A/N Thanks to everyone who's reviewed the first two chapters; I have to admit I wasn't too sure how people take this story because of what I've done to Harm. I was pleasantly surprised to see how well it has been received already. (I'm going to hold most of my thanks and comments to the reviewers for the afterward, but if something needs to be addressed I will do it in an AN)

A/N 2 I know I said the release rate for this story would be a little slower, and it will be, but I was thinking about Chapter 2 this morning while getting ready for work and this led naturally into Chapter 3, so I had to get both written today. And actually Chapter 4 will probably be back up as well and then its back to YCLIP for me.

Some words to the reviewers:

Hdrexel: Good to hear from you again; I'm glad that you enjoyed the first chapter.

R: Again, glad I grabbed you with the first chapter. Thanks for bringing up AJs 5th b-day party. For you I'm planning something around that…and you're right. Feelings will be high at that party.

BrightFeather: Glad you like it. I must give you some credit here…I'm really enjoying your 'Through a Glass, Darkly'. It helped me think a little on how I wanted to approach my 'What if Harm was CIA still' story. Thank you.

ReflectedWord: Thanks for the kind words. Don't worry, eventually Harm will be pulled back from the edge…but not before he goes over it.

Shelli: Fear not. I will admit that deep down I am a shipper at heart, but I don't really think Harm and Mac will just fall into each other's arms and say "Well ok, we love each other." Those stories make good reads, but for my stories I'm striving to show the struggle for them to be with each other; especially in this piece where Harm has shut himself off from his past for various reasons.

A Man Called Ghost

Chapter 3

Harm was lying in bed just staring at the cracked and pitted ceiling above him. For three days he'd been in Umm Qasar waiting for word from Webb. He hadn't gotten much sleep because he didn't drink when he was on an op, and if he didn't drink at night he couldn't escape the nightmares. Instead of facing the memory of those he'd killed and those he'd left behind Harm just didn't bother with sleep. As long as the op didn't run too long he would be fine…he could get by with a few hours of sleep a day snatched when he could combined with wake up pills.

Rolling away from the slumbering woman sleeping beside him he sat up slowly and reached for the rumpled black BDUs he was wearing on this op. Pulling them on he looked over his shoulder at the woman he'd shared his bed with. Sweat damped strands of her fiery red hair were spread over her stained pillow, her pale white skin wet with the same sheen of sweat from the heat. Amy Charleston was his contact here in Umm Qasar for this op. A British national she was put here by MI 6 with the cover of an international photojournalist and was currently on loan to the CIA. From what he'd seen of her work Harm figured she probably made a tidy sum on the side selling the photos she took to keep her cover intact.

Standing up Harm made his way over to a table up against the wall by the big window facing west. Picking up a single spotter's scope he looked down on the café where Webb had planned for the sting to close. The regular morning traffic, looked like journalists and contractors, getting their morning coffee. The radio on the table next to him crackled to life and Harm picked up the headset waiting for the transmission.

"We need a ghost to watch over us when the sun is high." was all he heard. The message repeated twice more and then the radio went dead once again.

Walking over to the bed Harm threw Amy's shirt onto her slumbering form. "Get up. We're a go for noon." He said harshly.

Sitting up while rubbing her eyes Amy's smile at Harm died when she saw him turn away and go over to the table to start inspecting the equipment they would need. He didn't really care if she was happy that she'd spent the last two nights with him or not. She wasn't anyone special to him, just a warm body to try and fill the ache that lived where his heart had once been.

"How's it look this morning?" she asked after she'd pulled her clothes on and came to stand next to him.

"Quiet; a bunch of journalists filling up on morning coffee and swapping rumors. They're going to be coming in at noon so I want to be upstairs in an hour." Harm said tossing the case that now held the spotter's scope to Amy. "You'll spot for me."

Amy just nodded and put the case back on the table and pulled the scope out to look down at the café.

Harm opened the long hard case that contained his rifle and began to assemble the weapon. Once it was together he grabbed some rags and some gun oil and solvent and began to clean it and check the action of the weapon. When this was done he took three magazines from the case and began to load them carefully with the ammunition he'd decided to use for the job. He had no idea how many people he might need to take down, and he had no idea if they'd be armored or not so hollow point armor piercing rounds would be best in his estimation. If they weren't wearing it would just mean a bigger mess, which would give the reporters a bigger story. Once the magazines were loaded he broke the weapon back down and placed the pieces and the magazines in the case and snapped it shut.

Looking around Harm grabbed up the portable radio unit and strapped it on. Grabbing the black BDU jacket he pulled it on and slipped on a black ball cap and sunglasses. Picking up the case he took a last look around to make sure that nothing was left behind. If this went down today he wouldn't be returning to this room and he didn't want to leave anything behind.

"Dust it and then meet me on the roof." He instructed Amy and then walked out the door without waiting for her reply. Climbing the stairs in the hallway Harm ignored the looks those he passed in the hallway gave him. Pushing open the door to the roof he looked around quickly and didn't see anyone. Making his way across the roof in the midmorning heat Harm took a moment to pick the best spot to set up. Setting the case down near the spot he picked Harm opened it and began to assemble the weapon again. Sliding a magazine home Harm slid the cocking handle back to chamber a round and then put the weapon on safe. Reaching down to the case he flipped open the cleverly concealed chamber in the back of the case and pulled out a thin foam pad that he laid out where he would take up his position.

Lying down on the pad Harm extended the bipod on his rifle and rested it on the crumbling lip of the short wall in front of him. Opening the scope Harm scanned the café below him.

Reaching up to his throat Harm keyed the mic to his radio. "The graveyard is haunted." God how he hated these codes…they seemed corny to him for some reason. Well Webb knew he was here now and would set things in motion soon. Nothing to do but wait until they showed up. Harm doubted Webb's plan would hold together, they rarely did. Reaching into the case he pulled out the two extra magazines and put them within easy reach.

As he was settling in to wait Harm heard Amy slide up next to him. "Everything's clean in the room…no prints, no fibres." She said quietly.

Nodding he just looked at the box holding her scope pointedly. "I have a feeling things are going to go to hell with this…Spider's plans usually do. Make sure you keep me aware of what's going outside my scope."

Amy just silently nodded as she pulled the scope from the hard plastic box and began to scan the occupants of the café.

At fifteen minutes to noon Harm saw two familiar figures walk into the open sided café and take the seat Webb had told Harm would be reserved for them. He knew Amy had felt him tense, but she didn't ask him any questions. Two days of him telling her to shut the hell up had finally cured her of her curiosity about him. Reaching up Harm adjusted his scope to zoom in on Mac's face. He knew he couldn't take the time to watch her, but he couldn't help himself…he just wanted to look at her, to memorize every line. As he was watching her he saw her look up and in his general direction and shifted the scope off of her. Mac always had seemed to be able to sense when something wasn't as it should be, and a sniper on the roof wasn't a good thing for someone that day.

"You know her, don't you Ghost." Amy stated quietly beside him.

"In another life." Harm answered just as quietly.

"She's beautiful."

"Focus on the job Charleston. Those two people will be dead if we don't. It doesn't matter who they are, or if I knew them or not. We're here to make sure they go home."

Nodding Amy went back to scanning the other occupants of the café. "There's our guy." She said when caught sight of a Navy Lieutenant Commander making his way to Mac and Strugis' table with Webb beside him.

Harm watched as the two met up with Mac and Sturgis and handshakes were exchanged all around. Something wasn't right about the situation a small voice in Harm's head told him. He watched as Webb ordered coffee for him and the others and then he noticed something. Running his scope around the café he cursed.

"What?"

"There's a hell of a lot of muscle there. And I don't think its all Spider's." Harm said as he counted off the number of overly large men he had seen in the café. Most of them appeared to be of Arabic descent and probably weren't working for Webb. As he watched another man made his way to the table with three very large goons around him. This would be the contact.

Harm made an effort to slow his breathing. He needed to get it as slow and shallow as he could so he could shoot between breaths. This was it…things were going to go down. "Keep that scope moving Charleston. Things are about to go south."

"How do you know?"

"I know Spider. Things are going down, now." Harm said as he watched Webb stand up and offer to shake the new man's hand. Instead one of the goons grabbed Webb's hand and forced him to the ground. All around the café men were standing up and moving towards the table.

"Fuck." Harm said softly to himself as he squeezed off a shot that smashed into the head of the man holding Webb. Quickly shifting his scope he squeezed off two more rounds into the other two goons the man had brought with him.

"Two at eleven o'clock." Harm head Amy say. Shifting his scope to the left he killed two more men in-between his heartbeats.

"One o'clock, red hat." One more man fell into a heap as Harm squeezed the trigger of his rifle.

Without saying a word Harm listened to Amy call out his targets and he worked his way through everyone who was threatening the people he was told to protect. Soon Mac, Webb, Strurgis and the suspect were the only four people standing in the café. Working on the assumption that everyone who hadn't run and was threatening the four people were targets Harm was fairly happy with the way things had worked out.

Suddenly Harm heard the squeal of tires as vehicles sped down the street in their direction. Looking over the edge of the building he didn't see the nondescript cars he expected to be there with the capture team. Instead he saw beat up old trucks full of men holding automatic weapons coming in their direction.

"Shit." He said quietly as he keyed his mic again. "Spider, this is Ghost. You have some party crashers coming your way."

"Can you give us some cover?" Webb asked over the radio.

"Negative. There are too many…I didn't come prepared to take on an army. Hold your position…damn it Webb I knew this would fucking happen!" he almost screamed into the radio. Grabbing up the single magazine he had remaining Harm slung the rifle over his back and sprinted to the door leading back into the shabby building he had been hiding out in. He hoped Amy was good enough to clean up the mess and pick up the brass before she went to ground.

Pushing his way through the people in the hallways Harm flew down the stairs of the building until he hit the ground floor. He had to get her out of there, he said he'd keep her safe. Bursting through the door that led into the building Harm glanced down both sides of the street to see the men from the trucks walking carefully towards the café hugging the buildings on his side of the street. Chuckling to himself he couldn't help but be pleased at how much fear these men had of him when he sat up high with his rifle. Pulling the .45 from behind his back he squeezed off a few rounds at the men closest to him and then sprinted across the street towards the café.