Pentagon
Three weeks later
June 2002
Harm plopped his briefcase on the desk. Sitting heavily in his chair, he rubbed his tired eyes. The flight from CENTCOM wasn't a long one, but the meetings the last couple of days had left him exhausted.
Things in Afghanistan were not moving along at the pace the military had originally hoped for. The incident of Al-Qaeda uprisings seemed to be escalating, not decreasing, and the growing accounts of collateral damage were not looking good.
Sifting through the stack of messages on his desk, Harm was startled to come across one from the SecNav's office. He was even more startled to discover his presence was required at a meeting this afternoon, at, of all places, JAG HQ.
JAG HQ
1430 hours
Conference Room
"As you already know, Mustafa Atef's untimely death has put this country in a precarious position with his brother Kabir's whereabouts and intentions still unknown. We do however believe he is in league with Russian naval extremists." The SecNav took a long sip of water, his eyes scanning past AJ and Mac, settling on Harm.
"It's my understanding you were present for last night's blunder in the search for Kabir?" he huffed.
"Yes, sir. I was at CENTCOM when the news came across that the wrong truck had been targeted, killing what appeared to be a local family instead of Kabir," Harm contributed.
"That's exactly why I'm creating a new 'think tank'," the SecNav told AJ. "JAG will take point on this." He turned to Harm, "COMNAVAIR wants someone from their staff on this. You're it Rabb." Turning back to Chegwidden, he continued. "I need you to tell me where the Navy is vulnerable to Kabir, and then show me how to stop him. I want Rabb and MacKenzie in Afghanistan right away."
"Aye, sir," the three voices echoed.
"Officially you'll be representing your designated offices on the investigation into this recent mishap and the civilian casualties. Unofficially, you're to find out what Kabir is up to."
"Why not be open and above board, sir?" Mac asked casually.
"The Navy and CIA don't play open and above well, Colonel. They don't trust each other."
"Sir, two senior married officers on the same investigation is going to raise flags," Harm volunteered.
The SecNav stood up rather gruffly. "I trust you can lower them, Commander. Good luck."
In a split second, the door swung shut behind the SecNav, whisking the odd air of tension that had hung in the room out the door with him.
"It's none of my business, but are you two going to be okay with this?" AJ crossed his arms.
"Yes, sir." Neither hesitated.
"Very well. Just be careful." AJ nodded his head at what had once been his best team of investigators, and left for his office. He had a think tank to put together.
Base Camp
Somewhere in
Afghanistan
As Mac lay back, the evening chill only made her miss her husband sleeping beside her all the more. So far no one had dared to question their status on this mission. Of course, it probably helped that she had kept her maiden name for military purposes, but she'd only be fooling herself if she believed there was anyone at camp who didn't know she and Harm were married.
Maintaining the strictest of protocol had come easily the last several days. It was the long nights that were the most difficult, knowing Harm was so close yet not accessible. Add the knowledge that a precious bundle of joy was dependent on her at home, and the thought of going out in a blaze of glory like Butch and Sundance, regardless of how noble the cause at stake was, just didn't seem like such an exhilarating idea anymore.
There were moments when everything seemed to be re-living itself identically to the way it had before. When Mac and Harm spoke with Gunny about Fareesa, she was surprised to hear the lilt in his voice. She had expected his relationship with Renee to have affected the current future, but the dialogue was almost exactly the same.
"And for the record, sir, Fareesa would never betray me," Gunny announced in a huff.
"Yup, he's in love with her," Mac sighed in Harm's direction. "I thought he was all hot and heavy with the Video Princess."
"Video Princess?" Harm's face contorted curiously.
"You know, the blonde with the ruffles." Mac started walking towards the humvee.
"I didn't think you knew her that well." Harm couldn't quite make out why Mac seemed so negative about someone she hardly knew.
"I don't. Do you know what happened?"
"Last I heard, it had something to do with a mortician. As far as Gunny was concerned, the relationship was all in good fun, but not the permanent kind that the blonde wanted."
Mac swallowed the smile of satisfaction she felt at Harm's failure to even remember Renee's name. "Well, I suppose at least this way she gets a discount on makeup."
"MAC." What had gotten into her?
"Come on, we've got more villagers to question."
And so the rest of the trip continued as she remembered. Right down to the little chat about how Afghanistan was 'man' country and the only problem would be that it was run by men. And of course, joking over would she and Harm run out of money paying tolls before the new government took hold.
To her dismay, as with the prison camp not long ago, fate had to rear its ugly head. She made every effort to avoid the goats and the antipersonnel mines. She even thought she'd succeeded when she cleared the original location of the mine mishap, but there was something about this incident that fate would not let her escape. Just a few feet down the road from the original explosion, the humvee veered off, the tires exploding beneath them, sending Harm flying into yet another mine field.
Mac felt the same horror she had the first time she lived through it, only this time she had long ago admitted the man on the ground was the man she loved, and now they had a child at home waiting for his mom and dad to come home. Being in a different spot from the original blast, she wasn't even sure she could trust the outcome. What was it fate had in mind for her? What was she supposed to understand about choices and opportunities?
"Harm, don't move!" Mac stared at his still form in horror. Please God, no. "You're in a mine field; those were antipersonnel mines we just went through."
Her words tumbled forth. Somewhere in the back of her mind, most of them sounded familiar, but all she could think about was being in the moment, not the moment that had been. The fresh memories sent shivers down her spine.
"Great." Harm shook his head lightly.
"Look at the ground around you. Do you see anything?"
"Stars."
"Stars. Are you okay?" Heaven help her, this all sounded so familiar.
"Yeah, I think I'm okay." Glancing around him, he frowned. "Look, isn't the idea to bury mines so you don't see them?"
"Well, sometimes there's a little depression or a small pile." Please God, make it obvious this time where they are.
"Well, which is it? A depression or a pile?" Harm could kick himself. How had he gotten himself into this mess?
"Depends on how long ago it was buried."
"I'm going to stand up." Lying here all day certainly wasn't going to get them home safely.
"Just do it in place." Thoughts of her young son cradled in her arms as the Admiral handed her a folded flag flashed uninvited through her mind.
"That right rear tire is shredded." Now that he was sitting up, the situation wasn't looking any better.
Already knowing what she'd find, Mac flew to the other side of the humvee to look. "So is the left front."
"Look, maybe the mines we hit were the only ones here." Harm stood up carefully.
"What are the odds of that?" Mac snapped. It was happening all over.
"Kind of long."
"No, not kind of long. Very long. Incredibly long. Astronomically long. The odds of winning the lottery are greater than…"
"Okay, Mac. I get the point." She was right, but he couldn't stand here all night.
Mac surprised herself when she found herself tempted once again to start the engine. That much she could control. Obviously Harm wasn't in the protection of a humvee so driving closer wasn't an option. But, Lord there had to be a better way out. If she could only think.
"I've got an idea," Harm said thoughtfully.
A surge of hope rushed through Mac's system. Harm hadn't asked for the canteen. Maybe this would be different, maybe, like Jen and the bracelet, the entire nasty incident could still be avoided.
"What?"
"You take cover on the other side of the humvee. I'm going to walk over to you."
Crap. "That's not an idea that's Afghan Roulette." She meant it when she said it then and she meant it now. "You can't take a chance like that, Harm. Think of Mat."
"Mac, I can't stand here all night like a statue when there's probably nothing between me and that humvee but dirt." Harm said a short prayer that he was right.
"Harm, be practical. It's not like we can go anywhere on the rims." Maybe this time he would listen to reason.
"The first step is the hardest." Harm looked down slowly.
"Please, Harm. Don't."
Harm set his foot carefully in front of him. So far so good. Glancing up at Mac a moment, he smiled reassuringly as he set his other foot in front.
Barely smiling, Mac could hardly breathe trying to remember how many steps Harm had taken last time. Was it two or three?
Taking another step, he was almost there. He looked up at Mac again, this time her smile slightly more sincere.
Thank God, three steps. Mac grinned back at him with a nervous chuckle.
Another step, and both froze at the loud click.
"Did you hear that?" Harm asked weakly.
"Uh huh," was all she could bring herself to say. "I guess we're lucky."
"You guess? Why? I didn't just step on a mine?"
"No. You stepped on a mine. It's just not pressure detonated like the others. It's probably a Soviet butterfly mine."
"So what does that mean? It won't detonate until I take my foot off of it?"
"Right."
"How does that make us lucky?"
"You're still alive! Your son hasn't lost his father yet, has he?" A cold wash of fear covered her. It would be okay. She would do the same thing as last time. It would work. It had to.
"Not unless I move my foot." How could Harm have done this? He'd promised Mat he would never do to him what his Dad had done. That he would be there for Mat's ball games, graduation, his wedding, and the birth of his children.
Taking a quick look around, Harm's eyes turned back to Mac. "The slope probably isn't mined. You go up that way. On the far side of the mountain is base camp. Bring back help."
That dumb idea again. Maybe this really was to be exactly the same. "No. I wouldn't get there till morning and you're not going to stand there all night in the freezing cold." She needed to get this over with.
"This is what we're going to do. We replace your weight with something heavy like this ammo box."
"That ammo box doesn't weigh anything near what I do."
"It doesn't have to. It just has to delay the mine until you can get to the other side of the humvee."
"It's too heavy for you to hand to me." Harm's heart almost leapt out of his throat when he saw Mac land heavily on the ground with the ammo box in hand. "MAC! You could have killed us."
"But I didn't." She had to believe things would work out as well this time around as they had before. After all, fate wouldn't have brought them this far only to take him away now. Even if all of this was merely a dream, she wasn't prepared to wake up yet.
"Okay, I'm going to put my foot on the ammo box," Mac continued. "I'll slide it forward, and you slide your foot back." Grunting, she pushed the box towards Harm.
"Okay, I've got it. Take cover," Harm practically ordered.
"What?" How could she have forgotten this part? "Why do you have to be so macho, again?"
"What do you mean again? Never mind, can I get over the humvee faster from up here than you can from down there?"
"Probably." Why did she bother arguing with him?
"Then, I'm not being macho, I'm being practical."
"You know, sometimes you can be infuriating."
"I know," Harm smiled broadly, "That's why you married me. Now go."
"I love you." Mac practically whispered. She couldn't shake the fear that somehow all this was about to end.
And then, with the same athletic vault he'd performed all those years ago, Harm was over the humvee and wrapped around her. Just as upset this time to discover the idea came from the movies as he had been the first time she explained it back in her world. Only this time it had earned her a rather wet, sloppy, kiss when he finally caught up with her. After all, there wasn't much chance of being caught breaking regs in the middle of the Afghan desert.
Chapter 17Mac struggled with the heat, and the circumstances. Surviving a minefield the first time had been bad enough. No one should have to face that sort of fear twice in a lifetime.
"Ma'am," a young voice called from outside the tent.
"Come in, Corporal."
"Your call to the States just went through, ma'am." The young corporal popped his head inside her doorway.
"I'm on my way. Thank you, Corporal."
Mac had her boots on in no time, and hurried across the compound with an unusual amount of agility for someone as worn out as she had been only a few minutes ago.
Picking up the headset, "Hello," Mac called out in a loud voice. "Oh, Harriet, it's good to hear your voice. How's the baby?"
Mac had been fighting the huge ache in her heart since she'd left him behind for this assignment. Now after back to back mishaps, her nerves and hormones were shot. She missed her baby.
"He's fine Colonel, but you had all of us worried sick when we were told that you'd lost contact with base camp and had been unaccounted for. It didn't help any when Singer gloated how you'd been missing for hours, in the cold and dark." Harriet's blood boiled again just thinking about that witch.
"Singer?"
"Don't worry, Colonel. She learned her lesson."
Mac could almost hear Harriet's smile of satisfaction through the phone lines. She'd have to find out exactly what Harriet had done to Singer when she got home. Meanwhile, just hearing Harriet's voice had made Mac feel much better. It wasn't like she could talk to her son, but somehow knowing she was talking to the woman caring for him made Mac feel closer to him.
"Is Mat being a good boy?"
"He's a perfect angel," Harriet replied honestly. There was nothing she enjoyed more than having a small baby in the house.
"Thanks, Harriet. I wish I could talk longer, but I have to go."
"Understood. Bye, ma'am. You and the Commander be careful."
"We will. Good bye." Mac reluctantly hung up the phone. 'Be careful.' That was easier said than done. Not only couldn't she avoid mine fields, apparently she couldn't avoid air strikes either. An icy chill ran through her veins just thinking about the events of the previous night.
"You know, if you want, I could call the front desk and see if housekeeping can send up another pillow." Harm watched Mac beating her knapsack senseless. "What are you doing all the way over there?"
"Giving you some space. I mean, in case someone finds us."
"How much space do I need? You know, Mac, the temperatures are going to continue to drop. The Navy can't complain if they find us together. If we don't share body heat we'll risk hypothermia."
"Gee, you make it sound so inviting." Mac raised her brow slightly. Even married, he still had to make this difficult.
"You want an invitation?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you come over here with your husband? It's a little bit better than sleeping with scorpions." Harm nodded at the empty space beside him. Sometimes Mac was such a Marine. There was no way a search team would be looking for them at this hour of the night. It was highly unlikely anyone would be making any efforts to find them until morning light.
After a moment's hesitation, Mac snuggled comfortably into Harm's embrace, her heart skipping a beat when his long leg flung itself over hers. Years ago that had sent a thrill up her spine that had taken bombs exploding around them to diminish.
She was hopeful that event would be at least one thing she could completely avoid. It had been nearly impossible to recognize the terrain on foot, but Mac had made it a point to walk a slightly different path than they had the first time. Surely they'd walked far enough away from the hot zone.
Trying not to linger on the doubt, at least she could thoroughly enjoy her husband's warmth.
"How's this?" Harm asked, his voice lower than she remembered.
"Nice," Mac whispered back.
"Do you hear that?"
"I don't hear anything."
"Exactly. There aren't many places left in the US where you hear absolutely nothing."
Mac burrowed her head closer to her husband.
"This is almost perfect," Harm's lips barely kissed Mac's temple.
"Almost?" Mac couldn't help the grin that erupted at the feel of his warm lips against her skin. It felt like it had been years, not days, since she'd last felt his touch.
"Well, I could think of a few other places I'd rather be than in the desert, in uniform, surrounded by crawling things." Feeling a rise of sensations he'd been forced to ignore since they'd arrived, Harm couldn't resist letting his lips trail softly down Mac's cheek. "I've missed you so much."
"And I you." Mac's eyes fell shut at the soft feel of his lingering lips. She really had missed him. Having him so close, yet off limits, was worse than the week she'd spent on the Seahawk while Harm had been in DC.
"Oh, Mac." Unable to resist the feel of his wife molded curvaceously against him, Harm's fingers crawled up her shirt, dipping tenderly at her collar, teasing the soft, sweaty flesh just beneath her collar bone.
"Harm, we can't." Mac's heart was already beating at twice its normal rate. Her breath was coming in short gasps as his lean fingers, tugging firmly against the stretchy collar, diligently traced a slow feathery line across the lacey edges of her bra.
"I need you, Mac. I came closer today than I'd ever thought possible to never seeing you again. Never holding you in my arms, never feeling your body quiver around mine. I love you so much." His lips crashed firmly around hers, pulling her even closer against his already aching body.
What harm could there be? After all, they were married, and they did need to stay warm to survive the bitter Afghani night. No one would find them before daylight. He felt so good, so hard, so strong. She'd been so scared she would never see him again, that she would have to raise their son without him.
"I love you," Mac managed to mumble between kisses, rolling herself over her husband, straddling him with every inch of her body. She needed this man in her life, like she needed the air that she breathed.
Rolling over again, Harm couldn't hold back the almost primal groan that surged from deep in his belly when he felt Mac's fingers brush against him. Almost frenzied with need at her light touch, he was slow to react when he felt Mac suddenly stiffen in his arms.
"Mac? Are you okay?"
"Shh, listen." Mac's heart was racing tenfold and it had nothing to do with being wrapped intimately against her husband. "Do you hear…"
She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence when the bombs starting dropping, closer than the ones had before.
Springing up at the speed of light, Harm grabbed Mac's hand and scrambled for the nearest cover. Only a few yards away were some large boulders leading the way to one of the many caves that lined the Afghan terrain. They'd stayed in the clearing to avoid the scorpions and other creepy things that could create bedlam in the night, but now poisonous critters seemed to be the least of their problems.
"Ma'am? Ma'am," the young man called a little louder.
The young corporal's voice snapped Mac back to the present.
"Oh, sorry, Corporal. What did you say?" She couldn't shake the vivid memory. The bombs had seemed so much closer this time, and yet they had still managed to escape with only a few minor abrasions.
"Will that be all ma'am?" the confused Corporal repeated.
"Oh, yes. Thank you." Smiling sweetly at the young kid, Mac turned on her heel and started back to her own tent. She couldn't do this anymore. Dream or no dream, this had to stop.
Chapter 18
Bridge of the Seahawk
"I'm glad to hear you and the Commander were cleared by sickbay, ma'am," Bud commented, more concerned with the idea of Harm flying pursuit of the dirty nuke.
"Thanks, Bud. I have to admit, the possibilities gave us something to think about." Mac stared intently out the windows. The ship was in general quarters. Battle stations were manned. There was no point to taking nuclear precautions if the bomb detonated anywhere within ten miles. As the Captain had so eloquently put it, everyone below and above deck would be dead.
For the third time in as many days, she or Harm were within inches of leaving their son an orphan. The only thing keeping her sane was the fragile hope that this last escapade would result in the same positive outcome as their lives long ago. She didn't dare allow herself to think otherwise.
The announcement came over the loudspeaker – he would be passing on the port side. All eyes followed as Harm whizzed by, the nuke right on his six, the other pilot not far behind. Listening to the communication in the cockpit, the hairs on the back of Mac's neck stood straight up. How could he still be so cavalier? He had a wife and son to worry about and all he could do was joke that if it weren't a heat sensored missile it would ruin their day. Until this very moment, when there didn't appear to be a care in Harm's world for her or even Mat, did Mac realize just what being a Navy pilot meant. There was nothing in this world except Harm, the sky, and his beloved Tomcat.
As the nuke ran out of fuel and slowly dove towards the horizon, every soul on the bridge held a collective breath. The proverbial pin drop could have been heard. When the risk of any explosion on contact was past, the cheering roar could have drowned out a Super Bowl crowd.
JAG office
Seahawk
"Congratulations, sir." Bud slapped his one-time mentor on the back.
"I was told I could find my wife here." Harm looked over Bud's shoulder.
"Yes, sir." Bud stepped aside, waving in Mac's direction.
"Hi," Mac practically breathed.
"Hey," Harm glanced over his shoulder at Bud before locking his gaze on his wife. "Are you okay? You weren't worried, were you?"
"ME? Nah." There was no point in bringing up the fears she battled. She knew that on solid ground, or ship, she and Mat were the most important things in Harm's life and he would never intentionally put himself at risk. Of course, it was the unintentional things she would have to learn to live with.
Noticing Mac looking over Harm's shoulder at him, "Uh, hmm, I …uh..." Bud suddenly realized that the two senior officers might appreciate a moment alone. "I have to go to a ground breaking for a school in Gahzni," Bud finally spit out before turning away.
"Hang on Bud. Collateral damage, especially with civilian casualties is part of what I'm supposed to be reporting on. Give me five to get into some BDUs and I'll join you," Harm shot over his shoulder, never moving his eyes from his wife's powerful gaze.
Mac's heart stopped. This wasn't supposed to go this way. Harm wasn't supposed to go with Bud. Now what? Maybe this dream was tempting fate, maybe she wasn't supposed to have Harm and this was just a cruel joke. No, she couldn't let herself think this way.
"Remember the antipersonnel mines. I've had enough excitement these past few days to last me a lifetime. PLEASE be careful. Please." Her eyes pleaded even more strenuously than her words.
"I'll just be waiting on deck, sir." Bud nodded politely. Without waiting for a reply, he closed the door behind him.
"Please, Harm?" Mac repeated.
"I will. I promise." Unable to resist, Harm leaned down and gave his wife a thoroughly quick kiss. "I'll be back."
Mac swallowed a deep breath, her eyes following her husband out the hatch. Without realizing it, she'd stepped closer to the doorway, keeping an eye on Harm until he turned the corner at the end of the hall.
Helo to Gahzni"I understand you authorized the funds to rebuild," Harm shouted at Bud.
"Yes, sir. The fragments at the site were definitely American."
"And you're sure it was from a recent air strike?"
"Does it really matter, sir?" Bud repeated the same words he'd used with Jen.
"No, Bud. I guess not."
Keeping their eyes out the open doorway, when the helo touched down, Harm, Bud and Jen unlatched their restraints and quickly scrambled out of the whirling bird.
"It's right down this road, sir." Bud pointed straight ahead. "You can take a look around for yourself."
"No need, Bud. I trust your judgment." Harm scanned the horizon ahead. Most of what must have been the rubble from the original air strike had obviously been moved. He wondered if the large mound at the edge of the village wasn't what was left of it.
"Hey. Isn't that a mine field?" Bud stopped short.
"What?" Harm turned towards the direction his friend was looking.
"Out there. That little boy, he's playing in a mine field."
"Surely, they've already cleared the area, sir," Jen added, concern clearly evident in her tone.
"No. Go get someone from the village. Now!" Bud darted towards the little boy.
"BUD!" Calling on his pilot's reflexes, Harm shot his arm out and grabbed tightly ahold of Bud's shoulder.
"Remember what Mac said? Getting yourself killed isn't going to help that little boy," Harm admonished.
"Sir, I can't leave him out there." Turning to the little boy. "Hey, buddy. Over here! Don't move!"
"BUD!" Harm called out again, this time more firmly. "The kid is standing still. The last thing we need is to draw his attention and have him move towards us. Stay calm. We need him to stay still until an elder gets here who can communicate with him."
"Yes, sir. Right." Bud nodded submissively. "But what if he moves, sir?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Harm was already praying Mac didn't kill him if it came to him having to go in after the boy. Bud was right. They couldn't leave him playing in a mine field. Princess Diana had spent too much time proclaiming the plight of war torn countries where forgotten mines left innocent children as mere fragments of their former selves. No, the threat was real.
"What's taking Jen so long?" Bud asked, somewhat more relieved that the boy seemed content to stare at the two frightened soldiers. What had barely been two minutes, seemed like hours.
"Sirs," Jen shouted, running towards them from the end of the road, a short gray haired man attempting to keep up.
Just then Harm glanced over at the little boy and spotted him about to sprint in the old man's direction. "NO!" Harm shouted, raising one foot forward as Bud had done not five minutes ago.
"STOP!" Came a strong older voice.
Doing for his friend as his friend had done for him, Bud shot one arm out across Harm's midsection, the other pointing at the older man shouting as he ran up the road.
In what seemed like a simultaneous flash, the little boy tore off in the opposite direction towards the village as the older man screamed up at Bud and Harm, "It's okay. The mines have been cleared on the eastern side of the field. The boy knows the safe passage. Only the patch before you is still dangerous."
Relieved when the little boy reached the road, Harm let out an enormous sigh as he looked at the stretch of minefield in front of him, "Mac would have killed me."
"You and me both, sir," Bud agreed, swallowing hard. "You and me both."