Fear.

The unreasoning panic that sprang from nowhere. Pure adrenalin the only thing that kept you going. It would be so easy to give up, some little voice in your mind telling you that if you just gave up, you would wake up and everything would miraculously be all right. But it wasn't. The actions were automatic, a form of self- preservation that gave a person intense focus and called on years of training, a game of skill, where one false move would end in tragedy.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mac saw one of the men fall to the ground. There was wreckage and carnage everywhere she looked. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to end with the death of her and her fellow Marines. Fear gripped her heart, bubbled in her chest, made it hard to breathe, or was that just the dust?

It filled her chest, gripping her in its vice, that was seemingly impossible to get out of. It was as if she had no choice but to be afraid; to succumb to the force that threatened to take over her, devour her. It was an unreasoning, constricting force that operated outside time and space, as if you lived two lives. She felt as if time had stopped, but everything was still happening but she couldn't do anything about it.

Mac ducked down and reloaded the semi- automatic. She could see two marines down, the others still fighting. Gunny looked over at her, and at that moment, when their eyes connected, she realised. In his eyes, this man she had worked with for years, been friends with, this calm, collected man, she could see fear. But she could see faith, and loyalty, and unwavering courage. They were outnumbered, but here was someone who had not given up hope. Someone who had no reason to be here, someone who deserved to live. Mac gave him a signal, and saw his expression change to one of dismay, confusion, then understanding. She gave it again, and he scrambled away. Would this be the last time she would ever see him?

She had never felt real fear before. It was not like a fear of heights, or of darkness. It was entirely different. Was it a fear of death? She wasn't sure. But she was desperate. No. It wasn't a fear of death. It was a fear of not being able to live, to see the ones you loved, to tell them you loved them. It was a fear of moving on without feeling fulfilled.

But she was not going to die today, and later on she would wonder if it would have been better if she had. She heard an officer give a command to cease fire, and round up the 'American filth'. There was no escaping. There were only four of them left. Two of them came her way, pointing machine guns, and she had no choice but to surrender herself to the Iranians.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harriet stood waiting. A tired AJ clung to her hand, determined not to fall asleep. The notice had come over the loudspeaker minutes ago; he should be here soon. Harriet looked at the doors when she heard them open and couldn't help the grin that formed on her face when she saw him. AJ saw him and dashed towards him, letting go of her hand.

"Uncle Harm!" he yelled. Harm grinned and dropped his bag, scooping AJ up in his huge arms. Harriet walked towards him, happy to see him after so long. When the war had begun Harm had been promoted to Captain and sent to be CAG (Captain of the Air Group) on an aircraft carrier in the Middle East. He was still in his uniform and he looked like he would fall asleep as soon as he got the chance. He picked up his bag in his free arm and walked towards Harriet, greeting her. He had been away for four months, but it seemed like forever.

Before war had even been declared, the JAG crew had been broken up and sent on TAD; the government claiming they didn't need lawyers so much as soldiers. Bud had been transferred to Intelligence because of his bad leg, a fact for which Harriet was eternally grateful. Sturgis was commanding a sub somewhere in the Pacific and Mac had been sent to an elite group of Marines operating in the Middle East. Sturgis was returning in a week, but no one knew where Mac was. They hadn't heard from her in three months. When the Middle Eastern countries united and declared war on America, Mac had been sent away immediately, somewhere in Afghanistan.

"Thanks Harriet," said Harm.

"No problem. It's good to see you."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everything was so different now, Harm thought. It was only nine o'clock, but the streets of Washington were virtually empty. Well, compared to usual.

"How long has it been like this?" he asked Harriet.

"Just after they announced the war. Something like half the population has left."

Harm was silent. It still seemed unreal to him that there was a war, and he was fighting in it. It wasn't like he had visualised it; all glory and excitement. It was draining, and death, continuous death. He hated the killing. He tried to imagine that the planes he shot down were just that; machines, and forget that there were people in them, who had family and friends. It was harder when he dropped the bombs. With one press of a bottom hundreds of lives could be lost, and he was the one who did it.

He sighed, and leant his head back against the seat. He was so tired, but he needed to stay awake…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They had been put in a room. It was dark, with one small slit set high in the wall, a meagre ray of moonlight shining through. It was damp as well. Mac shivered with cold and looked at the other three men that had been taken hostage with her. She supposed the others had been killed. She hoped Gunny had been able to get out safely. They needed someone to know where they were.

Mac sighed. She had failed a mission. Another failure to add to her long list. Possibly if she had been in a better mood she wouldn't have thought her life was so bad, but what could she do? They were in Iran, in the middle of a war, probably about to be tortured for information and then killed.

Mac sighed and leaned her head against the damp wall. She shivered again and wrapped her hands around her legs. One of the men looked up at her silently, with no expression on his face. She looked away. There was nothing to say.

She sat in silence for a few minutes, but when she heard a sound she looked up. It sounded like footsteps echoing down a corridor. She jumped to her feet and the other men looked at her. She positioned herself so that she would be behind the door when it opened. The other three stood, waiting next to each other.

The door opened quickly, nearly hitting Mac. A man appeared slightly in front of her and without thinking she leaned forward and elbowed him in the side of the head. He stumbled sideways and Mac leaned back, aiming a kick at his head. The force of it knocked his head sideways and he fell to the ground, cursing. Mac looked out into the corridor as a fist smacked into her nose. Her head snapped back and she fell to her knees. The cold barrel of a gun pressed into her forehead.

"Get up," a voice ordered in accented English. Mac swallowed, attempting to banish the dizziness, then stumbled to her feet, swaying slightly. Immediately one of the guards came behind her and twisted her arms behind her back. He led her out of the room and the door slammed behind them as Mac felt a shadow of fear descend upon her.

A/N: Sorry if it's a bit unclear. Hope it's all right. Please please PLEASE review!