The Thin Line

by Radiorox

(Sequel to “Fully Engaged” read that first) As Harm and Mac struggle with day to day life, an enemy plans the ultimate revenge. (COMPLETE)

11. What Now?

Part 11 – What Now?

1145 Zulu
Location Unknown
Virginia

"Damnit!" The white sink currently sported little red splatters on it's edge and even some in the very center. On it's side, where one would normally put the soap, sat a bottle of Stolichnaya with it's cap open welcoming whoever wanted to partake. Palmer stood in the bathroom to Mac's room with a needle and thread in his hand. He stared into the mirror and then slid the needle through his skin. "I told you. . ." He grunted as he meticulously worked on sewing up the gash that a certain Marine Lt. Colonel had gifted him with. "To not come in here, to leave the woman alone!"

Nikki paled slightly. So this was another one of the 'tricks' Palmer knew? The art of self-repair? "I'm sorry, Clark. . .I just. . .wanted to know what it was like."

Raising his right brow, and wincing because of the sharp pain, he glanced at his 'girlfriend' though the mirror. Blood was seeping through the wound, down his face and into his eye. "What it was like? What are you talking about?"

"That." She said, pointing a finger towards where Mac's unconscious form was now laying in bed, cuffed to the frame. "I wanted to know what it was like to toy with her. To let her know who was boss." Even as she said the words, Nikki felt herself slipping. When the hell had she become like this? Was she turning into some sort of monster? No, it couldn't be, because Harmon Rabb Junior and Sarah MacKenzie were the two that damned her lover, not the other way around. Still, she couldn't help feel a bit evil, dirty even. And yet, part of her liked what she was becoming because, for those precious moments that she was toying with MacKenzie, it felt good. Power was good. And what was it they said about power? – Absolute power, corrupts absolutely? "You think it will work?"

"Oh yea." Palmer chuckled, he knew it wouldn't be too long before she got in the game. He didn't know what kind of shrink she was before he met her, but at the moment, she was probably the one in the need of some couch time. "With MacKenzie passed out as long as she was, it gave us time to get everything we need." He wiped the blood from his eye, then resumed the sewing with a few muffled courses and swigs of vodka. When he was done, he ripped open a large bandage and placed it to cover the wound. "It'll do." He said, studying himself, thank God he would be in hiding during the next phase of the plan.

Quickly, he cleaned up the basin, grabbing the bottle of vodka. Passing by Nikki, he stopped and gave her a soft, seemingly loving kiss. "Watch and learn." With a wicked grin and a twinkle in his eye, he headed across the room and towards the unconscious Marine. Grabbing the chair Mac was formerly tied to he placed it in front of the bed where he sat. Too bad he wasn't alone, not that he would do anything if he was, but he wanted to admire the Colonel's figure without jealous eyes being cast to him. She was an incredible woman and such a woman was an asset to men like him.

Gently, without waking her, Palmer opened Mac's mouth and poured the clear, alcoholic liquid. It took just four seconds, but soon Mac was choking on the liquid, attempting to sit up, but she couldn't. "ST-OP!" She coughed out, cursing herself for swallowing some of the offending liquid. There was still more in her mouth, one that she tried to spit away, but Palmer shut her mouth, making her swallow. Instantly, it was like being with Frank Coster again the night he'd kidnapped her and forced her to drink vodka so that she could be 'free.'

Tears streamed down her face from the coughing fit and the more she tried to sit up, the more her wrists hurt. Why was that? Getting her bearings, Mac slowly started to realize one little detail, she was laying in a bed, with her wrists bound to the frame. Palmer grinned, he liked Mac, she was quick and spunky, others would have started some meaningless blubber, a way to get the mad man to stop hurting them. But Mac sunk back into her Marine façade, any trace of fear could only be seen if you looked directly into her eyes. "I am sorry, Colonel. . .but you looked like you needed to wet your whistle."

Mac glared at him. "Yep, I needed that. Hopefully I'll now pass out and not have to see your ugly mug again." Again she braced herself for some repercussion, but it didn't come. Damnit, why didn't he show any emotion? It was like the man was a robot. Taking a good look at Palmer, she spied the large bandage and the blood seeping through the middle. "Hmmm. . .Gift from your girlfriend?"

"You're just a laugh a minute, aren't you, Colonel?" He replaced the cap on the bottle and placed it on the table. "Had to stitch myself up if you must know. . . But, I'll be fine."

Shrugging as best as one could with their wrists bound, Mac grimaced. "Damn and here I thought I'd killed you. Better luck next time, huh?"

Palmer just chuckled. He really, really, liked Mac. "You know? This insubordination of yours, a way to have me lose it and show some emotion, maybe let my guard down? It's not working." He sat back on the chair, wishing he could touch her, if only to see what she felt like. Glancing towards Nikki, he found her standing there with an approving grin. "But, I am finding it amusing." He stated, turning back to Mac.

"I thought you were going to untie me." At least, that is what Nikki had said, wasn't it? That if she'd behaved she'd be untied? There probably wasn't a chance in hell that it would happen now, but she had to give it a try. "At least, that was the agreement."

Reaching into his pockets, Palmer fished out a set of keys. "Honey, could you please point the gun at the Colonel." Glancing at Mac he grinned. "This time it is loaded." He worked his time, slowly removing each cuff, reveling in the slight feel of Mac beneath him. If he'd have turned around, he would have seen Nikki Halloren seething. He helped Mac sit up as the small amount of vodka in her system was already starting to make her feel sick. "Now, if you try something and you don't make it out of here, and one of us remains alive, Rabb is dead and you can take that to the bank."

Mac nodded. This was going to be hell on her, especially when freedom was so near. Damn her legs for giving out and damn Palmer for his tricks and that stupid girlfriend of his. Couldn't she see how evil he was? "I'll behave." She promised again, this time meaning to do just that until she found a real way to get out of this mess. "Just, please, I need to use the head." When she was granted permission, Mac literally bolted across the room, coming to her knees in front of the head where she retched up all of the alcohol he'd poured down her throat.

1150 Zulu
Harm's Apartment
North Of Union Station

The smell of coffee was enough to wake anyone out of their slumber and after two pots had been made, it seemed the aroma would never go away. On the sofa sat one Harmon Rabb Junior, his coffee table covered in papers and pictures which he'd studied endlessly through the night. 'I'm taking you home, Commander. I want you to get some rest, that's an order.' Creswell had said once the fax that Webb's intel specialist sent, had reached the JAG Conference table. . .

It was a long list of the people that had visited Palmer during his stay at Leavenworth, but was too late in the evening to start and investigation on them all, so some had to be left for the morning, when Webb could put more of his resources to work. Harm barely noticed that twice he'd nodded off as they all meticulously went over the information.

Sturgis glanced up at Bud, then shifted his gaze over to Harm who looked about to pass out. "Bud, it's very late, you have a wife and kids to go home to." He'd said, in hopes that all of them could head off and get some shut eye. It's not that he didn't want to look for Mac, quite the contrary, but they would be sharper, catch more details if their brains rested.

Bud glanced at Harm and then towards Sturgis. "Sir, I am going to stay here and help out. . ."

"It's an order Commander." Sturgis prompted, then turned his gaze to Creswell who nodded and gave the same treatment to Harm.

The ride home had been odd. Harm and Gordon had never really had much to talk about. Maybe it was the whole Marine/Navy thing? Maybe he was just missing AJ? Whatever it was, it bothered both men and the silence grew so thick it could have been cut with a knife. But, the Marine was the one that truly didn't like awkward silences. Harm, on the other hand, after the last couple of disastrous years with a certain female Lt. Colonel, had actually gotten used to the tension. "Harm, may I call you Harm?" He got an answer in the form of a shrug as the Commander continued to stare out into the city. "I am sorry for yelling at you earlier. I know it couldn't have helped your mental state. And I hate to say this, but you need to treat this like any other case."

"I know, General." Harm responded with a tired and broken voice. "I've been telling myself the same thing."

Creswell nodded. "After hours, you can call me Biff." He chuckled slightly at the look on Harms face. "I know you and the Colonel have been curious about that name since you heard AJ say it. . .but that information is classified."

Harm smiled slightly, a welcomed sight for his CO. Then, just as quickly, it faded and that broken look took form. "Sir, Palmer is. . . A nightmare."

"I read the files. . .Called AJ too. . .And Webb filled us in." As Bud and Harm had headed downstairs, Webb had filled Sturgis and Creswell about just how lethal the psychotic DSD agent was.

'He's Harm's personal nightmare.' Webb said, sighing as he recalled that Harm was in a bigger mess with Palmer just because he'd called him for help. 'I faked my own death and he thought Rabb had information on the mission I was on. He didn't go after Rabb, instead chose to go after his girlfriend at the time. . .' Palmer was supposed to be a 'good guy.' A man hired by the government to protect it's people. He turned, just as several other agents had, into working freelance. Only, Palmer's job wasn't to help anyone but himself and his underground brotherhood of rogue DSD agents.

Probably what pissed Webb off even more, was that the two had been friends once, when they had a joint mission between the DSD and the CIA. It was sad that a man could come to this, to toying with the loved ones of his nemesis, just because. Now, he only hoped they had a chance to nail him for good. And, if Rabb somehow cornered the man, he'd let him kill Palmer once and for good. . .

Sighing, for, what had to be, the billionth time that day, Harm stretched out on the sofa. He turned his head slightly, his nose taking in her sent. It was hard to believe she'd been at his apartment less than forty-eight hours ago and that now, some psycho was holding her somewhere. But, where? That was the problem, the reason why they couldn't just up and go and rescue Mac. Knowing Palmer the way he did, he gauged that the man mustn't be too far away. No, men like Palmer liked to see what their actions did. It wasn't fun to leave when you could stick around and see the destruction.

Harm swallowed down the last bit of coffee, then placed the mug next to a copy of the letter Palmer had delivered. No one knew he'd managed to sneak out copies of everything. It was wrong of him, but, he'd ordered Bud to do it and then ordered him not to say a word. He needed this information, in hopes that he could find something no one else could. No one knew Palmer like he did. Christ, sometimes he could even feel the man's evil radiating.

"Feel?" Wait a moment! wait just one moment! Harm had told Mac once that he always knew where she was. But, was that a joke? Or was that because, back then, they had this habit of telling each other everything? Then again, Mac had found him in the middle of the ocean. Well, maybe not him exactly, but she was damned close. What if he had the same gift? It wasn't unfathomable for people that were really close to sense when the other was in trouble. And he had sensed something yesterday morning, hadn't he? "Yea, I did."

Standing quickly, he rushed across the apartment and to his desk. There, in the bottom, after pulling up books and his father's tapes, was a book of USA road maps that was, at least, a good ten years old. He didn't know why he kept it, in fact, just a year ago, when he was cleaning up his apartment, he placed it in the garbage, but wound up pulling it out again. Sitting in his chair, he thumbed through the pages, using paperclips to mark Virginia, Maryland and Washington DC. "You're here. I know you are."

Harm ran his hand over the map of Maryland, closing his eyes as he tried to concentrate on Mac. "C'mon MacKenzie, show me." Feeling nothing, not that he knew what he was supposed to be feeling anyway, but, feeling nothing, he moved onto DC. "Mac, this thing of yours has to be a two way street, right?"

But, again, there was nothing. He flipped to Virginia and slowly ran his hand over the map, stopping just where Falls Church would be. "Mac, please, I know you're here. You have to be near by. . .I can feel it. . . I think." But, it was very difficult to make a non-believer believe. Sure, he'd had his metaphysical moments, but, he was still a non-believer. And when a non-believer failed at an endeavourer such as this, it made him believe even less. "Damnit!" He tossed the road map across the room. "God, what did I ever do to you? Why the hell have you put us through this?" He'd been through hell and back, or so he thought. He'd survived a war, numerous plane accidents, psychotic poachers, terrorists and even the rogue DSD agent. But this feeling he had inside, was probably the thing that would kill him.

Slamming his fist into the desk, he stood up and mechanically walked his way to the coffee pot. "Damnit, I should have never fallen for her." He cursed himself for saying that out loud. It wasn't like he could will himself to stop feeling for her, God knows he tried in the past. But, this was something he'd never experienced before, though he swore he'd never be the same since Diane's death. This, was worse. When had he opened up his heart so much to Mac that not being with her was, literally, killing him? He'd liked it, their closeness, the fact that he could now touch her freely and talk to her about things he was afraid to mention before. But, it never occurred to him what would happen if she were gone.

Harm filled up another mug of coffee and downed the liquid which was, now, starting to upset his stomach. He'd barely realized he'd consumed so much, but he'd needed the pick me up, staying up the whole night without caffeine wasn't a good idea. He knew he needed to catch at lest a few hours of sleep, else the General would be all over him when he went in. But, he really didn't care.

1320 Zulu
Location Unknown
Virginia

Mac had behaved, and it's not that she wanted to, but she had to, for her sake and for Harm's. It had been, roughly twenty minutes since Palmer and the woman had left after what, had to be, the oddest thing she'd ever gone through. "What the hell did he want to know all that for?" She asked herself, settling down on the bed with her hands under her head. "Hell, reporters haven't even asked me that much." It was surreal, and though she didn't want to answer, Palmer had left that threat, or better yet, 'promise' over her head – Harm would be hurt if she didn't comply. . .

Sitting at the end of the bed, with her legs tucked under her, Indian style, Mac definitely stared at the pair. "Prove it." She tested Palmer, wanting to know just what he had planned for the man she loved. From a briefcase that she hadn't even noticed, Palmer produced some sort of LCD screen with several gadgets and gizmos attached to it. He pulled up the thin, silver antenna and flicked some button. Within seconds, live video feed from Harm's apartment was playing over the large screen which was divided into four. The upper left shot was of the living room, the upper right of the kitchen. The lower left of his bedroom and the lower right of the bathroom.

"Let's just see what Harmy was doing this morning, shall we?" He pushed a button and the feed started to rewind itself. Mac caught her breath as, in reverse, she could see Harm getting ready for the day. He stopped it, right around the time when Harm sat on the sofa with a look that clearly stated his world was starting to fall apart. "He looks great, doesn't he?"

Mac looked away from the screen, "You bastard. . . Can't you just run away? Leave him alone?"

Palmer shook his head. "No." She took a quick peak at the screen again, watching as Harm headed into the kitchen to refill his mug of coffee. It was then that Palmer pressed another button to digitally enhance the image and zoom it in. "You know? It's better with sound." Clicking another button, in the most inopportune moment, Harm's voice came over the built in speaker. "Damnit, I should have never fallen for her." That had Palmer laughing and with good reason, this was just working out to perfection. "Well, would you hear that? I guess the flyboy don't love you anymore, Colonel."

Nikki, who was seated just slightly behind her boyfriend, could do nothing more than grin. He was perfect, knew how to manipulate people. And she would learn from him, hone her skills and help him with all of his enemies. "Sad isn't it, Colonel?" Her fake condolences is what really angered Mac the most.

"If it wasn't because of these. . .circumstances. . ." Mac trailed off as she leveled her gaze on Palmer and then shifted to Nikki. "I think you know what I am capable of." Nothing was worse than a pissed off Marine. Then again a pissed off, female Marine trying to protect the man that she loved was the equivalent of letting out a wild, caged animal. "If I get out of here, God save you, because wherever you go, I will hunt you down."

"Now, now, now, Sarah. . . I haven't done anything to deserve such threats." He lowered the antenna and slammed the briefcase shut. "You're unharmed. You're boyfriend is unharmed and, all we need is a little cooperation so that we can keep things that way." Leaning towards her he placed a hand on her cheek. "Sarah, if things go right, we might even let you go."

Mac's cheek literally burned the moment he touched her. And it wasn't a 'good' type of burning, it was more like being touched by some sort of, flesh eating, chemical. She angrily brushed his hand away. "Doesn't your girlfriend give you enough attention?"

"Oh, I give him plenty!" Nikki spat, standing up in order to engage the Marine who managed, even in an awkward sitting position, to come to some sort of fighting 'stance.'

Palmer just shook his head in amusement, sticking his hand out to prevent Nikki from falling into the hands of one pissed off Marine. "Not a good idea, baby." With a sigh, he settled back into his routine. He really had to stop Nikki from joining him when he was out to visit MacKenzie, the woman seemed to only get in the way. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a small tape recorder which he placed on the bed, just in front of Mac. "I don't want to threaten you periodically, so I'll do so now. . . Either you answer, or he's dead before the end of the day. . .Understood?"

The blood in her veins was boiling, turning to fire beneath her skin that she was actually going to let him do whatever he was planning on doing. But, she had to, for Harm's sake. "Yes, I understand." Mac said through clenched teeth, willing herself not to cry from the anger she felt which mixed with the raw emotion of losing Harm just when they'd started to figure things out. But, she wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

"Good. . .Now, let's begin." He pressed the small record button then settled into the chair with a grin that showed how pleasurable this was going to be for him. "When exactly did you and Harmy become. . .well. . .You and Harmy?"

Mac raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What kind of question is that?"

"Just answer it, Colonel." Nikki pressed, as, she too, sat comfortably with a rather amused grin.

"In July, it was a. . .case." She offered, not really knowing why she wanted to keep secret that it wasn't just a 'case' but rather a full blown, dangerous-as-hell, mission. "A case we were on. . .things got rough."

"And you two got together." Palmer offered. Isn't that the way it usually worked with people like Rabb and MacKenzie? It took some sort of, life changing, harrowing experience for them to finally get together? "What do you call him and what does he call you in. . .private?"

Okay, now this was really starting to get weird. Looking over at the briefcase that held the surveillance equipment, she closed her eyes. "I usually call him flyboy. . .he really doesn't have any terms for me. . . occasionally, he'll call me Sarah."

Nikki rolled her eyes. "How boring." When both Palmer and Mac glared at her she raised her hands up in surrender. "Sorry!"

Palmer sighed, the woman could sometimes act like a two year old. "Anyway, when did you first meet? And where?"

. . .The questions had continued to be odd and personal. It was as if he was keeping score as to when things occurred in hers and Harm's private life. Mac had answered everything, keeping most details to herself. And only once did they have to play the "I'll kill your boyfriend" card, when she refused to answer questions about their sexual relationship.

When it was all said and done, she was exhausted and Palmer had left her with the surveillance kit along with a minidisk which he said provided a lot of interesting information. She'd been leery to open the case and pop the disk in because, she knew, the moment she gave in, he'd have even more of a hold on her. Still, curiosity has a way of obliterating the sense of what you should and shouldn't do. For the life of her, she didn't know how she managed to get across the room and seated at the table in front of the briefcase. Or, how her fingers managed to open it and pop in the disk. But, when it was finally up and running, there were, again, the four screens, this time it was in her apartment. The date on the corner read – September 10, 2005, the day she and Harm had gone over to the Roberts' residence. She remembered that, after the fun and excitement of the day, Harm and Mac had started their own sort of 'fun' in her bedroom. It has started as a tickle fight, then it took on a life of its own. It was also, the last time they'd intimately been together and there, in the lower right-hand screen was an image of her and Harm making love.

Biting her lower lip didn't stop the sob from escaping and wrapping her arms around herself didn't stop the chills. Palmer had been watching them and God only knew for how long. "You bastard." That meant that he knew everything, saw everything, like their fight just a couple days prior. Mac ran her hands over her arms, trying to warm herself from the cold, nasty feeling of knowing he'd watched them.

Then, just as she had seen enough, the images fast forwarded. She and Harm seemed to be asleep and that's when a person, dressed all in black, crept into the bedroom. He stood there, watching as the lovers lay together, sleeping. Then they turned towards the camera and smiled. It was Palmer. "You sick. . .son of a bitch!" And that was all that she could stand. Mac grabbed the case intent on smashing it into the wall as many time as it took until the whole thing was obliterated. As she lifted the case over her head, she got one thought – with the kit she'd be able to keep an eye on him occasionally. "Damnit." Maybe this is exactly what Palmer wanted? For her to either keep the case or beg him for another one after she destroyed this one? Or for her to know Harm was alright in order to keep her complying with his wishes. "Damnit."

Gingerly, she placed the briefcase back on the table and stepped away slowly as if it were a ticking time bomb. That was when she spotted the bottle of vodka that Palmer had left. "I have to get out of here." She whispered then stood and made her way into the bathroom. There had to be something she could use for escape. Glancing around, she noticed that the shower curtain rod was now, officially missing. "Well, there goes that idea." She said with a sigh, then turned to look at the basin. On the floor, between the basin cabinet and the head, was a small, travel sized, sewing kit. "Hmmm, this might be useable." Squatting down, she palmed the small kit and slipped it into her jean pockets. While down there, she opened the cabinet and rummaged through it, only able to find toiletries and towels. Standing, she glanced at the toothpaste and the brush that was left for her. "Well, if I were MacGyver, I am sure that with the sewing kit and toothpaste I'd be out of here in a jiffy." With a shrug, she turned off the bathroom light and headed into the main area of her confines. "Hell, I never liked MacGyver anyway."

With a defeated sigh, she walked towards the bed and sat down. "What now?" She wondered as her internal clock started ticking the minutes away, yet, it felt like hours. So, indeed, the question was – What now?