Erm, well, okay, it got longer. Maybe a chapter two or more. No I am not purposely trying to hit 200 pages. . .It might end around 180ish or something. And yes, then an epilouge. :)A nice one, with a bow on it. . . .Well, no bows, but a nice one, maybe with a beach in it. ;)

Enjoy!

Jackie

Part 20 – Escape

1840 Zulu
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

"What the hell are they doing here?" Webb asked loudly, glaring at the men that were now in Mac's place. He'd stepped outside for a moment, headed downstairs to privately call Catherine and let her know of the situation. She seemed earnestly concerned with Harm and Mac's wellbeing and understood that he needed to help out. Then, he patched in a call to NCIS; Gibbs was heading over with his team.

Annoyed, Bud turned to glare at Webb, shaking his head at how the man ended up stuck in the middle of all these major happenings with Harm and Mac. "Mr. Webb, the Colonel and the Commander are our friends, close friends. . .I am not going to let you screw with their lives again."

AJ and Sturgis both chuckled at Bud's bravado. The former SEAL found it even more amusing, especially after he'd seen Bud, literally, grow up before his eyes. "Webb, what the hell are you doing here anyway?"

"I came to speak to Rabb." Defeated, he leaned up against the wall. "He attacked me the other night."

The three men standing before him couldn't help the satisfied smirks, no matter how much Webb supposedly 'helped' non of them could forgive the man for his past disasters and the fact that Harm and Mac seemed to be in the center of the downfall. It was difficult for AJ to respond without chuckling, but he tried anyway. "Why did he attack you?"

Webb shrugged. "How in the hell would I know?. . .He just did and I came to find out why. . .and I found this." He waved his hand over the wreckage, frowning slightly. What the hell had happened? "The man has been unstable for a while, AJ. I wouldn't be surprised if they got into some sort of fight and he hurt Mac."

"You son of a bitch!" Bud was, normally, the calm one of the bunch. He could actually count, with just a couple of fingers the times that he'd attacked someone. It surprised his friends to see Bud wind up and then strike, landing a perfect blow to Webb's face. As he went to launch himself at the agent again, Sturgis pulled him back. "Harm would never hurt Mac, never! You're just upset that, in the end, she went to him not you."

"Easy, Bud." Sturgis kept a hold on the younger man, keeping tabs on not shifting him around too much and harm his prosthetic leg.

Gibbs and Kate walked at this time, both catching the tail end of the punch, glancing between the men with slight amusement. Neither of them liked Webb, who could blame them? "You gentlemen need me to bring out the measuring stick?" Kate said with a grin, stepping in to greet AJ and the two JAG officers. Webb, she semi-ignored. In fact, no one helped him off the floor.

"What happened?" Taking a scan of Mac's apartment, the part that worried Gibbs the most was the blood where the coffee table once was. "Kate get a sample of that blood."

Webb, who finally managed to get to his feet, spoke up. "I got here first and found this place a wreck."

Immediately, Gibbs went into investigator mode. "Was the door open?"

"Uh." Woops, perhaps it wasn't the best thing to be caught doing a little B and E, even if it was with good intentions. Unfortunately for Webb, his intentions were hardly ever that good. In a way, the reason why he'd arrived at Mac's apartment was to start a little battle with Rabb. Yes, he was happy that him and Catherine had some understanding, but, that didn't mean he really liked Harm and Mac being together. In fact, that evening, as he lay silently in bed, contemplating what the hell had made Harm attack him, he realized that Mac needed someone better. "No. . .it wasn't."

"You picked the lock?" Kate said, slightly exasperated. "Do you know something Webb? Something we should know?"

"No, look. . Rabb and I had an. . .altercation . . .the other night and I came by to see what it was about." It sounded silly, stupid, in fact, he noticed that it sounded as if he was responsible for this mess. "I knocked, no one would open, so I picked the lock and walked in to find this. . .Roberts walked in a few minutes later."

After collecting the blood, Kate nodded towards Gibbs. "I'll have our crew check it out, we should have some sort of ID in less than an hour if we expedite it."

"Do it." Gibbs said, then turned towards Webb and the others. "We need to search this place, slowly, carefully, if you find something, tag it and bag it. . .Kate, bring up the box of gloves we have in the car and the evidence bags." Turning back towards the remnants of the coffee table, Gibbs frowned. Palmer was involved in this, he could feel it. "Damnit. . .the guy is good." He said under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

1852 Zulu
Arlington, Virginia

Nichole Halloren was pissed. Actually, a little more than just pissed, she was seething. "What the hell have you done to my apartment?" Funny how, when half of a couple screws up, the other tends to become proprietary. Then again, when your other half turns your formerly, impeccably clean apartment into the control center for NASA, you just might get irked yourself. "What is all of this crap?" There were eight inch screens, at least two dozen of them showing different images – black and white, color and eve thermal images.

Some of the images were of Harm's empty apartment, the others of Mac's, now buzzing, apartment and the rest were of the foundry where Harm and Mac were captive. There weren't too many cameras inside the foundry, the bad state of the building had made it pointless for Palmer to waste money on several, unnecessary cameras. Besides, even if someone tried to rescue Mac, the door to her cell was impermeable.

Sheepishly, Palmer grinned up at Halloren. "Babe, I needed a base of operation. . .You didn't want me around Colonel MacKenzie all the time did you?" He knew talking about Mac would hit a raw emotion, the woman was utterly jealous of the Marine. "At least here, I can see what she is up to and not be there." Standing, he motioned for Nikki to sit on his 'command' chair and she did so with a slight bit of awe. "I can see what every one is doing. . .it's perfect."

Yea, but she still wasn't too happy about it. "Not to burst your bubble, darling." She said with a sarcastic tone. "What the hell are you going to do about Harm and the Colonel?"

Ah, see, that was the problem. Palmer wasn't sure, at all. He never really planned for Harm to figure it all out. Stupid not to have a plan B, but when you've burned so much money on creating the perfect imposter, you don't really plan ahead, well, not that far ahead. He still had money, enough to get out of the country and start anew somewhere nice and tropical. Thing is, could he just 'retire' and live that whole bohemian lifestyle his former colleagues gave into? Well, he certainly could start some sort of business abroad, make a decent, legal living. He would, of course, take Nikki with him. She was an attractive woman, decent in bed and though eh didn't harbor any real feelings for the woman, she could be entertaining. If anything, he could always get rid of her, them being foreigners in a foreign country allowed for an anonymity if he needed to stick her six feet under.

Still, it bothered him to leave Harm and Mac to die in their little confines. Not because he felt bad about it, Palmer could care less if they lived or died, but because he wouldn't get to see it. And that was unacceptable. "We have enough money to go anywhere we want. . .No one will find either of them, I haven't left a trace."

"You're going to leave them to die?" Her voice carried loudly through the apartment and out of anger for the current situation, he raise his hand to strike her, stopping only a few inches before making contact.

"No so loud, do you want all of Arlington to know what we've been up to?"

Why was she suddenly feeling this tug at her conscience? Maybe it was the slight passing of rage in her lovers eyes? Maybe it was the knowledge that she was partaking crimes like those committed by the prisoners she used psychoanalyze in Leavenworth? All in all, she had to admit that Harmon Rabb, was a good man. He'd stuck by her, even as she was faked all of these horrible things. Most men, she knew, would have just run the other way, but he stuck it out because he loved Mac. A man that loved that way couldn't be all bad, could he?

Her mind traveled back in time, backwards to her relationship with Clark Palmer. She'd fallen for him hard. She loved to hear him talk with such elegance and professionalism. She'd loved the way he seemed to know how to heal her inner demons. She loved his scheming mind and it's intuition. But as her memories moved closer to the present, she realized one thing, the man she fell for, was not the same man anymore. That man wouldn't have made an attempt to hit her. "Don't you ever raise your hand at me again, Clark, you hear me?"

Palmer scowled at her, maybe his ideas of taking her with him were bad? If he wanted women, he could surely get some by just flashing some money around. He stood up, grabbed her by the arm and literally flung Nikki's body across the room. She careened against a chair and before she could stop herself, Nikki stumbled. For Palmer, it couldn't have gotten any better, it was one less person he needed to be troubled with. He grinned happily as her forehead made contact with the corner of the coffee table. A second later the woman lay on the ground, unconscious. Yes, it was definitely better to do things without a woman around. Now all he had to do was make sure Rabb and MacKenzie never saw the light of day again.

1934 Zulu
Location Unknown
Virginia

Warmth, it seemed like forever since he'd woken up with this total feeling of warmth. Sighing, he didn't want to wake up, to find out that his reunion with Mac, albeit under an extreme circumstance, was all a dream. Taking a chance he propped one eye open only to find that he'd been curled up with a pillow not a warm body. Sighing, he went to turn over only feel a sharp pain on the side she'd stitched up. He breathed slowly, allowing for the pain to dull as he sat up in bed.

Faintly, he could hear a scratch and cracking sound coming from his right. What the hell was that? "Mac?"

Her hands were raw again, even though she'd been using her socks to shield her hands. She could feel them painfully peeling under the fabric and one of them had started to bleed. Mac ignored the pain, working hard on removing more pieces of wall, making that gap even larger. The rain had weakened some of the wall and it was easier to remove now, thank God. "Mac?" Hearing her name, she crawled to the door and peaked out to find Harm sitting up in bed. "What are you doing?"

Mac shook her head and pointed up towards where the camera was. Thankfully, he understood and sneakily glanced up at the camera which was now panning towards the door to the bathroom. "While the camera pans this way, quickly make a bundle on the bed, make it look like we're both laying there." She whispered. "Then walk forward and close to the door, you'll be out of its sight."

Harm nodded and settled himself back in bed, wrapping his arm around the pillow and blankets, in a way that made it seem he was wrapping his arms around a person. As soon as the camera panned, he worked quickly on making a bundle, then headed as Mac told him, missing the camera's sights completely. Slowly, he stepped into the bathroom and glanced down at Mac who was sitting on the filthy ground, her hands covered in socks one of them bearing a red mark that was seeping through. "Mac? Your hand." He sat on the edge of the tub and took her hand in his. Taking off the sock he examined it, frowning slightly at the ugly gash on her hand. "It's infected." He said, frowning at the pus that was starting to bubble up. With a frown, he instinctively dove under the cabinet pulling out the first aid kit. He found a tiny bottle of hydrogen peroxide which he poured over the gash. Next, he put the healing ointment and a bandage. "There." He said, giving her palm of her hand a soft kiss.

It was then, as he started waking fully, that he noticed what she had been doing. His eyes widened slightly at the hole adjacent to the head. All Mac could do was chuckle. "I've been a little busy." She opened her other hand to show him the 'tool' she'd been using and grinned. "Not bad considering what I had to work with?"

"Jesus, Mac." He walked to the hole, finding the water that was seeping in from the rain outside. Studying it, he found mold and mildew, also a crack that seemed to run upwards, disappearing under the tiles. "Let me give something a try, move a sec." He pushed her out of the way, sat down and angled his booted foot just above the hole. Grinding his teeth against the pain from his side, he gave the wall a swift kick, noting that some more debris, another rather large chunk did fall. In fact, they could now see to the room next door. Coming to his knees, he looked through the hole to find an empty office with broken windows and a leaking roof.

"What do you see?" She asked, excited that something was finally working. Maybe that's all it took? For the two of them to work together?

Harm turned to her and grinned. "It's an empty office." He moved away, allowing her to look through for her self. On the floor, he found a box of matches, which he palmed and stared at. Ideas were already going in circles. "Do these work?"

Mac stood, stared at the box and sighed. That was a good question. "Some did, many didn't. . .that was the last one left." She watched him, raising an eyebrow in question, almost hearing the wheels turning in his head. "What are you thinking?"

Perhaps the only good thing about him not being locked up like Mac, was that he could give a fresh opinion on the situation. "If we stuff some cloth in the vodka bottle, then light the end, we have an instant grenade." He pointed out, then chewed on his lower lip while looking at Mac. With a sigh, he turned towards the wall, there was no telling if the 'instant grenade' would work or not. If it did, okay, so they had a way to move into another room. If it didn't and the flames spread, they were royally screwed.

"We can't use it against the wall. . .I don't think a place this big would just give into a little flame." She'd thought about using the vodka before as well, the idea died when she had concerns of burning to death, something she didn't want to ever experience. "It is, however, the only weapon we have."

Harm nodded, agreeing with her assessment. "We need to use something to break through though. . .that . . .uh. . .utensil?" He supplied, not sure what to call what she'd been using as a tool. "It's about to die."

Mac sighed, "Actually, I think it died a few days ago. . .I keep resurrecting it." She chuckled despite herself then sat on top of the toilet seat cover. A silly grin spread on Harm's face as he on the floor glancing up at her. "What?" She said with a raised brow, looking around, trying to spot what he was looking at. "What is it?"

"I have an idea." He moved himself next to the toilet, trying to come up with some way to prop up the caps that covered the bolts on the floor. Wordlessly, he took the spoon from Mac, using it to successfully prop them open to reveal a set of badly rusted bolt. "Damnit, I'd have hoped they would be in better condition." He fretted then stared up at Mac who had taken off on of the socks from her hand and passed it to him. Grinning, it amused him to see how in sync they were, especially after spending all of this time apart. He took her hand in his, kissed the back of it then smiled. "Thank you." With a sigh, he placed the sock on his hand, then positioned himself in a way that he could get some leverage into turning the nut that held the bolt in place. Nothing happened. "Damnit!"

"Harm, if they are that badly rusted, maybe we can just break it off?" She pushed herself slightly over him, reaching for the valve to shut off the water. Then, she flushed the toilet, cleaning it of any water that would have remained in the tank or the bowl. Mac moved to one side and Harm held to the other. "Okay on three. . .two. . . one!" With a hard yank, the porcelain broke around the bolts, and the toilet came free.

Harm helped Mac up, moving her slightly away from the opening that she'd dug. "Stand back." He picked it up, grunting slightly from both pain and pressure as he moved it into the bathtub. "There, now it's out of our way." He didn't know how much time they had, or weather or not Palmer would show up, but they had to try. That was, after all, one of the main objectives of a POW. With a plop, he settled himself down in front of the hole, wrapping his hands around the material within, with the hopes of pulling more of it loose. Miraculously, he succeeded, but it still wasn't enough to fit either of them. "Damnit, we need something we can use to hack at it. . . that spoon isn't cutting it anymore." He thought briefly about trying to toss the toilet at the wall, but knew that the hard surface would just crack the porcelain into pieces. There had to be another way that wouldn't hinder more than help them.

Snapping her fingers, Mac moved quickly to the door. "I have an idea." She waited for the camera to pan, then quickly dashed across the room, took one of the metal chairs and made it back into the bathroom. "We don't need a massive hole, just enough for us to squeeze through." She held up a hand and motioned for Harm to move out of the way. Once he did, she lunged at the hole with everything she had, hitting it right on the side with enough force to both damage the chair and break off another chunk. Gritting her teeth she made another hit, then another and another before her arms were shaking from the friction. "Did it work?"

Harm studied the hole, it wasn't a massive improvement, but what she had done was loosen a cinderblock that was already worse for ware. "Yea, I think it did." He took what was left of the spoon and hacked through some of the 'filling' which made one block hold onto another. To his surprise, it came away easily, with a minimal amount of force. "Okay, let try kicking it again." He angled his foot, this time with better precision and, using the heel of his boot, made contact. The blow hurt his knee, he could feel a pain jar up through his leg, but it also unfastened the cinderblock, now leaving a hole big enough for each of them to fit through. "Ladies first." He offered with a grunt as he came to his feet.

"Harm." Mac sat him on the edge of the tub, then used her hands to gauge if he was injured or not. She found he would wince slightly when she made it to his knee. "How bad does it hurt?"

"Not that bad, it'll pass. . .we have to get going, Mac." It was no time for her to argue with him, so he stood up quickly, successfully coming to his feet. "I'll be fine." He looked her in the eye with as much sincerity as possible. Yes, he would be fine, but he also bit back a groan as he felt something wet and warm leaking down his side. He knew he'd opened up the stitching that she'd done. Mac nodded, making a mental note to watch his every move. She scooted herself through the hole first, pausing slightly to make sure they were alone.

To the left side, she found a series of windows, some broken, some not. From up above, there was a horrible amount of seeping going on, so much that it left a yellow mark, branding the ceiling for life. Harm passed over the vodka bottle, and then, carefully slide himself through. The fit was a bit tighter for him, but with a tug from Mac he was on the other side. Steadily he came to his feet, staring around. "Where the hell are we?"

Mac shrugged. "I don't know, but the first time I escaped I got a decent look at the place, it was like some sort of foundry." She whispered, catching his attention.

"Foundry?"

"Yea, why?"

Harm's breath caught in his throat. He'd been there before, in fact, he was so close to climbing the steps and walking to this metal door. The gypsy woman was right, all he had to do was follow his heart. "I was here. . .I knew you were here, I could feel it. . ."

"What do you mean you were here?"

"Something led me here, Mac. . .I stood, ready to climb up here to find you. . .I felt you. . ."

Mac nodded. "Explain that later." Tentatively, she headed towards the door of the leaking office and pressed herself up against the wall. She peaked out slightly, noting that they were on the upper floor and all around them was that catwalk. "How far are we from civilization?" She asked, turning to Harm slightly.

He wasn't looking too good, she noticed. In fact, he was pale and getting worse by the minute. Still, Harm carried himself with strength and confidence, something that made her try harder. "Not too far away. . . on foot, once we get out of these grounds, I'd say we're about a twenty minute walk before we hit a residential area." Mac nodded, fifteen minutes. She wasn't sure if they had that much time, but it was worth a shot, they had to make it out this time.