RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Harm/Mac
Disclaimer: I do not own JAG
Author's Note: I want to thank everyone for the reviews they have sent. I really do read them and listen to suggestions. I'm sorry if my last section was a little slow. I hope this section will make up for it! Again, thank you to all who have been reading and reviewing. Enjoy! Reviews always welcome!
Chapter Title: Dog TagsThe Next Day – 1500 PST – December 12th, 2004
Near the Redwood Forest
California
"Nice to see you again, Danny," Agent Thomas Long greeted happily, shaking the hand of his superior. Winters smiled in return, glad to see his friend in such high spirits. Long fit quite well into the atmosphere of this small outpost of the CIA, built specifically and secretly for hostage situations such as the current one for the western half of the United States. A graduate of MIT, Long decided to join the CIA to serve his country rather than work in the technological department of a huge multi-million dollar corporation. He even wears the long, white, science coat during working hours, Winters noted. This, however, only gave the man charm.
"Likewise," Winters replied back, immediately gesturing to Mac standing next to him. "This is Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, Marine Corp."
Long smirked a little, looking to her with obvious amazement. "A Marine? Gee, if looks could kill …"
"Tommy …" Winters warned, gazing at Mac with an apologetic eye.
Long quickly extended his hand to Mac eagerly, "Good to have you here, Colonel. I love being surrounded by intelligent people."
Mac replied innocently, "Better watch yourself, Agent Long. People who stay around me too long usually die." With a small smile, she shifted further into the huge lab, one full of huge TV screens, computers, and many devices that Mac admittedly could not identify. How long ago was it that I was on a mission similar to this? Mac asked herself reluctantly, realizing she may be a bit rusty. Too much 9 to 5 for me. She should just be happy that Krennick allowed her to go on this little expedition.
"Is that true?" Long asked Winters nervously as they followed Mac towards a huge map stationed in the middle of the enormous room.
Winters shook his head as they stepped up to the map, an obvious to scale rendition of the state of California. It shimmered brightly, causing the room to seem much darker than it actually was. Many sections of the map were marked with specific colors, each having a different meaning that Winters knew nothing about. That's why he trained as a field agent as opposed to something more specific, like technology. He liked tracking clues, people, information, and breaking and entering. He hated computers.
"What's been going on, Tommy?" Winters asked.
Long sighed slightly as he glanced at the map carefully, like that of a mother over her child. "Oh, it's been interesting." Stepping a bit closer, he pointed to a section of California that Mac knew she had never been; Shasta National Forest. "We've been receiving the signal from Commander Rabb's tracking device from this specific spot for close to 30 hours now. By helicopter, it's about a two hour distance from here."
"Seems to be the perfect spot to hide a center of operations for a terrorist group – in the middle of nowhere," Winters remarked lightly.
Long rested his hands on the edge of the map. "That's the problem, Danny. With satellite surveillance, we've been monitoring their activities since Commander Rabb was moved to that spot." Turning around slightly, he grabbed a few pictures off a nearby desk before placing them on top of the highlighted map in front of them. "It's a small cabin. Barely enough room for a vacation in the woods let alone a headquarters for anything. I think the spot is just being used to stash Rabb until a deal is made."
Mac bent over the pictures to see them closer, observing the tiny cabin and it's small space. It looks smaller than my own apartment, Mac mused silently, realizing that Harm's capture may not have led the CIA to anything meaningful. Perhaps hidden files and information were stored in the small space, but it was still a huge disappointment for the massive kill they expected to make. "Are you sure Harm is there?" In fact, the last thing Mac wanted to do was go in, guns blazing, and find out they were misled. Not that they weren't doing a little misleading of their own here. In fact, that morning Winters had Mac send a message to the group that she intended on making a deal.
Obviously, that was hardly true.
"Yes, assuming he's still wearing the tracking device," Long reassured.
"Which was attached to what?" Winter asked.
Long answered quickly, "His dog tags. I thought those were the best bet, considering the military wears them all the time."
Mac huffed, "Then you don't know him very well, Agent Long. He's forgotten to put them on recently. You were lucky he remembered that morning." Her eyes gazed into his, a knowing and challenging look indicating that if anyone knew the normal routine of Harmon Rabb it would be her. And perhaps if Long or Winters wanted to know what Rabb might do in this very situation, Sarah Mackenzie would likely be the number one source. Not only because she was in a relationship with Commander Rabb, but also because she has been his partner for nine years.
She certainly knew how Harmon Rabb worked.
Indeed Winters knew Mac would be of more help to come. "Well, he's wearing them now."
Mac shrugged. "Probably. If he or his captors didn't take them off and leave the cabin without you catching on."
Actually, Mac had a point that Winters needed to question of his friend to ensure Commander Rabb was still in the spot they suspected. "You actually saw him being placed into this cabin?"
Long turned again to grab another picture before placing it in front of Winters and Mac. "Right here," he began, the picture displaying a few trucks set outside, the same in the previous pictures, and a few people seeming to carry something towards the front porch of cabin. "We're not exactly sure they were carrying Commander Rabb, but it seems very likely."
"What are we looking at when we go in?" Winters asked as he walked around to the other side of the huge map towards a desk to the far side, and sitting down in the chair next to it. Gazing at the pictures, he noted the large amount of foliage around the property, essentially promising a nice, quiet approach.
Long leaned on the map. "First, there's a guard circling the cabin at all times. Second, there are no more than about five others inside the cabin at one time, not including Commander Rabb. Third …", he explained, pausing to retrieve a closer picture of the cabin to show Mac who still stood next to him, "Commander Rabb seems to be towards the back of the building. There is a back door, and, if you're lucky, you may be able to retrieve him without anyone but the dead guard outside knowing you're there."
Mac shook her head in disbelief. "I don't think we can be that quiet."
"I did say if you were lucky," Long interjected with a smile. "There's also much more foliage towards the back of the cabin than towards the front. So it's probably best to come from that angle."
Winters scratched his chin absently, thinking of all they would need for this to work. He didn't believe any more than four or five people, he, Mac and few fellow CIA agents, would be needed for this little operation. Perhaps back-up deep in the woods, waiting for their confirmation of rescue before moving in and taking the entire cabin and its occupants. The fact the terrorists led them to a building that didn't compare at all to the huge operations they hoped to find, Winters felt an urge to slam dunk this little outpost. Take it out, get Commander Rabb back, and move on to plan B for finding their headquarters. Hopefully something in the cabin would help them in their search.
"What do you think, Colonel Mackenzie? Doable?" Winters asked, already convinced they would, only interested in Mac's reaction.
She nodded eagerly. "If Harm's in there, I'm going in."
Winters smiled and stood up. "Let's get ourselves suited up."
Cabin
Somewhere in Shasta National Forest, California
1530 PST – December 12th, 2004
Harm groaned slightly as he felt a fist slam into his gut, the initial pain dulling to an ache quickly. Every pain he suffered during his time here has dulled to an ache, his whole body dipping in and out of unconscious. Right now, he barely knew what was happening, only feeling himself being pulled to his feet, dragged through the hallway and thrown into the room he knew way too well. Landing hard to the wooden floor, he heard the slight amusement coming from his captors before the door closed, leaving him lying helplessly on his side.
Amazed at himself after a beating or interrogation, he again felt an inner strength revive him enough to sit up, and soon stand. Walking gingerly over to the small window in his room that was just at his eye level, barely big enough to look out into the vast forest blanketing him further into this dreadful world, he rested a hand on the ledge to help keep his balance as he once again thought of Sarah. He smiled in spite of himself, knowing her reaction if she saw him like this; face puffed up like a balloon, hardly able to walk, small burns on his arms and legs, and probably a few broken ribs as he noted a sheer pain when he breathed. The wrath of the green, lean, mean, fighting Marine would fall onto this cabin. Not that he hasn't had to rescue her during many instances, recalling the numerous times he risked his life for her. I guess we've both had our share of life-saving, Harm reasoned.
As he said his silent prayer of reassurance and comfort to her, the one he said every moment he was conscious, he inadvertently remembered the first kiss they shared as a couple. Sure, they've kissed a few times before entering a relationship, but he mused over how long it took them to kiss when they were actually allowed to do so. Two weeks? Three? Harm guessed to himself. Somewhere in the middle. At the time he thought it crazy that it took them so long to become comfortable with each other, especially looking back and considering how everything is so different now.
Yet each needed that time.
Gazing out at the sky, the sun setting behind the tall trees, streams of light seeping between the leaves and bushes, Harm remembered with amazing accuracy that first kiss, that night.
Though their first date was simple; a night of milkshakes, burgers, conversation, and forgiveness next to the Potomac River, it ended just as simple with each returning home to their respective apartments alone. Harm knew not to press it, knew it was best to enjoy the moment of closeness and intimacy as it was that night. In fact, it had been perfect, Mac's kiss to his cheek leaving a tickling sensation to this day.
But our first kiss as a couple … well …
That was something different …
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown
2 weeks after first date
2030 EST
Harm gazed eagerly out the window as the sun began to sink deeply into darkness, his hand holding a glass of water he had nursed throughout the entire dinner with Mac. His other hand resting on the side of the windowsill, he wondered how his life ever progressed to this point, flirting with a happiness that was suddenly within his reach. It took him years to finally get over his father's death, and he waded through girlfriend after girlfriend before meeting Diane. Then with Diane's death and the chance of happiness lost, the circle began again until he met Mac.
Mac.
It took them nine years to finally reach this level with each other, to finally admit they wanted more from their time together. To admit there was more to have here, more happiness beyond either could possibly fathom.
"Well, what's your grade?" came a voice from the kitchen, causing him to take one more glance at the night sky before walking towards the dining room table.
"My grade is …" Harm began, grabbing his plate from the table before moving into the kitchen behind Mac, who was rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. "It's hard to ruin spaghetti."
Mac looked to him with a mock anger, poking him in the ribs as he stepped up to her. "You better watch yourself, sailor, or you'll be on a boat home."
Harm smiled widely, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "You did a great job," he reassured, walking back to the dining room table to retrieve a dish. "At least I'm alive."
Mac then turned to stare at him, leaning back against the sink, arms folded. "I think you would rather sit at home alone tonight," she chided playfully, watching as he placed a dish in the sink behind her, his face only inches from hers.
"I think I should shut up," Harm remarked carefully, his serious tone quickly turning into another broad smile. Mac laughed as she turned back around and continued her work as Harm began to assist.
But Mac pushed him away. "No, come on, Harm. You're my guest, you don't have to do my dishes."
Harm shrugged. "You sure?"
Mac nodded, looking to him as she placed a plate into the dishwasher. "Yeah, go sit down, get comfortable."
Harm followed her insistence and walked back into the small dining room. Unfortunately, it had been quite awhile since he was in Mac's apartment, a record he hoped to change in the next few months. During the past two weeks of their new relationship, most dates took place out of town, or in his apartment to watch a movie to ensure everything would be kept a secret. Being in her apartment instinctively gave their new relationship merit, as if neither believed it true until they had participated in couple-like activities. Mac making dinner, which she rarely ever did for anyone, seemed to seal the deal for Harm.
He was in a relationship with Mac.
Taking in the atmosphere, he noticed nothing much had changed; the couch and coffee table were at a slight angle to the fireplace, the TV nearby, as well as a desk over near the other side of the room with a computer and other important papers. It was then he noticed a small, new bookcase over near one of the huge windows that overlooked the street below. He took a sip of his water while he walked towards it, only then noticing a picture he had yet seen; a small girl standing next to a man down on one knee with his arm around her.
"Hey you," Mac whispered with a smile, walking up to him.
Harm gestured to the picture. "I don't think I've seen this one."
Mac looked to it with a small smile. "I found it recently while rummaging through old boxes. It's me with my Uncle Matt while we were on vacation. I must've been ten or so." The images from her childhood irrevocably entered her thoughts, the sadness coming quickly to the surface despite her best efforts. The sadness would never completely leave her, this she knew. It was apart of her and always would be.
Harm took the picture, giving it a closer look, while Mac walked over to the fireplace to start a nice fire. Strangely, the picture seemed familiar, in such a way causing Harm to take the picture out of its frame to see where it was taken. Flipping the picture to the back only revealed three upper case letters written in the far left, bottom corner. "RRM?" he called out, glancing to Mac curiously.
Mac glanced to him for a second before answering with the slightest hint of disappointment that he couldn't guess, "Red Rock Mesa."
"Of course," Harm responded, a little embarrassed at his inability to guess the small riddle, as he placed the picture back in its frame and into it's previous spot. The face of the girl in the picture clearly resembled Mac, yet the eyes spoke of pain, hurt, and fear, despite the smile she sported to hide her feelings. Such bravery clearly hadn't left Mac in her current years, Harm often seeing her vile attempt to hide her problems recently. Especially from me, Harm realized. In the future, it won't be so easy.
Harm walked towards the couch, watching as Mac prepared the fire. "Did you vacation with him often?"
Mac nodded slightly, the fire quickly lighting, before she turned around to face him. Normally the subject of her past was an issue she rarely discussed with anyone. What Harm knew often was by mistake, including long-lost husbands showing up on the scene, as well as dying, abusive fathers she thought she had left years ago. Each time, each flashback to her past gave Harm an even larger knowledge base than she wished. Yet if anyone needed to know all she had survived and been through, Harm was the perfect candidate. Through everything, he has always been the most supportive.
"He tended to be the only normal family I had," Mac informed as she moved to the TV to retrieve the rented movie and place it in the DVD player. Oddly enough, since they began their relationship, movies tended to be the only way to release the nerves on nights like tonight. Mac had no clue why they were so nervous around each other, why it was taking them so long to be comfortable.
Harm moved around the couch to sit down, placing his water on the nightstand next to him. Mac started the movie and stepped over to the couch to sit down, as well, allowing Harm to take her hand. In fact, he seemed eager to continue their discussion, another question dancing across his lips. "Do you keep the picture to remind you of the good memories?"
Mac turned to look at him and squeezed his hand. "No," she began quietly, "I keep it to remind me of the bad. To remind me how far I've come." She then snuggled a little closer to him. "But I don't want to talk about that now."
Harm nodded slightly, deciding to enjoy Mac's presence in his arms and not push the subject further. It wasn't necessary, especially so early in the relationship. They were just beginning to feel each other out, to sense what the other expects and wants in such situations. Right now, Mac just wanted to be held.
As the movie began, Harm whispered, "I've really enjoyed these past two weeks." Why he said it exactly, he didn't know. But he said it, and he would say it again.
Mac leaned back a little to look up at him and she smiled knowingly. "I know. I've enjoyed them, too."
Harm normally would think that his statement was enough, yet he continued, "I know I've been a little afraid of this, of us. If something were to go wrong …"
Mac caressed his cheek lightly, whispering in return, "I've been afraid, too."
Looking into his eyes, Mac suddenly felt the fear break, felt it release her to do what she's wanted to do since this started, since she met him. Kiss him and know she was kissing him because they were together; not because Harm was missing an old girlfriend, not because she was having second thoughts about her marriage, and not because they could hide behind the old tale of mistletoe. Now was their time. It was here.
Harm didn't hesitate giving her what she wanted as he bent down to kiss her, Mac feeling the urgency, the heat, and the insistence in his lips. It was clear this had been something they both wanted. With her hand moving through his hair, she felt the kiss deepen, their lips learning new territory, enjoying the intimacy wished for yet defined for so long as off-limits. Now there was nothing stopping them, no alarm ringing off in her head telling her she had to stop because there was a fiancé waiting, or because she was merely standing in as someone else.
Yet as the kiss deepened further, from the light, simple touch, to a passion so uncontrollable, so unbelievable, Mac couldn't remember the last time she felt such love, such need for anyone. What was building up in that kiss was blinding, something Mac knew she may not be ready for. Not yet.
She broke the kiss then, her breath a little ragged as she stood up, leaving a surprised Harm waiting for an explanation. However, only the sounds of the movie were filling the muted space, the muted moment as Mac tried to figure out exactly what just happened. This felt like much more than just her attempt at a relationship with Harm. This felt like something deeper, something only the very lucky had.
"What's wrong?" Harm asked, a little confused, though feeling the same shock to the kiss that she was. Where did it come from? The passion?
Mac looked his way, her arms folded. "I didn't know we had that in us." She knew there was urgency there, but not like that.
Harm stood. "Me neither."
Mac asked, a little more lightly, "Where did it come from?"
Harm smiled slightly as he moved around the couch towards her. "Nine years bottled up, I guess."
Mac walked a little closer, closing the gap she had inadvertently created because of her shock. "I think …" she began in a whisper, her thoughts running faster than she could comprehend them, "…I need time."
Harm looked away, normally wanting to argue the point, reminding her of how long they have been waiting for this. However, deep in his own heart, he felt the same struggles, the same shock, the same need to think this through. At the moment, the kiss, the urgency there, the uncontrollable passion, could take them to a place they weren't ready for right now. Harm knew he needed to be careful, that if he let the passion run, there may be some regrets, going too fast too soon. "Me, too."
He then stepped up to her, gave her a light kiss, and whispered, "I think I should go."
Mac looked into his eyes. "I didn't mean you had to leave …"
Harm shook his head, quickly interjecting, "It's better if I do. Otherwise …". He smiled and kissed her again on the cheek, wishing they were at that point, wishing he could just let go. But right now, he couldn't. Not only because she wasn't ready, but because he knew he wasn't ready, either. They would be jumping over a cliff blindly, and he knew they shouldn't jump until they knew what they were jumping into. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Mac nodded as she watched him grab his coat from the hook besides the door and quickly leave. Breathing deeply, she looked down, away, and finally stepped back to the TV, it's images flashing. Turning it off, her heart wished he was here, wished they were ready, and wished there were no nerves. Actually, what happened tonight showed them what was to come, what would happen if they ever let go completely.
In fact, Mac felt her heart race when thinking about it.
What she didn't know was that Harm still stood outside her door, leaning back against it, his own heart racing at the very thought of completing his intentions, of fighting his fear. Yet there he stood.
There he closed his eyes, thinking of her, thinking of the kiss, knowing their time would come.
Cabin – Shasta National Forest
California
1600 PST – December 12th, 2004
Harm leaned back against the wall next to the window, remembering that moment in his life as clearly as he saw this room. They came so close to crossing the line, the line they actually were permitted to cross, yet each fell to their fear. In the moment Harm wondered if they made the right choice, if giving into their fear was wise. Now, in hindsight, it was the best choice they could make. Though they were officially dating that night, each still looked at the other as more of a friend than a possible lover. A friend they were trying a relationship with because of the love they felt. The fact that they were so close to changing their relationship in that moment, with one night, scared both of them off.
However, as Harm considered that night, he heard voices just outside his window. Though the glass prevented him from hearing the entire conversation of the two guards, he heard a few words that gave him knowledge he was glad to have. Satellite, urgent, leaving, and …
No, he couldn't have heard that.
Could he have?
Harm almost felt elated for the first time since he arrived here. Though he got the impression they were moving him, which would normally be disastrous, he also heard something else that made his situation turn for the better. Looking around frantically for anything sharp, anything that had an edge, his hands fell to his dog tags.
Dog tags …
Pulling them off quickly, he moved quickly over to the bed, to the space between the bed and wall, and dropped to his knees. Taking the edge of the dog tags, though somewhat dull, he scraped into the wood, which was soft enough to make an impression. Scraping, scraping, and scraping some more, he only hoped he was still here when the rescue team arrived. For he knew with the guards suddenly wanting to leave the cabin ASAP, the urgency in their movements, Mac must have caught on. He felt her presence, knew she was coming for him, and knew if he finished his impressions in the wood she would catch on again.
The door to his room suddenly popped open, causing him to glance up, drop his dog tags quickly to the ground, and stand to see the guard staring at him. If there was a chance to think, he didn't find it as he was once again manhandled out of the room and into the hallway. He didn't fight this time, allowed them to take him as his mind traveled back to his dog tags, to his scraping, to what he felt especially for Mac.
Please Mac, Harm begged, please see it …
Shasta National Forest
California
1800 PST – December 12th, 2004
Mac realized she had not been dressed like this for some time; a CIA, black, combat uniform, every kind of secret weapon the CIA could muster in every pocket she had, and wearing a thin pair of headphones as her radio. Combat training came with the territory of being a Marine, yet she felt a dire need to be dressed as a Marine rather than an agent. Luckily, along with her adrenaline and the small, thin layer of thermal dressing underneath the uniform she wore, she hardly noticed the chill in the air. There wasn't enough room in her mind to worry about being cold.
Looking up, she watched as the helicopter moved out above them, leaving the five of them alone. Agent Winters took his normal team of CIA ops, along with Mac, to help secure the location and to rescue Harm. Being with a team who has done this work a million times before comforted Mac further, giving her the confidence that they would find him.
The darkness surrounded them well and made them invisible as they moved quickly through the bushes towards their destination. Winters glanced at a small device in his hand, the tracking signal helping him locate Commander Rabb, as well as a highlighted spot on the small map showing him exactly where they were in comparison to where they were going. Only about a half hour walk, Winters noted, placing the small device back in his pocket and indicating to the team to keep moving.
Before long, Mac realized they had come up on a clearing, a good thirty-five minutes, and eighteen seconds later. Hiding deep behind the bushes, the strong smell of pine, mud, and rain filling her nostrils, Mac noted one truck was missing from the two seen in the satellite pictures hours before. She saw Winters, who was slouched and gazing at the scene before him; a quiet cabin, lights on, and one guard making his rounds.
"Agent Winters," came a voice whispering in his headphones.
Winters pressed his hand to his left ear. "Colonel?" He knew that Colonel Mackenzie was no amateur, and knew if she needed to say something now, it must be important.
"There's one truck missing. Are you still getting the tracking signal?" she asked, a little worried with his answer.
Winters quickly retrieved his small, electronic map. "I see it. Yes, we're still getting the tracking signal." He knew what it might mean, however. With one truck missing, it suggested Commander Rabb might have been moved. Perhaps they caught on.
However, they needed to keep moving and couldn't dwell on small chances. As he saw the guard moving around the back of the cabin, Winters looked to a fellow CIA op, Agent Mark Winston, and without another thought the agent moved in. Winston was one of his best, and he knew he could depend on the man to do anything.
Watching from the back, Mac realized then that even though Winters may have spieled about how important her presence was to this mission, she sensed quickly she would be one of the last to be used for anything such as take out a guard. Her presence was needed for merely information on the ground, as someone who knew, if the situation presented itself, what Harm might do in a dangerous spot. The last thing Winters wanted to do was guess Commander Rabb's actions, someone who would not think twice about taking a situation upon himself, about risking his life in a second. The Commander, as he knew, was known for such stunts.
Mac gazed at the scene of the guard, and in the next second he was gone. She felt herself smile, awed by the stealth displayed by the man Winters sent in. If all of his agents were so quiet, perhaps there was hope.
"All secure," Winston said in everyone's radio, Winters seeing from his position only a small hint of his agent still at the back of the cabin, next to the back door.
Winters quickly called each member of the team to move in to respective spots across the way, and as each left he suddenly felt Mac's presence next to him. Gazing to her, he sighed, saying quietly, "You stay here, Colonel."
Mac huffed, "I didn't get dressed up to sit on the sidelines, Agent Winters."
"We'll call you when we're in," Winters pressed, beginning to move when he felt a tug at his arm.
"Do I need to remind you of the capability of women in combat?" Mac asked, with a hint of annoyance in her eyes.
Winters sighed again, looking over at his men waiting for him at the back door, then looking back at Mac. Indeed, it was his own words that said Mac, of all people, would be the perfect candidate for this type of operation. Her skills and achievements as a marksman, her previous combat experience, as well as her love for Harm gave her intangibles that set her above most others in this situation. "Okay, Colonel, cover me, and follow us in."
In a second he was gone, and Mac watched him, slightly angered but willing to take the role given. Taking a deep breath, she hurried through the brush and watched as they positioned themselves around the back door. Mac saw Winters talking to two of his agents, and watched as they moved quickly around the other side of the cabin. Coming up on them, Mac looked to Winters, seeing him take only a second before motioning to Winston to break the door down.
In seconds, Winston kicked the door through and dropped to the ground, one man on the other side glancing in shock towards the sudden disturbance only to have his life ended quickly with a quiet, precise shot to the head. Winston and Winters looked to each other, trying to guess which one shot so quickly, before looking back at a satisfied Mac holding a silencer pistol. "Let's move," Mac insisted with a whisper, smirking at a shocked but content Winters who nodded and quickly urged Winston to his feet.
Winston moved quickly to the left wall and hugged it, moving quietly and swiftly through the small hallway space. Winters had taken the right side with Mac right behind him, both in the same position as Winston. In this instance did Mac take a second to absorb her surroundings, observing the faint, brown coloring of the wooded walls, years and years of wear indicating the cabin did not have much life left. Mac saw a doorway on the left coming up and looked to Winters, who had also seen it.
He nodded in acknowledgement and kept moving through the small hallway, coming up on an open living room. Looking to Winston, Winters passed quiet communication before they each took a second and jolted around the corner. Mac followed, only to see them shoot two more people in mere seconds. The two other agents came through the door, having taken care of the front part of the cabin.
Winters motioned for the two agents to move towards the few rooms off of the main living room, as Winston took it upon himself to give the cabin a once over of his own. Obviously it was important to be sure they secured it before moving on.
As Winters turned to tell Mac to address the room they had passed, a likely spot to hold Commander Rabb, he realized she had already moved to it and was now attempting to break down the locked door. It didn't take too many kicks to break it through, Mac pushing it quickly to the side.
"Harm!" Mac called, in fear, in hope, in mere adrenaline and surprise that it had been this easy. Immediately her mind filled with images …
Harm sick, Harm lying dead, Harm bleeding, Harm needing her …
She racing to him, hugging him, holding him …
Yet as the second of hope passed, and she finally got a full view of the small room, and all she saw was a bed to the right that sat parallel to the back wall. Stepping into the space, immediately the musty stench of the room filled her nostrils, as well as the faint smell of the blood. Looking to the left, she saw spots of the blood, one spot agonizingly large, while the other next to it held a deep red that chilled her soul.
Moving a little further in, she hardly realized Winters following her, his face displaying a deep disappointment. Mac barely hung onto her pistol, it's handle hanging from her numb hand. The moon from the window before her filtered in a white light, and immediately Mac felt Harm's presence. There was no doubt he had been here. Her soul irrevocably touched his, her own heart beating in time to his.
They came so close …
Mac moved to the bed and sat down, the weight of missing him, the weight of his pain searing through her veins. Her hand went to her eyes, a vile attempt to make all of it go away, to make everything she had done to get here, everything that put Harm through such a horrible test just fall into the darkness of a forgotten dream. Yet the air filling her lungs, the rank stench of the room, the light from the window, and a hand of comfort to her shoulder told her none of this was a dream, that everything was the nightmare she feared the most.
Lowering her head, she couldn't find the will to cry, her mind whirling from the lost attempt. There were so many possibilities right now of where Harm could be. If his captors caught on, maybe they killed him and buried him somewhere around here. Maybe they took him and killed him at their next stop. Maybe they took him to another country, hiding him forever, just like his father.
Maybe she would never see him again.
"The tracking signal is still around here somewhere," Winters informed distantly, Mac barely hearing him behind her, nodding knowingly. Why did she know this was going to happen? Why?
As she removed her hand from her eyes, a small glare blinded her quickly, the light from the window bouncing off of an object at her feet. Focusing her eyes a bit, what lay carelessly at her feet, what suddenly surged a small bit of hope through her heart, was the one object Harm often forgot to put on before going to work. The object she questioned hours before.
Bending down, she retrieved the dog tags, Harm's dog tags. Mac knew what they looked like, had seen them a thousand times before this. Yet this time, the dog tags promised Harm's survival. Now it was likely he dropped them, perhaps leaving them to indicate to her that she was still alive. In reality, if that scenario were true, he may have hurt his chances of being found since the dog tags brought the CIA here. Even so, Mac felt a small sense of relief.
Holding them securely in her hands, her thumb tracing the marks etched into the shiny, silver coating, her eyes caught etching she did not expect. Mac slid her left foot a little further to the left, revealing a scraping in the wood that she knew she normally would not have seen if not for the dog tags. The etching was small, done in haste, though it's meaning was not lost.
It's meaning caused Mac to smile from ear to ear.
Winters suddenly appeared behind her, his presence towering over her as he noticed Mac's fixation towards the floor. "What is it?"
Mac smiled wider.
"RRM."
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