AN: Heya! Finally started typing chapter five! Sorry about the delay! And I'm hoping to have the story completed soon, so it'll be done by ::drumroll:: CHRISTMAS!!! Yay! Ok, so here we go.

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"Webb!" Harm suddenly said, turning to look at Mac.

"What about him?" she asked, with a rather cold tone.

"He's not here!" Mac's eyes looked from side to side before returning to his.

"Uh…yeah?" She was still in the dark.

"If he's not here, that means he's not coming with us. He's gonna stay on the train and be caught by terrorists!" Mac's eyes widened and lost their icy edge. She may dislike the guy but she wasn't so cold-hearted as to wish him captured! (Although I may be…::grin:: ) Harm was turning around, going back: Mac looked down and saw their hands still together. She held his tightly and pulled him back, her brows furrowing slightly.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going back to get him. We can't just leave him here!"

"Harm, there's no time! We have to jump! Now!" The NAVY pilot looked back at the door they'd come through, the rushing snow outside through the door in the other direction, and finally at Mac. Her brown eyes reflected what he was feeling; regret that they were leaving a man behind, but anxiousness to get off the train and go home. Closing his eyes, he squeezed her hand slightly and turned back to the open door.

"Let's go." Mac smiled, if you could call it that, and stepped to the edge, teetering at the end of the train.

"Ok. One…two…three!" Their legs bent at the knee and pushed them up, feet losing contact with the train. For a pleasant moment, they were flying, and hung in midair without worry. But in the next second gravity grabbed hold of them and roughly pulled them down onto the cold hard earth, with steel railroad tracks as pillows to land on. Needless to say, it was a painful landing. Groaning, they both got up quickly, winded and bruised but otherwise unhurt. Within the next minute they had retreated to the cover of dense snowy woods surrounding the tracks that cut a path through the mountains. They crawled into a dry bit of brush and hid, listening for any sound that they'd been seen. The rickety chug of the train was fading fast, as was the helicopter assumed over it. Soon silence blanketed the forest, and Harm finally broke the quiet.

"I think we're alone." Mac nodded, still grimacing and nursing the bruises starting to appear and pain her. "Where are we?"

"How the hell should I know?" She said through gritted teeth. Harm looked at her reproachfully, then groaned when he tried to reach for the bag which had been foolishly and haphazardly thrown a few feet away. Cracking an eye, as both of them had been squeezed tightly shut, she smirked. "Yeah." They lay for a few minutes more in silence, holding whichever body part hurt most. Feeling slightly better, Mac pulled out the now crumpled map from her jacket pocket, unfolding it as quietly as possible despite their alleged isolation and seclusion. She held up the white paper and looked around., then closed her eyes, lightly this time, before folding up the paper. Harm turned his head towards her as he lay on his back, making sure that all his limbs and appendages were in proper working order. She rolled off her side onto her hands and knees, Harm following suit, albeit slowly.

"You got a fix on our coordinates? Where's the crossroad?"

"S'over there," she waved a hand in the general direction to their left, "about ten minutes or so, I think. We're supposed to follow it out of the mountains, but we're on our own until we can get to the Rhone River. Hey wait a minute…" As they stood, she opened the map again and smacked it with a small satisfied smile. "I knew it! This path ends about two and a half miles from the Isere River!" Harm raised a brow in question and came to her side.

"That means…?"

"That means we can follow the Isere until it joins the Rhone! And look, Grenoble is right on the river! We'll be able to get a car in about three days! Screw walking for a week." Harm leaned over her shoulder, and despite everything, Mac still found herself noticing his warm tickling breath on her neck that always made her shiver. She willed herself not to shudder in pleasure but couldn't keep her hands from shaking a bit. She prayed in vain he wouldn't notice because Harm's sharp blue eyes noted the involuntary movement. His brows furrowed in concern.

"You ok, Mac?" He looked at her carefully, but she would not meet his eye, just refolded the map and returned it to the pocket of her khaki jacket.

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get going, I want to be well on our way before nightfall." Harm nodded agreement and picked up the pack, shouldering it and starting to trudge through the wooded mountains.

About thirty minutes later, they finally found the road. Apparently, they'd jumped too early, but only by a few minutes in the time and speed the train had been traveling.

"We could've gone back, Mac," Harm said in a low voice. "We still had time."

"I'm sorry! For once can't I make a mistake?"

"I thought you were the perfect clock!"

"Yeah, well thanks to jet-lag, time differences and having to take a slowing down train into account I was off by a few minutes!" The quiet regretful statement that had escaped Harm's lips had turned into a fabulous yelling match as they continued on, without noticing the soldiers up ahead. "Besides, knowing Webb, he probably has a better escape plan for himself other than the one we got." Mac mumbled, mostly to herself, before suddenly stopping and putting a hand over Harm's chest. He started to push past angrily, but he looked up and was met by the business end of a standard issue rifle. The leader of the group yelled indistinct and rapid french, which even Mac had trouble understanding, but Harm got the gist. He tried to speak with a broken german accent, hoping to throw them off.

"Uh…nous sommes hiking, marche. Allons Lyon."(Uh...we are hiking, camping. Going to Lyon.)Mac jabbed him the stomach with her elbow roughly and he bent over as the blow had hit a particularly nasty sore spot. The guards took no chances and violently searched them and the duffel, exclaiming at the two handguns on their persons and a semi-automatic –disassembled but still recognizable nevertheless – in the bag. They seemed disappointed to find nothing else, and the leader looked each of them over carefully. Mac went out on a limb and tried for something that'd help them out.

"Monsieur, parlez-vous anglais?" (Sir, do you speak english?)

"Yes, mademoiselle, or should I say madame?" Mac struggled to hide a blush and immediately put up her platonic Marine façade that she could disappear behind.

"It doesn't matter. May we pass, please?"

"You are armed heavily for touring German hikers."

"A cousin of mine said it is dangerous here; that the animals sometimes are worth the worry."

"Worry enough for this?" He held up the semi-automatic. They shared the sidelong look and decided that silence was a good answer.

"We can take you to Lyon. That way, you won't be needing it." He snapped his fingers and began arranging a ride for them, confiscating the gun simultaneously.

"NO!" Harm said, putting a hand on the captain's arm. "That's not necessary. We'd much prefer to walk. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"I insist." The Frenchman rested a hand on the butt of the pistol on his hip but kept the fake smile plastered on his face. Harm and Mac shared another look, this one more tired, but unfortunately much more familiar. They got silently into the back of a loud and rumbling truck which Mac thought was running over every pothole and rut it could find on the country road; she said as much. Harm flinched and cringed every time the truck bounced, because the jarring ride wasn't helping his bruises any. Sighing, he held onto the pack tightly, checking and rechecking that all their supplies were intact and secure.

"What are you doin', a pre-flight check over there?" Mac decided to attempt at lightening the mood.

"Hey, I just don't want any surprises, like we run out of food, or don't have enough first aid or something," he snapped, closing the bag with a definitive zip.

"Look, I'm sorry alright? I know we shouldn't've left Webb. But if he didn't have a plan B, then he would've come with us." It hadn't really occurred to Harm that Clayton probably had a backup plan, so this knowledge eased his conscience for the time being. "Now can we please concentrate on the task at hand? Like how the hell we get off this truck with no one noticing?" Mac was irritated that they couldn't avoid going to the one place Webb said not to go.

"I suspect we won't be able to, and personally, I don't want to try after the last bumpy landing."

"So we're just going to sit here and let them drive us into the lion's den? This is suicide!"

"We can make it Mac. We've escaped worse."

"Worse?! I don't think it gets much worse than this." She huffed and crossed her arms, leaning against the cloth that served as a wall in the covered bed of the truck. "I guess we're going to Lyon, then?"

"Guess so."

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AN: Soo...I decided this route cause otherwise it was just going to be a long boring time of fighting off animals and weathering mother nature while they hiked and fell and then reached Paris. This way it's MUCH more actiony...I think. ::smirk:: I know what's coming next and yooou don't! ::sing-song teasing voice:: He he he he he he! ::ebil smile:: Anyway. REVIEW, dammit! C'mon, you know you want to. ::wink::