both laugh harder.
After they managed to calm down a bit, both fell silent for a while before Mac spoke up again. "If you want to talk about it..." she offered tentatively.
"Sleeping with Webb? Not right now," Mercedes answered, "But maybe later. Everything else that's going on? Maybe. But we probably ought to get back and make sure they guys haven't throttled each other."
Mac slowly got to her feet, stretching. "True, although I made Harm promise not to hurt him."
"Aw, they're fine, then. Harm's never broken a promise in his life, and never will," Mercedes commented as she got to her feet. "He'd rather have all his teeth pulled without anesthetic first."
"I've noticed," Mac replied, watching as the other woman scooped up the heavy knapsack and swung it over her shoulder.
"Yeah, well, you would too if--" Mercedes caught herself. "Actually, he probably wouldn't want me telling you that," she finished, an indecisive look on her face.
"What?" Mac pressed.
"Why he'll never make a promise he won't or can't keep," CD answered. "I guess you could say it's a bit of a family secret," she admitted.
Mac regarded CD for a moment before speaking. "It has to do with his Dad, doesn't it?" she asked quietly.
CD didn't answer immediately, although her eyebrows rose in mild surprise. Slowly, she sat down again, gesturing for Mac to do the same. "If we're going to continue this conversation, you might want to sit down again. This may take a bit."
Mac nodded, then sat. "So?"
Mercedes took a deep breath, then looked up at Mac. "Some of this I know for a fact, and some of it is speculation. Regardless, this is never to be repeated," she said sternly, getting a nod of agreement from Mac before she continued. "I asked Harm about it, when we were kids. Just out of curiosity, you know. All he said was, "Christmas." Later, I asked Aunt Trish what he meant. I found out that Uncle Harm had promised to call on that Christmas day." She paused. "I think you can figure out the rest."
Mac was silent for a few moments. "I wondered if it was something like that," she admitted.
"Yeah. I'm sure my Uncle didn't think about it... was sure that he'd make that call." Mercedes smiled weakly. "I'm sure I don't have to explain the whole aviator arrogance thing to you. But all a six year old kid would know is that Dad broke his promise." She sighed deeply. "Gott in Himmel, what mess our family is."
Mac looked up in surprise. "What? You and Harm turned out great," she said, confused.
Another mirthless grin. "Yeah, and our fathers were both so addicted to their jobs that it killed them both, then passed those addictions on to their children, who both nearly did the same." She saw Mac's shocked expression, and explained. "Sorry. I assumed you knew. My dad was a racer, too." She looked away before adding in a flat tone, "He was killed in a testing crash at Imola when I was twelve."
"Mercedes..." Mac began.
CD cut her off with a sharp wave of her hand. "It was a long time ago, Mac. Forget about it. Besides, we need to get back." And with that, Mercedes stood, swinging the bag over her shoulder and started back through the woods, leaving Mac to scramble to her feet and catch up.
***************
The two women returned to the amusing sight of Webb rubbing his jaw and muttering. Harm, meanwhile, simply sat in the front, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Webb. After taking in the scene, CD turned to look at Mac. "Men," she mouthed, rolling her eyes, before turning back to the two. "So," she announced, "any particular reason we've stopped in this scenic locale, Webb?"
The agent looked up. "Yeah. We're camping here for the night while I try to figure out how to get us out of this mess." He glanced back at the cars. "We need to find some slightly less conspicuous transportation, and unless someone else has already used it, there might be some. Come on, the farm house is this way."
************
A short while later, the foursome was sitting in front of the fireplace in the old house. Decrepit-looking from the outside, inside it was in good condition and adequately stocked with supplies. Webb had made a brief trip to the nearby barn to find a nearly antique, battered-looking Russian car. While not exactly the best, it would serve as good, inconspicuous transportation to the next town.
In the meantime, they had, through some miracle, agreed to try and hide on the public railway system and make their way to the Black Sea, where Webb had contacts that could then get them out of the country. For the moment, though, they were all relaxing as best they could in front of the fireplace.
Still, the silence in the room was palpable. Harm appeared to be gazing into the fire, but she'd caught him more than once glancing at the others in the room, alternating between Webb and Mercedes. Harm watched his cousin with an undetermined mix of emotions. On the other hand, he regarded Webb with blatant hostility; thankfully, the agent simply ignored it. Besides, he was much more interested in sneaking worried periodic glances at Mercedes. As for Mercedes, she simply gazed into the fire, glassy-eyed and seemingly lost in a world of her own.
Mac decided that was not good; besides the tension and silence was beginning to get to her. Deciding to try and engage the other woman in conversation, she asked, "Mercedes?"
"Yeah?" she responded, not looking away from the flames.
"Ummmm...Where on earth did you get that car?"
Harm finally spoke up. "I was kinda wondering about that myself," he admitted with a slight grin.
Mercedes finally turned to look at them, and grinned. "Same place Webb and I got the Benz we were driving earlier," she said. "Stole it from a mafiya nightclub parking lot."
"How the hell did you pull that off?" Webb asked, a slight note of awe in his voice. It was clear he was having trouble believing she'd actually succeeded with such a feat.
"Please," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's not like it was difficult." An evil glint crept into her eyes as she noticed both Harm and Mac were watching intently. Maybe it was time for a bit of the payback Webb so richly deserved.
"Weeeeellll...." She began, dragging out the word, "I sorta took out one of the guards and then snuck in and hotwired the thing."
That had gotten Webb's attention. "*You* took out one of the guards," he said in flat disbelief.
"Yes, that's what I said," CD answered, frustration creeping into her voice.
"And just how did you do that?"
"Would you like me to show you?" Mercedes shot back in a too-sweet voice. Meanwhile, Harm and Mac glanced at each other uncertainly. This was either going to get very interesting or very ugly---quite possibly both.
"Please," Clay answered sarcastically, getting to his feet and crossing his arms.
Mercedes did the same. "As you wish," she commented snidely. "Basically, I used the oldest trick in the book, and a bit of my extensive anatomical knowledge." With a jerk, she pulled off the black fedora and tossed it to Mac, then pulled her hair loose from its knot. A quick shake, and it fell loose, fanning about her face. Next, she tossed off her coat, then unbuttoned the top three buttons of her shirt.
Harm looked at Mac, his eyes wide in alarm. Obviously, this was a side of his cousin that had him more than a little worried. For her part, Mac returned his worried glance, one thought in her mind: Uh-oh. Webb was either going to need painkillers or a cold shower in very short order.
But it was far too late for anyone to back out... especially him, Webb realized. As they did earlier, Mercedes's eyes locked on to Clay, but the message buried in their depths was much different. Rather than stating she wanted to throttle him, her sapphire gaze promised a different and much more enjoyable physical activity. She sauntered over to him, and Clay began mentally repeating a message to himself: *Do not touch her or Harm will kill you. *
She sidled up to him, leaning on a shoulder, and Clay couldn't help the quick downward glance... and the glimpse of sheer black lace that was instantly burned into his memory. Oh *crap*....
Mercedes turned to glance at Harm and Mac, and couldn't resist a wink. Mac had to nearly bite her tongue to keep from laughing, but a small snicker managed to escape. Harm turned to her, toning down his glower only slightly. "Would you care to tell me what is so damn funny?" he hissed, whispering.
Mac gave him a dumb look. "If you'd quit scowling and pay attention, you'd see," she whispered back.
"See what? Webb and my cousin getting far too friendly?" he shot back, still scowling.
Mac rolled her eyes. "No. Webb getting played like a cheap piano. Looks like the Tin Man may have met his match." Harm's face went from scowling to uncertain. "Just watch," she told him, then waited.
Sure enough, between the fingers caressing the base of his neck and whatever it was she was whispering in a low, sultry tone in his ear, Webb was at his limits, and completely distracted. Which was, of course, exactly where Mercedes Rabb wanted him.
Slowly, the hand on his neck worked its way around to the side, nimble fingers teasingly caressing his earlobe, sliding behind his ear... and suddenly, Webb's knees went out from under him as he collapsed in a heap. Harm and Mac watched in surprise as CD quickly stepped away and rebuttoned her shirt, before bending down next to Clay. In an instant, she was all business again.
"Mr. Webb," she announced, "Let me give you a bit of advice. Do not challenge someone to "take you out" who has an extensive knowledge of human anatomy... which includes the location of every major nerve junction in the body."
Quickly redoing her hair in its customary bun, she donned her coat. Retrieving her hat from Mac, she told them, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go grab a bit of air before retiring for the night," she said, scooping up the ubiquitous knapsack and swinging it over a shoulder.
Harm broke in. "Um, CD? Do we need to get help for Webb?"
She gave her cousin a wry glance. "Medical help, no. The effects should wear off in a bit. Any other sort of help... that's another story." With that, she disappeared out the door.
TBC.....