1830 Eastern
Harm's car
Somewhere in Washington D.C.
Harm and Mac were on their way to Mac's apartment for a late dinner, when Mac's cell phone rang.
"Colonel Mackenzie," she answered, and Harm had a sudden thought, but he put it aside when he saw the serious glance Mac gave him, "Hi, Harriet." "Sure, we'd love to." "Two o'clock." "Can we bring anything?" "Of course." "Good night, Harriet."
Harm smiled while Mac talked with Harriet, thinking that she had just accepted their first invitation as a couple. "What's up?" he asked.
"Harriet and Bud are hosting a picnic this weekend," Mac told him, and then she had a sudden thought, "You know, I wonder if I could ask Kate to come."
"I'm sure Harriet wouldn't mind," Harm said, "Call and invite her."
"That's just it," Mac said, "I haven't been able to get a hold of her all week. You know, I get the feeling that something is wrong."
Harm patted her knee. "Maybe you don't have enough food in your stomach," he said, trying to lighten the mood, but Mac shook his hand off and looked out the window.
"Aw, Mac. I wasn't trying to make light of it."
"It's not that, Harm," she assured him, "I just worry about these feelings."
"Are they like your visions?" Harm asked, now genuinely concerned, but Mac shook her head.
"No, not at all like them," she said, "I'm just really worried about Kate. It's not like her."
Harm looked around at the street signs and said, "We're in her neighborhood, would you like to stop by?"
"You wouldn't mind?"
"Not at all."
Twenty minutes later they had parked the car outside Kate's apartment building, and were walking up the steps to the third floor. When they reached number 306, Harm knocked firmly.
"It's open," Kate called through the door.
Harm looked at Mac, who nodded solemnly. He twisted the knob, and pushed the door open slowly. When he was sure there was no danger in sight, he opened the door full, but as he turned to allow Mac to enter, a sudden motion caught his eye. He jerked his head around and saw a woman in full ready stance aiming a 9mm Beretta at him.
"Jesus," he breathed even as he drew himself to his full height and breadth to cover Mac completely.
"Harm?" the woman gasped as she buckled her elbows and pointed the gun at the ceiling.
"What the hell is going on?" Mac called impatiently as she tried to peer around Harm's broad shoulders.
Kate slid the gun into the waist of her jeans at the small of her back. "Get in here," she said, motioning them inside.
"Do you always answer your door with a gun?" Harm asked crossly.
Kate showed them into her living room, which was a tasteful modern room with clean lines and muted colors. Despite the soft looking furniture none of them sat down.
"You could have shot us," Harm accused her crossly. The look in his eyes could have pierced a Kevlar vest on its own.
Kate shook her head. "No, the safety's on."
"Kate, what's going on?" Mac asked concerned, but direct.
Kate looked at her with a face Harm was sure Clay had taught her. It was the same face Clay used whenever he wanted to say something he knew he shouldn't. It looked better on Kate than it did on Clay, though. Despite the determined look, Kate appeared to be exhausted. There were dark circles under her emerald green eyes. Harm also noticed that the scar from her wound was still red; it was barely covered by the thin strap of her white tank top.
"Kate, please," Mac tried to persuade her confidence, "Whatever's making you answer your door with a gun is serious. Maybe we can help."
"No!" Kate said, suddenly energized. "You can't become involved with this. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you two. Not now."
Harm was surprised by her abrupt protectiveness. He asked, "Kate does this have something to do with London?"
"Please, just go," she begged as she ushered them toward the door.
Harm stubbornly refused to move. "Kate, let us help you. We've been in some sticky situations before."
"I can't let you help with this one," she said firmly. "Please, if you want to help, just stay out of it."
"You can't ask us to ignore that you're in trouble," Mac told her.
"I'm not asking you to," Kate replied, "Just give me the space and time I need to solve it alone." Both Harm and Mac looked as if they were going to argue further, but Kate held up her hand to silence them. "Please, don't make me force you out."
Harm and Mac shared a look, and then Harm shrugged his shoulders dejectedly. "We know we can't make you accept our help," he said, then switched to an almost pleading tone, "Is there anything you'll let us do?"
Kate looked at them both gratefully and said, "Pray."
Both Harm and Mac nodded reluctantly and allowed Kate to show them out. "Kate, if you need us, you know where to find us," Mac told her before she was completely out the door.
"I'll contact you," Kate assured them as she began to close the door, then she said, "Sarah."
Both Mac and Harm turned to look hopefully at her. "Tabrik," she said with a small smile, and she shut the door.
Mac stood, looking at the closed door, and a small grin spread on her face. Harm was confused. "What did she say?" he asked.
"It was Farsi," Mac told him, and lifting her left hand for him to see the ring on her finger, she said, "It means 'congratulations.'"
Harm and Mac were on their way to Mac's apartment for a late dinner, when Mac's cell phone rang.
"Colonel Mackenzie," she answered, and Harm had a sudden thought, but he put it aside when he saw the serious glance Mac gave him, "Hi, Harriet." "Sure, we'd love to." "Two o'clock." "Can we bring anything?" "Of course." "Good night, Harriet."
Harm smiled while Mac talked with Harriet, thinking that she had just accepted their first invitation as a couple. "What's up?" he asked.
"Harriet and Bud are hosting a picnic this weekend," Mac told him, and then she had a sudden thought, "You know, I wonder if I could ask Kate to come."
"I'm sure Harriet wouldn't mind," Harm said, "Call and invite her."
"That's just it," Mac said, "I haven't been able to get a hold of her all week. You know, I get the feeling that something is wrong."
Harm patted her knee. "Maybe you don't have enough food in your stomach," he said, trying to lighten the mood, but Mac shook his hand off and looked out the window.
"Aw, Mac. I wasn't trying to make light of it."
"It's not that, Harm," she assured him, "I just worry about these feelings."
"Are they like your visions?" Harm asked, now genuinely concerned, but Mac shook her head.
"No, not at all like them," she said, "I'm just really worried about Kate. It's not like her."
Harm looked around at the street signs and said, "We're in her neighborhood, would you like to stop by?"
"You wouldn't mind?"
"Not at all."
Twenty minutes later they had parked the car outside Kate's apartment building, and were walking up the steps to the third floor. When they reached number 306, Harm knocked firmly.
"It's open," Kate called through the door.
Harm looked at Mac, who nodded solemnly. He twisted the knob, and pushed the door open slowly. When he was sure there was no danger in sight, he opened the door full, but as he turned to allow Mac to enter, a sudden motion caught his eye. He jerked his head around and saw a woman in full ready stance aiming a 9mm Beretta at him.
"Jesus," he breathed even as he drew himself to his full height and breadth to cover Mac completely.
"Harm?" the woman gasped as she buckled her elbows and pointed the gun at the ceiling.
"What the hell is going on?" Mac called impatiently as she tried to peer around Harm's broad shoulders.
Kate slid the gun into the waist of her jeans at the small of her back. "Get in here," she said, motioning them inside.
"Do you always answer your door with a gun?" Harm asked crossly.
Kate showed them into her living room, which was a tasteful modern room with clean lines and muted colors. Despite the soft looking furniture none of them sat down.
"You could have shot us," Harm accused her crossly. The look in his eyes could have pierced a Kevlar vest on its own.
Kate shook her head. "No, the safety's on."
"Kate, what's going on?" Mac asked concerned, but direct.
Kate looked at her with a face Harm was sure Clay had taught her. It was the same face Clay used whenever he wanted to say something he knew he shouldn't. It looked better on Kate than it did on Clay, though. Despite the determined look, Kate appeared to be exhausted. There were dark circles under her emerald green eyes. Harm also noticed that the scar from her wound was still red; it was barely covered by the thin strap of her white tank top.
"Kate, please," Mac tried to persuade her confidence, "Whatever's making you answer your door with a gun is serious. Maybe we can help."
"No!" Kate said, suddenly energized. "You can't become involved with this. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you two. Not now."
Harm was surprised by her abrupt protectiveness. He asked, "Kate does this have something to do with London?"
"Please, just go," she begged as she ushered them toward the door.
Harm stubbornly refused to move. "Kate, let us help you. We've been in some sticky situations before."
"I can't let you help with this one," she said firmly. "Please, if you want to help, just stay out of it."
"You can't ask us to ignore that you're in trouble," Mac told her.
"I'm not asking you to," Kate replied, "Just give me the space and time I need to solve it alone." Both Harm and Mac looked as if they were going to argue further, but Kate held up her hand to silence them. "Please, don't make me force you out."
Harm and Mac shared a look, and then Harm shrugged his shoulders dejectedly. "We know we can't make you accept our help," he said, then switched to an almost pleading tone, "Is there anything you'll let us do?"
Kate looked at them both gratefully and said, "Pray."
Both Harm and Mac nodded reluctantly and allowed Kate to show them out. "Kate, if you need us, you know where to find us," Mac told her before she was completely out the door.
"I'll contact you," Kate assured them as she began to close the door, then she said, "Sarah."
Both Mac and Harm turned to look hopefully at her. "Tabrik," she said with a small smile, and she shut the door.
Mac stood, looking at the closed door, and a small grin spread on her face. Harm was confused. "What did she say?" he asked.
"It was Farsi," Mac told him, and lifting her left hand for him to see the ring on her finger, she said, "It means 'congratulations.'"
