Title: The Spider and the Fly IV

Author: Nan

Rating: PG

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

Spoilers: Tangled Web

Summary: Speculation Fic - conclusion to Tangled Web



Part IV

Harm watched Mac from his vantage point at the edge of the power plant parking lot. He was in a seated position hunched over his bent legs. She was rounding one of the small out buildings in the facility, checking the doors and windows. So far, everything was locked.

He was still feeling pretty shaky. Okay, Mac was probably right. That thick shard of metal had to come out but he couldn't shake the feeling of weakness Mac's foray with the knife had left him with. His shoulder ached like crazy right now. Mac was scouting the dam site seeking solutions to their current situation. In this condition, he wasn't much use to her.

He scanned the assortment of buildings, holding pond and riverbanks. From what he could see, they were completely alone. The van had been a trap. Harm recognized the van as the one he had left with the Mennonite farmer. Had he betrayed them to Saddiq Faud? Whether he did or not, Harm knew it wouldn't be long until some else came looking for them.

He watched as Mac walked over to another small shed and shielded her eyes to peer inside a dusty window. He tried to gauge her mood. Was she mad at him? What form of idiocy had over taken him earlier? What possessed him to list their recent fights in such a persistent fashion? And bringing up the ferry ride in Sydney Harbor was just this side of spite. No wonder she went at him with a knife. He was probably lucky that all she did was take out the metal splinter.

It was probably just a momentary lapse caused by the concussion from the blast and the pain in his shoulder, right?

In lawyer-like fashion, his logical mind knew that was a weak argument. The real reason, if he cared to admit it, was something he was ashamed of. If Admiral Chegwidden was here, he could tell Harm the real reason. Harm, the admiral would say, you can't admit that you need her.

Webb had admitted that he needed Mac. Harm had heard it for himself, eavesdropping as he fixed the tire on the jeep back at Saddiq's compound. Webb, half dead and crazy with pain, told Mac words that Harm wanted to say but never could.

Mac had finished her inspection of the outbuildings and walked back to his location at the edge of the large parking lot. Flopping down beside him, she stretched out her legs and leaned back.

"You are looking better," she said.

"Yes," he said keeping his eyes forward. "Thank you for all you did. It must have been a hard thing to do."

She turned to look at him not quite knowing what to say to the formal tone of that sentence of gratitude. Harm had resigned his commission, flown thousands of miles, battled gun-toting terrorists and all he could say to her was 'thank you for all you did?'

He was too funny. She started to giggle.

He stared at her. This wasn't the reaction he was expecting. Was she laughing at him?

"What's so funny?" he finally asked.

"You," she said.

"What did I say?" Harm mildly annoyed.

"You resign your commission to come here. Harmon Rabb, a man who loves the Navy and flying Tomcats above everything else. Here we are, in the middle of god knows where Paraguay in a truly desperate situation and the best you can say to me is 'thank you for all you did?'"

Harm was silent but her laughter was infectious. He fought back a smile. "What did you expect? Some sappy line about sharing a tooth brush?"

"You heard that?"

"It was hard not to. Anyways, Webb has a lot of gall, dragging you into this dangerous situation and then claiming to love you," Harm said with more heat than he intended.

"He never said that he loved me. He just said he needed me," said Mac.

"You know what he meant."

"Are you worried about that?" asked Mac.

"Worried about what?"

"Worried about Clay's er, confession?"

Harm suddenly turned to face her, ignoring the pain in his shoulder from the sudden motion. He reached out and grabbed both of her hands and held them firmly in his. He answered slowly. "What if I am?"

Her eyes flashed as she stared intently at his face realizing that he had taken them both back to that ill-fated conversation on the Guadalcanal. It had been over a year and a half ago when he had answered her question 'What would you do' with another question. "What if I did?" Frustrated with his vague answer, she hadn't stuck around to finish the dialogue. Instead she had run. It had been months before they recovered their friendship from that unfortunate discussion.

This time, Mac had no room for escape. Harm held each hand firmly with a sense of purpose that even her marine training would find difficult to overcome.

She could do nothing but answer truthfully, "Well then, if you are worried about Clay then I guess I would be happy to know that maybe you cared."

"Maybe I cared?" quirking one eyebrow at her.

"I guess 'maybe' is the wrong word."

"Definitely the wrong word," said Harm.

"But," Mac continued openly. "I would wonder why you couldn't say those words yourself."

Harm averted his eyes and released her hands. "Maybe I would wonder about a few things to. Like, do you had the same feelings for Clay that he has for you, especially after you have been through so much together?" His heart was pounding in his brain for some reason.

When he looked up again, she was starting to rise and looking at a point down the road. Following her gaze, he realized that a late model grey suburban towing a trailer was driving toward the dam site.

"Can you walk?" she asked. "We need to hide." She bent down and picked up the remnants of the first aid kit and canteen and shoved them into the pack.

Harm nodded and put on his shirt despite the sudden jab of pain. He rose slowly, testing the strength in his legs. He looked at her to confirm he was okay.

"This way," she said and walked through the thick forest around the parking lot toward the river below the dam, her eyes never leaving the grey suburban. She found small rise thick with brush in sight of the parking lot directly above the banks of the Rio Verde. They both knelt down and hid themselves as they watched the Suburban come to a halt next to the burned out vehicles.

A white-capped armed man emerged from the vehicle first. He opened the passenger door and the distinctive figure of Saddiq Faud stepped out, arm in a sling. They circled the burned out vehicle. Mac tried to get a gist of their conversation. Two more armed men climbed out of the grey SUV.

Saddiq motioned to the trailer. On the flatbed trailer was two off-road trikes. The men unloaded the pair. He sent the third man to check the buildings around the site. Harm and Mac watched as he painstakingly checked windows and doors. He was walking slowly with two hands gripping an automatic rifle, eyes scanning the hills next to the installation. He started to walk down the edge of the parking lot. Suddenly he stopped. He motioned to Saddiq and the others to join him.

Harm glanced at Mac. They had found the spot where Mac had performed the crude surgery on Harm's shoulder. If they had found that, he knew it wasn't safe for them here.

"Any ideas?" he asked Mac.

"Actually I do have an idea. Look down there," she said pointing towards the river. Harm saw a tiny scrap of yellow through the thick brush. What was it? Suddenly, he realized he was looking at a Zodiac style river raft hidden by the bank of the river directly beneath them.

Harm mused over who had left it there. Perhaps it was part of the installation of the dam site? Or maybe left by some ecotourism company who had rafting tours on the Rio Verde? Whatever, it would be a slick and fast form of transportation.

But only after Saddiq and his men had left. If they went on to the river now, they would be sitting ducks in a yellow raft for the automatic weapons in their hands. He let his eyes wander further down the valley. There was a gorge of sorts about a half-mile down. The hillside was inaccessible, steep and thickly covered. If they could only make it that far, they would be safe for a while.

They had one additional advantage. The sun was hanging low in the sky. It was less than an hour to darkness.

"You still have that knife?" said Harm. "If I can see the raft, so can they. We need to hide it better."

Mac nodded. "I'll go down."

"No," he said. "Stay here. To listen and figure out their next move. You speak Farsi, remember?"

She looked at him carefully and nodded slowly. "You okay?"

He smiled. "Adrenaline and fear. Keep you going every time."

"Be safe," she whispered.

"You too."

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