***********************************************************************
No one moved. It was as if all the energy had been expended in that one rash action, leaving all incapable of acting further.
It was a long moment before Harm took the last few slow steps needed to bring him beside his cousin. His stomach churned as he glanced briefly at what remained of Tikhomirov, even as he slowly, cautiously, reached out for the gun in Mercedes's hand. "It's over," he said softly, placing a gentle hand on her arm and pushing it downward.
Mercedes remained immobile, except for the arm Harm had guided downward. She stared fixedly at the body, even as Harm gently unwrapped her fingers from the gun and pocketed it. "I had to," she whispered.
Harm couldn't think of a reply to that. He wasn't going to let himself think about what had just happened, not now. He had too many other things to deal with, chief among them being getting the hell out of here.
Still forcing himself to move slowly and gently, he laid a hand on
Mercedes's shoulder and turned her toward him. She was white-faced and shaking, her body stiff and her eyes wide. "We need to get out of here, CD," he said softly, then remembered something from earlier as she nodded jerkily. "How is Webb?"
Mercedes's eyes went even wider, and a strangled-sounding cry came from deep in her throat. Before Harm could react, she spun away from him and made a mad dash for the car. "Wha- Mercedes!" he called, before following her back.
*********************************
Five hours later
Along the Don River
Between Volgograd and Rostov-on-Don
2257 local
Harm crept silently through the ship, making his way as quickly as possible back to the lowest levels of the freighter's hull. His arms were loaded with contraband-- food and supplies he'd stolen from the ship's mess. He breathed a sigh of relief once he passed the last known guard posting, then hurried the final distance to his destination.
After the whole... situation with Tikhomirov, he'd had to basically assume control of their ragged party. Mac, although better off now that she'd gotten some food in her, was still weak; Mercedes was still in a mild state of shock, as well as being otherwise occupied caring for Webb.
Webb... Harm couldn't believe the agent was still alive. He didn't want to think about the whole mess any more than that, but a small nagging voice in his head was insisting he do so. Had CD's actions been a reaction to seeing Webb? That made everything a bit more comprehensible, but still...
He'd managed to get Mercedes to respond enough to figure out that the last way anyone would be looking for them to be going was in the hold of a freighter destined first for the Black Sea and then ultimately for Athens. Hopefully, they could sneak off the ship in Greece and get to the US Embassy.
He carefully opened the hatch in front of him, trying not to lose faith as he took in the scene. The "room", a storage closet cleared for them by a well-compensated member of the crew, was probably about the size of his office. The only light came from the old lantern the crewman had given them, which sat in the middle of the floor. A few feet from the door, Mac leaned against the wall, knees curled under her. A threadbare blanket was wrapped around her still form, and her eyes were closed in rest, the long lashes gently brushing her cheeks.
He shut the hatch behind him, then bent down to put down his burden. Kneeling, he moved next to Mac, brushing away a stray lock of hair from her face with a gentle touch. "Hey, ninja-girl," he whispered, "Interested in some grub?"
He watched as her eyes opened, regarding him with a warm look.
"That's one of the dumber questions you've ever asked," she replied wryly, shifting and stretching under the blanket.
Harm reached for the pile of supplies, coming up with a loaf of bread. "It's not deep-fried or dead cow, but it's food," he said, tearing off a hunk and offering it to her.
"Thanks," she said, accepting the proffered bread. "At this point, even meatless meatloaf would probably sound good," she said with a weak grin.
He grinned back, but then the expression slowly slid from his face as he glanced at the other occupants of the small room. "Has there been any change?" he asked soberly.
Mac's smile disappeared as well. "No," she said sadly, shaking her head, before following Harm's gaze. "She won't leave him, not even to get some rest."
Their gaze was fixed on the far side of the room, where Mercedes knelt next to Webb. He lay face down on a small pile of blankets, while Mercedes tended to his wounds as best she could. She had bandaged what she could, raiding her bag and sacrificing a spare shirt. Otherwise, she was reduced to periodically wiping down his face and shoulders with a damp cloth in an effort to keep his fever under control. She cleaned the wounds on his back as best she could, but they were still too raw to allow her to do much of anything for them, not with the meager supplies available to her.
Harm glanced back at Mac, then scooped up some of the supplies he'd brought and carried them over. Kneeling beside his cousin, he spoke softly. "How is he?"
She never looked up from her task. "Not good," she answered tonelessly.
Harm swallowed, then asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted answered. "Will he make it?"
Silence fell, heavy and oppressive for several long minutes before she answered. "I don't know. But I'm not quitting."
He nodded, accepting her answer for what it was: a statement of her determination rather than an assessment of Webb's condition. "Here's more supplies, and some food. You need to keep your strength up," he told her, still uncertain of how to deal with her.
She never once looked up. "Thanks. I'll try to stretch things as long as I can," she replied, re-wetting the scarf she was using as a washcloth. "You'd best get some rest. We still have several days until we reach Athens."
Recognizing the end of the conversation, Harm stood and returned to Mac, dropping down to sit next to her. "How is Webb?" she asked.
"She says it's not good," he replied, his voice weary. "I just hope he makes it to Athens." He shook his head in disbelief. "None of us would be here without his help," he admitted reluctantly.
"I know," Mac replied, her voice soft. Turning to look at him, she added, "And I wouldn't be here without you."
"Never mind it's my fault you were in danger in the first place," he said bitterly, looking away.
"No, it wasn't," she replied immediately, "and even if it was, it wouldn't matter." With a gentle hand, she turned his face back to hers.
"You came back for me."
His eyes held hers. "There was no way I was leaving without you... You know that." She nodded, then shivered slightly. He noticed the slight movement. "Cold?"
"A bit."
He sighed, then moved a bit closer. "Come here," he instructed gently, pulling her into his lap, her head resting under his chin. Wrapping the blanket around them both, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Try and get some sleep," he urged, his voice a whisper.
It was mere minutes before she did so, lulled into slumber by the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart in her ear. It wasn't long afterwards that he followed her, giving in to weariness that seemed to pervade his entire being. As his eyes drifted shut, he vaguely registered the sight of Webb and Mercedes, him resting in her lap, curling up to sleep as well.
*******************************
Six days later, on New Year's Eve, they arrived at the American embassy in Athens.
TBC.....
No one moved. It was as if all the energy had been expended in that one rash action, leaving all incapable of acting further.
It was a long moment before Harm took the last few slow steps needed to bring him beside his cousin. His stomach churned as he glanced briefly at what remained of Tikhomirov, even as he slowly, cautiously, reached out for the gun in Mercedes's hand. "It's over," he said softly, placing a gentle hand on her arm and pushing it downward.
Mercedes remained immobile, except for the arm Harm had guided downward. She stared fixedly at the body, even as Harm gently unwrapped her fingers from the gun and pocketed it. "I had to," she whispered.
Harm couldn't think of a reply to that. He wasn't going to let himself think about what had just happened, not now. He had too many other things to deal with, chief among them being getting the hell out of here.
Still forcing himself to move slowly and gently, he laid a hand on
Mercedes's shoulder and turned her toward him. She was white-faced and shaking, her body stiff and her eyes wide. "We need to get out of here, CD," he said softly, then remembered something from earlier as she nodded jerkily. "How is Webb?"
Mercedes's eyes went even wider, and a strangled-sounding cry came from deep in her throat. Before Harm could react, she spun away from him and made a mad dash for the car. "Wha- Mercedes!" he called, before following her back.
*********************************
Five hours later
Along the Don River
Between Volgograd and Rostov-on-Don
2257 local
Harm crept silently through the ship, making his way as quickly as possible back to the lowest levels of the freighter's hull. His arms were loaded with contraband-- food and supplies he'd stolen from the ship's mess. He breathed a sigh of relief once he passed the last known guard posting, then hurried the final distance to his destination.
After the whole... situation with Tikhomirov, he'd had to basically assume control of their ragged party. Mac, although better off now that she'd gotten some food in her, was still weak; Mercedes was still in a mild state of shock, as well as being otherwise occupied caring for Webb.
Webb... Harm couldn't believe the agent was still alive. He didn't want to think about the whole mess any more than that, but a small nagging voice in his head was insisting he do so. Had CD's actions been a reaction to seeing Webb? That made everything a bit more comprehensible, but still...
He'd managed to get Mercedes to respond enough to figure out that the last way anyone would be looking for them to be going was in the hold of a freighter destined first for the Black Sea and then ultimately for Athens. Hopefully, they could sneak off the ship in Greece and get to the US Embassy.
He carefully opened the hatch in front of him, trying not to lose faith as he took in the scene. The "room", a storage closet cleared for them by a well-compensated member of the crew, was probably about the size of his office. The only light came from the old lantern the crewman had given them, which sat in the middle of the floor. A few feet from the door, Mac leaned against the wall, knees curled under her. A threadbare blanket was wrapped around her still form, and her eyes were closed in rest, the long lashes gently brushing her cheeks.
He shut the hatch behind him, then bent down to put down his burden. Kneeling, he moved next to Mac, brushing away a stray lock of hair from her face with a gentle touch. "Hey, ninja-girl," he whispered, "Interested in some grub?"
He watched as her eyes opened, regarding him with a warm look.
"That's one of the dumber questions you've ever asked," she replied wryly, shifting and stretching under the blanket.
Harm reached for the pile of supplies, coming up with a loaf of bread. "It's not deep-fried or dead cow, but it's food," he said, tearing off a hunk and offering it to her.
"Thanks," she said, accepting the proffered bread. "At this point, even meatless meatloaf would probably sound good," she said with a weak grin.
He grinned back, but then the expression slowly slid from his face as he glanced at the other occupants of the small room. "Has there been any change?" he asked soberly.
Mac's smile disappeared as well. "No," she said sadly, shaking her head, before following Harm's gaze. "She won't leave him, not even to get some rest."
Their gaze was fixed on the far side of the room, where Mercedes knelt next to Webb. He lay face down on a small pile of blankets, while Mercedes tended to his wounds as best she could. She had bandaged what she could, raiding her bag and sacrificing a spare shirt. Otherwise, she was reduced to periodically wiping down his face and shoulders with a damp cloth in an effort to keep his fever under control. She cleaned the wounds on his back as best she could, but they were still too raw to allow her to do much of anything for them, not with the meager supplies available to her.
Harm glanced back at Mac, then scooped up some of the supplies he'd brought and carried them over. Kneeling beside his cousin, he spoke softly. "How is he?"
She never looked up from her task. "Not good," she answered tonelessly.
Harm swallowed, then asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted answered. "Will he make it?"
Silence fell, heavy and oppressive for several long minutes before she answered. "I don't know. But I'm not quitting."
He nodded, accepting her answer for what it was: a statement of her determination rather than an assessment of Webb's condition. "Here's more supplies, and some food. You need to keep your strength up," he told her, still uncertain of how to deal with her.
She never once looked up. "Thanks. I'll try to stretch things as long as I can," she replied, re-wetting the scarf she was using as a washcloth. "You'd best get some rest. We still have several days until we reach Athens."
Recognizing the end of the conversation, Harm stood and returned to Mac, dropping down to sit next to her. "How is Webb?" she asked.
"She says it's not good," he replied, his voice weary. "I just hope he makes it to Athens." He shook his head in disbelief. "None of us would be here without his help," he admitted reluctantly.
"I know," Mac replied, her voice soft. Turning to look at him, she added, "And I wouldn't be here without you."
"Never mind it's my fault you were in danger in the first place," he said bitterly, looking away.
"No, it wasn't," she replied immediately, "and even if it was, it wouldn't matter." With a gentle hand, she turned his face back to hers.
"You came back for me."
His eyes held hers. "There was no way I was leaving without you... You know that." She nodded, then shivered slightly. He noticed the slight movement. "Cold?"
"A bit."
He sighed, then moved a bit closer. "Come here," he instructed gently, pulling her into his lap, her head resting under his chin. Wrapping the blanket around them both, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Try and get some sleep," he urged, his voice a whisper.
It was mere minutes before she did so, lulled into slumber by the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart in her ear. It wasn't long afterwards that he followed her, giving in to weariness that seemed to pervade his entire being. As his eyes drifted shut, he vaguely registered the sight of Webb and Mercedes, him resting in her lap, curling up to sleep as well.
*******************************
Six days later, on New Year's Eve, they arrived at the American embassy in Athens.
TBC.....