Okie dokie, two more after this. And this story is done this week for sure. There may be a delay in story three, I just havne't had time to work on it at all this weekend. My granfather needed some help and that ate up all my Saturday. Anyway... bare with me when it comes to all the techie talk. I a) know little about planes (prob less than little), b) refused to seek out and watch 'The One That Got Away' again and c) this is a story, it's supposed to be unbelievable. ;)

Jackie.

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion, alix33, jnp, MacHarm4Ever, Tania, Macaroon, harmfan, Jagnut, Claire Vincent, Navy Babe, Nix, Martini, jaggurl, Laura, CoolCat, sunnysky, smithknk, mjag, FoxyWombat, carbygirl, moonlight, socgrl, NinjaTurtle, Sunny, kristie, mjag. Aserene, Dessler, moonlight, southernqt, LiseGirardi, Jade, Smithknkand anyone else I missed for the Feedback

Part 15 – This Wasn't In The Flight Plan pt 1

1600 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Raymond Levine pushed through the double glass doors and walked through the bullpen. The Marine on duty checked his pass and allowed him to walk on through. "The General's office is there." The corporal said, pointing in the direction of Coates' office. With a grimace, Levine trudged passed the hustle and bustle of life at JAG ops and , without so much as an introduction to Coates, walked straight into Creswell's office.

"Sir! I am sorry, he just walked in sir." Coates said, with a worried expression on her face, but Creswell just ordered her out.

Levine looked at the faces in the room, this wasn't good, this wasn't good at all.

HALF AN HOUR EARLIER:
1530 Zulu
North East Of Corner Brook
Newfoundland, Canada

Nothing on the plane was working. "Damnit, Harm. . .You said the batteries would get the radio working!" Mac flipped the only switches Harm had told her about during their days in the woods. It had been worked out between them and Creswell that once they were able to recapture the planes, they should get on the radio to the Marine insurgent team that they had crossed the boarder with. The team leader of that group was a former client of Cresswell's, someone that owed the General a favor and was more than eager to repay it in anyway. The captain would take the transmission from Harm and Mac and notify Creswell about it. They would also head towards the compound, securing anything that could clear Harm's name.

Glancing up, she noticed the fire spreading to the second cabin, it wouldn't be long before the barn was engulfed as well. "God, where is he?" She sat in the cockpit, torn between the want to go after him and the order that he gave her to stay put. She tried the radio again, realizing that one of the cables had not been plugged in all the way. After shoving the cable into its place, the radio led screen lit up as a comforting wave of static washed over her. "Yes!" Mac played with the knobs, setting the correct frequency before rambling off the information. "Eagle, this is Fox, do you read me?" With a baited breath she waited for something to come over the line. "Damnit, Eagle this is Fox, do you read me?"

(A second later, the line came alive. "Fox, this is Eagle, we read you loud and clear. . . Are you in the air?")

"Negative, but please pass the information on to Biff that we are in possession of Ghost one and Ghost two." All of the little code words amused Mac, but it was all part of undercover work. "Will relay more intel as it becomes available."

("That's a roger, Fox. . .We'll keep this line open, it should give us a pretty accurate idea of your location. Over and out.")

Mac stared out into the brush, where she saw a figure heading towards her. Turning she saw the barn now starting to catch fire, this was just not good. "Harm, hurry! This whole place is going to blow!"

Harm emerged from the brush, limping his way up to the planes. As quick as possible, he managed to put on the flight suit. "Mac, there are leg restraints on the bottom of your seat make sure they are locked." He disappeared under one plane, locating the section where he removed the chip from. There, in a hidden hatch was another chip, which he quickly inserted into the control panel. Rushing to the second plane he did the same thing, then opened up the cockpit and painfully made his way up.

Turning around, Mac found Harm in the other plane's cockpit and immediately she started to panic. "You're not going to have me fly this thing are you? Harm?"

Harm heard her and started chuckling. After entering some details into the onboard computer, Harm slipped out, closed the canopy and headed back over to the lead plane. With a grunt he made his way up, sat in the main seat and locked in his own leg restraints. After slipping on his helmet and lowering the canopy, through the rearview he saw Mac's pale face and chuckled slightly. "What's the matter, Mac? I thought you knew how to fly?"

"Uh, yea. . . Just not one of these. .. things. . ." She gulped, then turned to look back at the other plane. "Are we just going to leave the other plane here?"

Harm entered in some information into the computer and soon the plane started moving slowly on the gravel, trying to get it's momentum. "Well, this is classified. . .One of the things we were working on was how to get the planes to work in tandem without having a pilot in the second plane. . .Not sure what the purpose is since these are not meant to be unmanned. . .It only worked half of the time, so if we can land both of these babies, we'll be making a little bit of CIA history. . . Just keep an eye on our 'wingman', Ghost 2."

CIA history, yea right. Mac wanted nothing to do with the CIA, it was bad enough she and Harm already had a history with the agency. Turning slightly, she saw the other plane mimicking their movements, even the slight turns Harm made in order to avoid nicking the wings with the trees. "Just promise me one thing, will ya?" She breathed softly.

"Anything." He glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his eyes offering her a sincerity in them that comforted her slightly.

Mac hated that she was afraid of traveling in these types of jets. Sure, she was now an aviator, capable of flying his precious 'Sarah.' But, she wasn't too sure that this adventure in flying wouldn't end up the same as all of their previous ones. "Well, first off, I am not looking forward to another hard landing. Second, I'll be just happy if we never meet any deranged mountainfolk and third, I really do not want to eject from this thing."

He should have been slightly offended, the old Harm would have been, but those were valid concerns if every time your partner took you flying something earth shattering happened. "I'll do my best. . .Trust me, I don't want to eject from this. . .I am not planning for this ride to be anything but smooth. . .my world is on this plane." Mac glanced at him through the mirror and her breath caught in her throat at the amount of sentiment in his voice. "I meant that just as it sounded, Sarah. . . And when we land, things aren't going to change."

Just as quickly as he'd shown it, Harm veiled his emotions and was back to business. If his world was riding in this plane with him, he wasn't going to let anything go wrong. Finally, he brought the plane to a stop at the end of the long, dirt runway. He said a quiet prayer that everything would be alright, that nothing would be sucked into the engines, that the landing gear would survive the terrain. "Here we go."

Mac turned noting the second plane was still behind them, but there was another problem. Temir's men, the ones who survived, were also following close behind firing their weapons at them. "Harm, they're coming after us." The moment she got that sentence out, the engines fired up and she was pressed back into her seat as the plane started moving faster and faster and faster. The land started passing by them quickly, she could feel the plane angling to take off, but nothing was happening. "Are you sure the runway is long enough?" She yelled over the noise of the engines, noting that they were running out of room.

"Climb, baby, climb" Harm cried out as he pulled back on the stick as much as he possibly could, sending the plane skyward just in the nick of time. "Whew" He breathed out and managed to take a quick glance at Mac who was pinned to her seat with her eyes closed. "Hold on, Mac. . .I need to climb as much as I can." He pointed the plane skyward, in a sharp angle that few test pilots dared toy with. But, he knew this plane, just as well as he did his beloved Tomcat.

"Alright." Mac's head was already pounding, her stomach started to do summersaults as the force of the plane kept her body pinned to the seat. She'd taken off from a Tomcat and MIG, though the force of lift off was always rough, this was worse and almost painful. It took minutes to reach their cruising altitude and just as Harm started leveling the plane, Mac opened her eyes. "Oh my God." Her stomach was in her throat, much as it always was the few times she'd managed to ride on a supersonic jet. But, this was much different, the view was unbelievable. "Oh my God." She repeated again, swallowing twice and breathing deeply to help calm her nerves.

Harm glanced at her through the mirror and smiled. "Amazing isn't it?" Below the aircraft, clusters of clouds could be seen in an otherwise clear, baby blue sky. Above, the skies were a violent indigo color. Just a few thousand feet more and they'd be in outer space. He'd flown the aircraft several times in his six month stint with the CIA and never once got tired of the view. "If you look straight ahead, you can see the curvature of the earth."

But Mac wasn't looking straight ahead, instead she had her head turned around, glancing out at their 'wingman.' "Just in case you wanted to know, Ghost two is still with us."

"I know, I have it on radar." He glanced down at the instrument panel, noting that everything was running smoothly, which was a nice change of pace from their angst filled week. He laughed slightly, amused by his own thinking and how silly ideas seemed to be popping into his head all of a sudden.

"What's so funny?"

Harm sighed. "Nothing it's stupid."

Mac furled her brow, she was getting a little bit used to this new form of aviation. Too bad she wouldn't even be able to being telling people about her flight over the world. This was literally like being in space. "What is it?"

"Well, at the risk of sounding utterly corny. . .You can't say many guys have given you the world. . .but me." He pointed downward and grinned at her through the mirror and she smiled back. "Told you it was corny."

"No, it isn't. . .And you didn't have to give me the world, Harm. . .Just you." With a sigh, she broke the intimate haze they were both momentarily in, there would be times for that later. "Should I get on the horn with the Marines?"

"Yea. . .I can't contact Groom Lake as of yet. . .Before we boarded I snooped around, seems like our crew damaged certain things on the planes on purpose. Long range radio won't work. . . We'll probably have only a good five minute window to keep in touch with the Marines."

Mac nodded and grabbed the radio which she kept on the same frequency. "Eagle this is Fox, Ghost one and Ghost two are in the air, repeat, we are in the air. ETA is. . ." She trailed off for a moment.

"One hour and two five minutes." Harm said and Mac relayed the details back through the radio.

("Roger that Fox, ETA: one hour, two five minutes. Is the location still Dreamland?")

"Dreamland?" Mac questioned.

Harm checked the information on his screens and replied back. "That's an affirmative, Eagle. . . Please pass the information on to Biff. . . We'll keep the channels clear for additional contact. Confirm my last."

("Roger that Fox, have a safe passage, good luck. .. Eagle out.")

There was a cut off of static and then the line went completely dead, they were officially out of range.

1602 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Levine stood amongst a group of men who he knew too damn well and non of them seemed to be amused at his presence save for three who he came to loathe: Roberts, Turner and Creswell. "Close the door, Coates and thank you." The General said, then careful seated himself behind his desk. "Director Levine, I am sure you are wondering why we called this little get together."

Ray slowly took in each and every person in the room. There was DOD Director Richard Enterprise, FBI Director Thomas Rivers, White House Chief Aid Mark Auberry, DHS Director Zachary Brown and finally, non-other than SECNAV Sheffield. "No, not really, General. . .well, I am curious yes, but being in such company I can only deduce something has gone wrong with the state of our governmental agencies." He plastered on a convincing fake smile and proceeded to shake hands with his counterparts.

"General, there is another call for you, sir." Coates said over the intercom and Creswell excused himself. He spoke quietly to the Marine's team leader who relayed information about the flight's ETA.

Nervously, Levine glanced at Creswell, then at his two nosy officers who were smirking at him. They were smirking at him! How dare they! "What is so amusing, gentlemen?"

Bud was having too much fun with this whole situation, but it was going to be a good day. Not only were Harm and Mac alive and well, but Levine's powers were going to disappear. "Nothing, sir. . .Inside joke."

After hanging up Creswell addressed the group. "I am very sorry for the interruption, gentlemen, but it pertains as to why we've gathered you together at this venue. . . Mr. Secretary, please go ahead."

Sheffield leaned up against Creswell's desk. "Gentlemen, several months ago we were all notified about two top secret planes that appeared to have blown up over Canadian airspace. . . Recently, there was an accusation of alleged treason against Naval Aviator and JAG officer, Commander Harmon Rabb, junior. . . Your offices were put on high alert over this matter, but were not completely informed. . .It seems that the planes were just fine and the Commander along with his partner, Andy Watson, were taken by one of the men on our most wanted poster Temir Ayaz Muhammad Savrai."

Levine wanted to crawl in a hole and die. True, eventually they were all to discover Temir as the mastermind, he already had a CIA crew ready to storm the compound, which would, essentially make everyone believe in his methods. Part of the plan, was to hopefully have Rabb caught and killed for treason which would prevent anything from leaking out. Now, if this little meeting was about what he thought, all of those plans were shot to hell. His six am shot of cognac was literally rising up his esophagus.

Sheffield continued his 'presentation' in a steely, professional voice that was unraveling the great CIA director. ". . .who intended to use Watson and Rabb to train his own forces on how to use the planes. . ."

The information was tough to swallow, it sounded a bit too far off considering the amount of man power that was used to prove or disprove the disappearance of the Aurora's. All of the agencies had worked together, trying to secure the information, but when one part of the group, the integral part that set the mission up in the first place is dirty, the rest of the agencies had, unknowingly been viewing things through a large sheet of wool. DOD Director Enterprise raised his hand to cut off anything else Sheffield was bound to say. "So, in English, the planes never blew up and Rabb is alive?"

Creswell nodded. "Yes, alive and well and bringing the planes back home"

Placing a hand over his mouth, Levine ran out of the office and straight to the nearest waste basket which happened to be Coates'. Out came the cognac he had for breakfast along with the partially digested calcium tablet that he'd taken before stepping in to JAG ops. "Sir! Are you alright." Coming around her desk, Coates cringed at the sight, then immediately tried to help Levine out.

"Bathroom, where the hell is the bathroom?" He said, turning green at the thought of him embarrassing himself in such a way.

Coates helped the man stand up, then lead him through the bullpen and towards the restrooms. "Do you need anything, sir?"

"Yea, a shot gun." Levine drew out as he got better acquainted with the porcelain in the men's bathroom.

When Coates returned to her post, she found Creswell standing there with an amused expression on his face. "Petty Officer, please evacuate the building, have two Corporal's up here and lock down ops. . . Do it calmly."

"Sir?" Coates was confused, more than confused. Things about Harm and Mac were kept very silent and for once, the office scuttlebutt did not circulate past the only three officers at JAG ops who knew the truth.

Creswell took a stern look on his face. "It's not an emergency, but I prefer to have you and the rest of our crew out of the office in case something bad happens. . .Now, move it, Petty Officer."

In the head, Levine stood before the mirrors studying his image. "Damnit!" He yelled, realizing that the longer this kept going, the worst he was going to look. Still, there was a chance, a slight chance, but a chance nonetheless that something would work in his favor. With a sly grin, he pulled out his cell phone and patched a call to Groom Lake AFB base commander. "Yes, this is CIA Director Raymond Levine, we have a situation that I think you may need to be apprised of."

1615 Zulu
Somewhere Above The United States

Mac had gotten sick twice, even though the ride had proved to be as smooth as Harm had promised. Still, either her nerves or even the slight movement of the aircraft was making her positively sick. "How is it that I can fly a biplane but I can't sit for an hour and a half in this thing?"

To say that he hadn't been expecting this was a lie, Harm knew how bad things got for Mac when they went supersonic. Besides, even his trainee had lost his lunch before they even hit cruising altitude during their first run. "Mac, I've had aviators, guys who normally fly these things puke in the backseat before. . . just take deep breaths."

"If I take anymore deep breaths, it's going to sound like I am in Lamaze class."

Harm chuckled, only Mac would be cracking some joke, sarcastic or otherwise, during this situation. "How's our 'wingman?'"

Mac turned slowly and looked out back to see the plane slightly above them. "Still there, but it's gone up in altitude, before it was just right behind us."

"Gotcha, this was the same problem we had during the test run, we have to manually control it, else it will try to buzz right by us." He implemented a few commands through his control panel and soon the other plane settled back behind them at a comfortable distance. "That should do it." He checked on the time and the fuel, they were a little low, but as long as he didn't have to do any evasive maneuvers they would arrive with just enough to land comfortably. "In about ten minutes I need to start our decent. . .I'll be straight with you, Mac, it may feel a little weird, but I'll try to keep her steady."

Mac sighed. "Oh, I don't think I have anything left to puke out, besides. . .I think I am getting used to this." The plane banked an strange angle as Harm shifted the plane to begin their decent. "Or not."

Harm chuckled. "You still want to learn some aerial acrobatics in 'Sarah'?"

"I'll let you know after this flight is done. . .At the moment, you couldn't get me near 'Sarah' even if you offered a million bux."

1635 Zulu
Groom Lake Air Force Base
Nevada

Air Force Major Malcolm 'Burn' Sundin and his wing man Captain Arnold 'Matchbox' Rutherford were in the pilot ready room, slipping out of their civvies and into the flight gear. The men were quiet and for good reason, one of their own, was a traitor and they were being sent in to intercept him. Minutes earlier the base had received a call from one of the higher ups of a possible strike against the United States. The Aurora's that had been missing for half a year hadn't blown up at all, instead, enemies of the State had, somehow, bribed a lead pilot into stealing these precious planes in order to exact their revenge on American interests.

The pilot, both men knew well, as they had worked jointly on a case involving the CIA. Burn sighed as he slipped on the g-suit. "I can't believe Hammer would do something like this. . .he seemed so. ."

"Patriotic? Yea, Burn, but you never know these days. . .I wonder how they got him to do it?" Matchbox checked the hoses for the O2, then proceeded to tighten all of the clamps on the suit.

"I don't know, but. . .the CIA director claims he killed Andy Watson. . .Can you believe that? Who the hell would want Watson dead?" Things just didn't make sense to Burn, Harm had seemed to be such a normal, good natured type of person that it was unfathomable that he would be involved in attacking the United States. Still, orders were orders, friendly or unfriendly, they had a job to do.

"Ready?" Matchbox asked, as he slipped on his helmet, tapping it a few times as he'd superstitiously had done during his whole flying career, something that he felt brought him luck.

"No, but we don't have a choice do we?" The two men headed out of the ready room and out a small corridor that lead to the hangers where two F/A-22 Raptor's were being prepared for flight. Their 'mission' was clear, shoot down the plane over a non-populated area and never let it land at Groom Lake.

Aserene – No Paraguay ending! Yuck! Never… No No No!

NK – Magooie! ROFL! Yes, Temir is as dead as a doornail. ;)

LtJgMeg – No problems, I'll bring him back to life only to kill him again, it's much more fun that way isn't it? ;)

Joanoa – I know right! CRUNCH – dead! Loved it! ;)

Cristina – I don't like Mac being too weak or weapy and all of that, its so not her. But, a little weakness, not a problem. Yea, Temir's demise was sweet and fun to write, I am sure everyone was going 'Oh no he isn't!' ;) I wouldn't have let him done that to Mac. She would have ripped his. .. uh. ..you know off. ;)

Harmfan – Hey, it was satisfying for me too. I didn't want Harm to just shoot him, and I didn't want Harm to torture him because that would make him worse than Temir is, I think . .But somehow dying by Harm's hands in such a rough way fit well. Violence rocks sometimes. ;)

Xblue – Yea, well, cliffys work well Chapter 16 will be the last cliffhanger of this story. 

Froggy – You still have nails? Did you put on acrylics? Lee press on nails? ;)

Tina – Oh the eyes are right. . . I can tell you from my clone they change colours depending on his mood. ;) Darker blue/green, sometimes smokey blue/green. . :thud: ;)

Lise – The part when Harm bashed his brain in was just sooo ubber romantic! ;) Their relationship will be dealt in a bit more detail in Story 3.

They will get into some serious convos, visit his folks (who don't know he's alive). And then things will happen, weird things. Explaining it will sound like a soap opera but I'm trying to keep it away from being soap operaish. :)

Part 16 Tomorrow or very very very very very very very late tonight… more than likely tomorrow though cos I gotta get up very very very very very early tomorrow. ;)