A/N: Hey people! Well, here's your much-anticipated chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Read, review, you know the drill by now.

Special thanks goes out to: joanoa, Radiorox, Bite Beccy, alix33, starryeyes10, SpaceMan546, Wendy Kaye, froggy0139, Jackia, Tina Frank, Lyssa Grace, snosamie6, cbw, Nesabj, Arian04, RoleModel2, Tomcat GM, jaka, mara-rabb, Abigaile, mjag, MichelleLee, CharmedAli, princess mai, dansingwolf, martini1988, squirtbug158, jaggurl, Tinny, Elysabeth, hothing40, jagdreamer, Steelo, Sube, rjm-az, cutieronnie, sarah, jtbwriter, smithknk, beyblade, browneyeez, Lauren, marinejag, jag4eva, and jaglover411. You guys rock!

Well, without further ado . . . tada

Break Out

Aaron Riley slowly shot a glance to his left and then to his right down the hallway before stepping out of the darkness of his room. He was dressed in dark black pants and a navy turtleneck – dressed for darkness. Slowly, he grasped the handle of his door and eased it slowly towards him, shutting it noiselessly. He could feel his heart beating wildly within his chest.

Creeping silently down the hall and keeping to the shadows, he approached the second door to his right. Bending down, Riley inched his ear towards the crack separating the door from the ground. Settling for a few moments, Riley confirmed what he already knew. Propping himself up, he opened the door and entered what would be considered a well-lived-in room.

Clothes were strewn all over the floor and blossoming from the hamper in the corner. The bed's sheets were untidily drawn over the mattress while the pillow still had Harris's head imprint in the center. But Riley ignored all of this as he crossed the room to where the oak dresser stood. Riley opened the front set of drawers and burrowed through the pile of socks tied unmatched inside the drawer and then grimacing as he moved Harris's underwear to the side.

Just as he was about to switch to a different drawer, Riley felt his hand touch something cold and metal. Applauding himself slightly, Riley pulled out a Smith and Wesson hand held revolver and underneath it was a newspaper folded into quarters, tucked discretely near the sock area.

Riley didn't have to read the headline to know what article it was. Clipping the revolver to his belt buckle, Riley grabbed the silver key wrung around the peg on the wall and stalked out of the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him.

Approaching the cell, Riley's hand wavered slightly as his shadow fell across the keyhole. Slowly, sucking in a deep breath, he turned the key in the slot and entered the cell.

Opening the door, he entered the darkened room, unsurprised to find Rabb and Sarah curled up together one side and the other woman – Riley didn't know her name – on the other side of the room.

Riley went over to Rabb and slowly shook his shoulder. He watched as Rabb's eyes slowly opened and the emotions on his face changed from confusion to disbelief. Riley cleared his throat, "Rabb, come with me . . ." he trailed.

Rabb got up, quietly entangling himself from the Colonel, laying her head – which had been resting on his chest – onto the floor as gently as he possible could. He walked over to Riley. "What's wrong?"

Riley through the newspaper to him and Harm caught it swiftly. His eyes scanned the paper, but it was impossibly to make out the print in the darkness. Riley pushed Harm into the hallway where he turned on the dim light and watched as the Commander's expression went from curiosity to fear.

"Where are they?" Harm whispered hoarsely, his hands still clinging numbly to the newspaper.

"Gone," Riley replied quickly. "We need to get moving." He moved to walk away but then stopped as he realized Rabb wasn't following him. Riley turned around and saw a deep look of distrust etched in Harm's features. Riley hung his head; he could have only expected this. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "For not believing you, for what I did to you . . ." Riley's eyes pleaded. "I was wrong. They played me like an idiot. But we're on the same side now."

For a minute, it was hard to tell what was going through Harm's mind but then he relented. "Okay," he said softly, "just give me a minute."

Riley nodded in consent, not having the slightest doubt on what Rabb was about to do.

Harm stood for a minute just looking at Mac. The moonlight fell dimly on her body, kissing her skin and making it look as if she was glowing. Like an angel, Harm thought with the air of a hopeless romantic. A slight breeze and a strand of Mac's hair brushed against her face. Mac fidgeted in her dream and tried to brush it off. Harm chuckled softly to himself and found his hand moving magnetically towards her face and curling the defiant strand behind her ear. The moment his hand touched her face fire erupted within himself.

Harm trailed his finger over Mac's lips and then bent down, his mouth capturing hers. And – aware of it or not - it took about a millisecond for her to react. Perhaps she was dreaming about this because she did not open her eyes. They sat for a moment – silently devouring each other – before Harm broke for air. He looked at her lovingly.

"Sweet dreams," he said as he kissed the top of her forehead. He staggered to his feet and watched as a semi-awake Mac rolled over, trying to get a more comfortable position. He bent over her once again and kissed her on the nose. "I love you," he whispered before he ran off into the night . . .

"It's the White House," Webb declared with savage conviction, slamming his fist on the desk. "It has to be the White House."

"Webb, think logically," I snapped from beside him. "The White House is protected from every angle. Even though Lindsey and Harris have a bomb, there's no way they're going to get in."

It was true and Webb knew it. They had called security; an alert had been put out for Harris who had special clearance in the CIA and a similar one for Lindsey. Both faces were scanned in Interpol, their pictures posted over the news with the 'HAVE YOU SEEN THESE PEOPLE?' message branded across the bottom. Their descriptions had been broadcasted over the radio and still, no luck.

Webb inhaled another cup of coffee and looked at me pleadingly, noting that I too had an empty cup and was closer to the coffee machine. I rolled my eyes and took his cup with me.

"Webb!" the bark ran through the room. Webb quickly untangled his feet from on top of his desk and hurriedly stood as Admiral Chegwidden entered the room, behind him a team of lawyers that included Sturgis and Bud.

"Yes, Admiral?" Webb inquired, his tone light but strained. The glare AJ was giving him could freeze hell over.

"I assumed that when you said my lawyers were going on an investigation they would be coming back!" he hollered. The few people whose eyes weren't already on Webb and the Admiral turned around.

"We're encountering some minor difficulties," Webb replied through gritted teeth. On one hand, I was interested on how this would play out. On the other hand, we really needed to figure out where the bomb was targeted and as much as I hated to admit it – Harm, Mac, and Beth were no longer our top priority.

I stirred some cream into my coffee, pausing as my eyes roamed over today's paper which had been casually left on the counter. Obituaries, new tax passed (damn), new children's park on Young street has been opened, and . . . oh my god.

"Webb!" I hollered, forgetting all about the coffee. "You've got to see this!" I called at the same time another agent came into the office screaming, "We've found them!"

I woke up with a slight tingling on my lips and a wide grin spread across my face. My eyelids fluttered open, taking in the early morning light.

"Nice dream?" a voice asked from behind me. I turned around to see Beth leaning against the wall and . . . with a newspaper?

"The best," I replied, trying to make the smile disappear. I had dreamed – very realistically, mind you – that Harm had kissed me. I could vaguely remember seeing his dim figure shining through the light filtering in from the open door and as distantly as possible remembered him whispering to me that he loved me. In speaking of Harm . . .

"Where's Harm?" I cried, springing up from the floor and glancing one quick frantic glance around the empty-except-for-me-and-Beth cell.

"Gone," Beth replied calmly. "But he did leave us a little something behind." She passed me a folded article out of a newspaper.

PRESIDENT OF UNITED STATES AND SECNAV OF US NAVY WILL MEET FOR PRESENTING OF USS ANGEL

On May 24th at precisely 12 o'clock, the SECNAV of the US Navy and President George W. Bush will meet aboard the deck of the USS Angel for the official opening of the long awaited ship.

The Ceremony of the Opening of the Angel will begin at eleven am and end at one. The Captain will be presented and his crew will be announced along with the President's speech and the SECNAV's.

After the ceremony, the crew and captain will depart from the dock in Norfolk and set sail to join the Seahawk in the Atlantic. It will be expected to return here in another four months. The USS Angel will proudly join the United States Navy for what we hope to be a great many years.

I opened my mouth and closed it several more times. "The bomb . . ." I trailed, grasping the paper in my hands. "It's aimed at the Angle and . . ." there was no need to explain. Beth obviously knew. "We've got to go for help!"

"I expect that's what Harm and Riley are doing right now," Beth sighed. "Harm was gone before I woke up. So was Riley."

"How do you know about Riley?"

Beth took something out of her pocket and waved it in my face. "They were nice enough to leave behind a key."

"Lindsey and Harris?" I questioned cautiously.

"Gone too," Beth replied.

"Then how do you know they didn't all leave together?" I asked quickly, but the other side of my mind doubted it. I had gotten through to Riley – I was dead sure of it.

"Call it a hunch," Beth replied. "And the fact that if Riley hadn't let Harm out, the key wouldn't be here nor would the newspaper."

I looked at her, then at the door, and then back at the key. "So . . . we're free to go?"

Beth nodded and the pulled something else out. "I raided the fridge. There wasn't much but," she grinned, "enough for five peanut butter sandwiches each."

I grinned at her. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

"Move!" I whispered hurriedly, drawing my gun in front of me and keeping my back to the wall. Five men from the FBI scattered to the far wall, each holding their guns at a distance too. I felt Catherine press herself behind me.

Over the radio the Admirals voice broke the silence. "Team one, move on back, team two – back up team one. Team three – into entrance. Team four – back up team three."

Catherine and I were of team three. I turned around to her. "Stay here," I whispered, about to crawl forward but Catherine grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.

"You're kidding." I gave her a hard glare, one which she eagerly returned. "I'm going in," she pressed and shunted past me towards the entrance, keeping her gun level with her shoulders. I swore under my breath and followed her.

All of Team Three stood on either side of the door, guns at the ready. I made eye contact with Sturgis who was on the other side and mouthed, 'One . . .'

There was the light click of bullets being pushed into guns.

'Two . . .'

The restless rustle of all of Team Three as they readied themselves up for what they were sure was to be a struggle.

'Three . . .'

Sturgis and I pushed forward at the same time, the impact of both of our bodies knocking down the door. I fell forward, splinters flying through the air, but Sturgis readily caught me with one arm and literally pulled me back to my feet. The rest of Team Three ran from behind us with their guns outstretched in their arms, hollering, "FBI!"

Complete silence greeted our calls.

We stood their, all frozen in various artistic poses with our guns stretched out in front of us. The leader, Agent Black, shot a glance to one of his junior agents and tilted his head towards the fridge. The agent moved forward and peered into the fridge. "Definitely being used," he confirmed. "Expiration date on the milk isn't for another two weeks."

Agent Black nodded and, again motioning with his head, directed five men down one hallways, another five (himself included) down one corridor, and Catherine, me, Sturgis, Bud, and two other FBIs down the middle.

There was no time for stealth, I figured, as I ran down the hallway with my gun stretched out in front of me. I could hear the clatter of Catherine's heels falling behind me at a quick pace.

And then I heard it. Voices. Two female voices coming from the door on the left. I turned around and motioned the door out to Catherine. She nodded. I backed up and then ran forward, heaving my shoulder against the door at the same time Mac on the other side opened with it at ease.

At first all I saw were stars as I hit the wall and then I could see the blurry shape of Mac bending over me. "Wheerreez 'Arrm?" I drawled out, speech utterly incomprehensible.

"Oh, Clay!" Mac cried. "They've already gone!"

"Whaaat!" I cried, sitting up so fast I blacked out again.

"The Angel," I whispered, awe etched in my voice. Riley and I stood on the side of the road, our thumbs out in a desperate plea for someone to stop. Anyone. Riley and I looked like Hell. I had been wearing the same clothes for the last six days and I was way past the 'Starting-to-smell' point. At least Riley had his selection of clothes – though that didn't stop them from being wrinkled. And we had no money – which pretty much ruled out a taxi.

"The Angel," Riley repeated with a sigh. "Biggest American ship ever made. Holds twice a big a crew as the Patrick Henry." He looked at me. "You ever been on the Patrick Henry?"

I chuckled. "A few times."

He grinned. "The Angel is one hell of a ship. It cost the Navy tons to build her. She's been their project for the last few years." He sobered slightly. "The President and the SECNAV on it."

"We've got to notify the CIA," I replied instantly. "The FBI too. They've got to get all over this."

"Commander," Riley replied and then turned to me, his expression changing. "Uh – Harm – it is nine o'clock, the ceremony starts at eleven. Exactly when do we swing by CIA headquarters in Langley and FBI in Washington in a car we don't have?"

"We'll call," I replied instantly.

"With a phone we don't have?"

"Payphone."

"With change we don't have."

God, the guy was exasperating. I really couldn't see exactly Lindsey and Harris kidnapped him. Throw him in a sewer – maybe. But keep him? Ugh.

"Look," I replied testily. "There's a car coming," I pointed to two headlights shimmering in the distance. "Let's not blow this one." Both Riley and I stood in the middle of the road, our arms out to ensure blockage.

We watched as the car slowed to a halt before us. The driver beeped his horn but I walked over to him, Riley still standing in the middle of the road so the car wouldn't drive off.

"Excuse me, sir," I began wearily. "But this is a matter of National Security and my friend and I," I motioned towards Riley, "really need to get to Norfolk." The driver looks at me as if I'm mad. "The Angel."

"I'm not a freaking taxi service," the driver retorted angrily. "I've got somewhere to be!"

I sighed discontentedly and motioned to Riley. He walked towards the car and from his belt pulled out the revolver. "We need to get to Norfolk. I assume you know where the Angel is being harbored?" The driver nodded. "Good," Riley replied, getting into the front seat and I in the back. "Then step on it."

We literally run out of the house and into the FBI vans. There are about – 20 people? – gathered outside. I see Bud and immediately run up to him, throwing my arms around him. I haven't seen him in weeks.

"Colonel!" he exclaims, looking flabbergasted. "Where's the Commander?"

"No time to explain," I replied quickly, jumping into the can's back seat and buckling my seatbelt. "We've got to get to the Angel."

"The Angel? As in the ship Angel?"

"Just trust me, Bud."

Bud looked at me and squeezed my hand. "With my life, Ma'am."

Rabb and I jumped out of the car as though on fire, I barely having any time to stuff my revolver in my pocket. The angry driver pulled his car out of the way but we took no notice. Already the port was teeming with people. It was like one massive Ciaro Café.

Most were military men and woman but there were hundreds of civilians too. And settling in the water was the large torso of the Angel. Rabb seemed to stand there, looking in awe at it – like an art collector might look at a Michelangelo.

And indeed, it was impressive. Greatly impressive. Its grey walls seemed to shadow the entire port, the waves of the water thumping and splashing against its shell and spraying idly on the dock. Along the side, in clear white letters, it was printed 'USS ANGEL'. The United States Flag flew freely from the top and in the morning light, the colors of the flag looked more pronounced, its fifty stars almost twinkling.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?" I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. Somewhere here, in this port, there was a bomb waiting to explode.

"Beautiful's an understatement, Aaron," Harm replied and then slapped me on the back. "Now come on, we've got a job to do."

We reached the Angel at ten o'clock. That was one hour until the ceremonies started, and two hours until the SECNAV and President boarded the ship to shake hands and officially (press wise) christen the ship. That gave us little more than an hour and a half.

I looked at Catherine who was staring out the window at the Angel, a blank look on her beautiful face. If worse came to worse and the Angel blew, I didn't want Catherine to be anywhere near her.

I felt something growing inside of me . . . protectiveness? I ruled against it. I don't feel – I shouldn't feel – like this. We're two agents – to CIAs – to spooks. Life like that would never work.

"Clay," Catherine said, unbuckling her seatbelt. "We're here."

She jumped out of the car and I turned to my side and saw Mac staring out the window, looking almost longingly into the crowd and I knew exactly who she was looking for. I rested my hand on her shoulder and watched her jump up as though stirred from deep thought.

"We're here," I whispered and she nodded, collecting herself. We both exited the vehicle.

"We'll inform security," piped up Agent Black. "Me," he turned to face his men, "and my team. Don't worry, Webb. We won't disappoint you."

"Wouldn't think of it for a minute," I replied, rolling my eyes internally.

They set out.

Catherine turned to me. "What are we going to do?"

I looked at her. "You and Mac are going to stay in the car. If I radio you to get out," my voice broke, horrible images flooding my mind, "then I want you to turn on the car and drive as fast as you can."

Catherine glared at me. "There's no way I'm going without you."

"There's no way I'm going without Harm," Mac interjected.

I sighed. "There's no way I'm going now if you two come with me."

I glared at both of them. Mac opened her mouth to speak, her features cross but Catherine stopped her. "Fine, Webb. We'll stay in the damn car. But hurry up."

I stared at her suspiciously. "You'll stay?"

"Yes."

There it was that not of defiance. Was she lying? I studied Catherine's features. It was quite possible. It would not be unlike her to do so. I sighed and turned to walk away. And then it came over me.

I turned back to where Catherine was standing – beside the car – and slammed my body towards her, fusing both our mouths together in one heart stopping kiss. At first her body was tense, and then it relented easily, both our hands grappling at each other's faces. Mac stood on the other side of the car, a mixture of emotions on her face – amusement and disgust.

I pulled back for breath from her lips and then kissed her on the nose. "I love you," I said brokenly before disappearing into the thickness of the crowd, leaving one stunned agent behind.

Harris grinned as he looked at the impressive turnout for the unveiling of the Angel. The President would be coming any moment now and the SECNAV wouldn't be far behind. Everything was going as planned.

His hand moved to Lindsey's and he rubbed her fingers softly. "Soon," he mouthed to her. "Soon."

A/N: Well, that wasn't as good a chapter as I thought it would be. I'm sorry. But reviews would be great, anyway. The chapter after this one – I'm afraid – will be the last one. An Epilogue will shortly follow that. I will then begin working on my next story, 'Full Throttle'. I just wanted to say – before the end, that is – that you've all been really great for reading/reviewing.