Title: The Spider and the Fly III

Author: Nan

Rating: PG

Classification: vignette, Harm/Mac, a shipper story.

Spoilers: Tangled Web

Summary: Speculation Fic - conclusion to Tangled Web

Part III

Harm grabbed Mac by the arm and pulled her to a crouch. "Any guesses?" he asked.

Mac looked at him with a woeful expression. "Why would our Mennonite friend drive to a power plant on the Rio Verde? It seems logical to me that it must be Saddiq. And we are the reason he is here."

"Maybe so," said Harm. "Let's be careful in any case. Over there." He pointed to forest edge. Walking in the open right-of-way would be dangerous.

They hiked slowly down through the dense forest to a point west of the power lines, moving closer to the dam site. Harm picked a vantage point about 100 yards away and stopped. A tangle of vines and bushes hid them from view. They waited and watched.

The dam and power plant ran without permanent staff. With the exception of the grey Astro van, the entire site looked deserted.

After ten minutes, Harm looked at Mac. "It seems that no one is here."

She agreed. "Where would they be?"

"Looking for us?"

Harm studied the van. "I'm sure that is the van I left with our German farmer. I recognize that crease in the front bumper."

Mac squinted her eyes. "So why doesn't that make me feel better? Something is wrong here."

"Good instinct. I don't trust this either. Go quietly behind that tan stucco building. I'll come around from the other side. I'll walk slowly across the parking lot towards the van. You cover me," said Harm and he reached inside his small pack. "Take the flare gun."

Mac raised an eyebrow. Something about this spooked Harm. She looked at the flare gun in her hand. "This doesn't give me a lot of confidence."

Cautiously, they made their way towards the deserted parking lot with the solitary van.

Mac rounded the squat building. Harm emerged slowly from the far side. His gaze swung around. She scanned nearby buildings and edge of the noisy Paraguayan forest. Harm closed the remaining yards between himself and the vehicle. Suddenly, she heard revving of a truck motor and wheels spinning. She looked beyond the van to the crudely paved road. A half-ton pickup truck was speeding towards them. A dark man leaned out of an open window and pointed an automatic rifle towards the van and Harm.

Harm duck and moved, keeping the grey van between him and the oncoming truck. A spray of bullets pinged angrily off the pavement and metal as the man open fire. Mac drew the short squat flare gun from her waist. This only worked at short range. She needed to get closer to her target.

Target? Indecision hit her. How best could she maximize her two flares?

The pickup truck came to halt making a T with the van. Both the driver and passenger were leaning out open doors, automatic weapons in hand. Harm was crouched out of view on the other side. The two attackers were unaware of her presence. Keeping low, Mac walked slowly toward the rear of the truck. The open bed of the pickup truck was partially filled with an assortment of power tools. Mac spied two red plastic 5-gallon containers of gasoline. Bingo. That was her target.

At a range of five yards she pointed the flare gun towards the red containers and fired. She quickly turned, sprinted then dove to the ground as the gasoline ignited. A series of explosions followed from the larger gas tank on the truck. Fire and explosions engulfed the truck and then the van. Mac lay face down on the parking lot pavement, covering her head with her hands as debris fell everywhere.

Cautiously, she raised her head and shoulders from the ground and turned to look at the aftermath. She counted one then two bodies next to the burning wreckage of the truck. She looked around for Harm.

He was lying on the other side of the van face up and legs moving slightly. He was alive! She quickened her pace till she was standing over him. He opened one eye to look up at her.

"Did you do that? Next time, give me a little warning and I will get out of the way," he moaned.

"How would that go exactly? Excuse me, Mr. Terrorist? Wait right there while I warn the squid on the other side of the van?" Mac knelt beside him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great. Just don't ask me to move." Harm drew one leg up towards his body. He winced and closed his eyes.

Mac looked down his long body. He had cuts and scraps on top of more cuts and bruises. "Tell me where it hurts."

Harm slowly moved his other leg and threw an arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun. "Where does it hurt? A better question might be, where doesn't it hurt?" He rolled over on one shoulder and propped himself into a sitting position. He held his right arm tightly against his body. The ugly splinter wound on his right shoulder had been crudely torn open and abraded with dirt and pebbles. Blood was seeping through his thin shirt.

"What's wrong?" Harm asked Mac. She was kneeling close behind him, inspecting the wound.

"That splinter wound is bleeding badly. The impact must have jarred it," said Mac.

"It hurts like hell."

"I bet. Anything else hurting?" She peered around him to look up into his face.

"Isn't that enough?" he groused.

"What, you think I like to see you suffer?" Mac smiled. She stood up and held a hand out to help him to a standing position.

"Sometimes you do," he said trying to stand on legs that felt like jell-o. Mac reached around his waist to steady him.

"I never want to see you suffer."

"Never? What about during the friendly fire case?"

"Well okay, maybe once. Extenuating circumstances," she said. She led him back towards the edge of the Paraguayan forest, snagging the discarded pack from the biplane on the way.

"How about the war games trial against General West? Aaaaah," said Harm as he tried to straighten the injured shoulder.

"Twice then," said Mac.

"Jagathon?" asked Harm.

"Just a minute, you were hell bent to show that you could beat me even with a head start. You deserved to suffer." She felt her anger rising.

"After the ferry in Australia?" Harm continued relentlessly.

She dropped her supporting arm and stared at him. He could be such an ass at times. He eased himself down on the pampas grass next to the pavement. She turned her back to him and rummaged around the pack looking for the small first aid kit. There was guaze, tape, and antiseptic pads. She also grabbed the hunting knife.

"What are you going to do with that?" asked Harm, noticing the knife in her hand.

Her eyes glittered at him and she smiled. He paled as she placed herself directly behind him and stripped his ruined shirt.

He closed his eyes as she started to clean the ragged wound with an antiseptic pad. She could feel his back straighten and his muscles tense as she gently picked at pieces of debris and gravel. She peered at the rough metal splinter. The wound was hot with veins of puffy reddish blue bruising radiating from it. The splinter was deep but if she could get a good grip, she felt she could drag it out cleanly.

"Lie down," she told him.

Harm glanced back at her with something like fear in his eyes. He straightened his legs and rolled onto his front. He buried his face in his crossed arms and shut his eyes.

Using another antiseptic pad, she swiped the blade of the knife. With the crude blade she made a one-inch shallow cut to expose the end of the splinter. She heard him suck in his breath. Using her finger and what was left of her nails, she grabbed at the splinter. She couldn't get a good grip. She picked up the knife and widened the cut. Pulling gently she managed to extract long piece metal. It was a remnant of the strut of the biplane.

Quickly she washed down the wound and taped a gauze pad over it. She placed her hand over the gauze hoping the additional pressure would stop the bleeding. She bent over him until she was next to his face.

"Harm?" He didn't answer. Had he fainted? She wasn't sure. Mac got up and went over to the pack. Extracting the empty canteen, she walked over to edge of the large holding pond above the dam.

When she returned, he was still lying in the face down position. She checked the wound again. Blood was already seeping onto the outer layers of the gauze pad. She grabbed the last gauze pad and taped it on top of the wound.

He stirred and said in a strained voice, "Are you finished yet?"

She bent over him, bringing her face to the same level as his. She looked into his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I am about to throw up," he said.

"The splinter is out," she said.

"God, I hope so, that hurt like hell," he mumbled.

"Sorry. I have some water here. Would you like some?"

"In a little while," and he closed his eyes again. She laid her hand onto the uninjured side of his back and rubbed soothingly.

She sat staring out onto the deserted parking lot with its burned out vehicles. All was quiet again. As Harm slept, she mentally planned out their next move.



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