A/N: The following contains the tiniest bit of graphic violence; use your discretion

The car pulled into the Dulles airport, Webb had reserved six first class tickets from Dulles to Damascus and their flight was due to leave in a little more than an hour and a half. The three men sprinted into the Dulles terminal and began looking around for the other members of their company. The first person who came into view was Keeter; Harm's call had likely caught him when he was on the road leaving Andrew's and he just turned and head for Dulles.

"Hey buddy, what's up?" Keeter looked concernedly at Harm.

"Mac…kidnapped…hostage…Syrians." Was all Harm could get out between panting for air.

"A few days ago, Mac was helping negotiate the legality of a crude dispute between Russia and Iran, where American interests were concerned. She was kidnapped by Hezbollah terrorists who have given us ten days to pay up or they'll kill her. Webb here is going to go talk with Airport security and make sure we can get our weapons through customs." Jim Grant filled Keeter in as Harm caught his breath. Webb ran off to talk to airport security and get the tickets.

"Jim, this is Lieutenant Commander Jack Keeter; Jack, this is Colonel Jim Grant." Harm made the introductions as the two men shook hands. "The government's not going to negotiate her rescue so…"
"So you two decided to go off half-cocked and rescue her." Keeter finished Harm's thought.

"Yeah, well, we've got two more about to join us, that'll make our little band three Recon Marines, two Naval Aviators and one CIA agent, if we can't save her then no SEAL or Ranger team can." Jim added as Webb came running back over to them.

"Put your weapons in my bag. It's the only one I could get cleared." Webb said as he opened the zipper to an old gym bag. Jim pulled out his service Beretta and dropped it into the bag, Harm and Jack followed suit and Webb dropped his pistol into the bag. As Webb zipped up the bag two men came running up alongside them.

"We got here as fast as we could Jim, what's up?" The voice was that of Captain Bill Koonan.

"I believe the two of you know Harmon Rabb, he'll bring you up to speed." Jim said as he talked aside to Keeter and Webb.

"Rabb? Jesus boy, it's been a while." Stryker extended his hand and shook Harm's.

"It certainly has, Colonel." Harm said as he retracted his hand.

"Dispense with the ranks, in the next few days, we're going to have to depend on each other and we can't have formality superseding necessity." Stryker added.

"A Marine Major colleague of mine was abducted by Syrian Hezbollah terrorists a few days ago; we have ten days to rescue her before they kill her. The government won't negotiate her release so we're basically going out there to rescue her." The two men nodded their heads as Harm finished the back-story.

"She's Matt O'Hara's niece." Jim added as he, Webb and Keeter walked back over to them. A wash of understanding came over Koonan and Stryker as the six of them gathered around Webb's gym bag. "If you're in, throw your guns in here, it's the only one airport security has been ordered to overlook, if you want to back out, now's your chance."

Stryker and Koonan threw their guns into the bag and shook hands with their team-mates. "When one of our own is in trouble, you better bet that we're going to be there to save them." Stryker put his hand in the middle.

"We can't forget the 'Corps' in 'God, Country, Corps'." Koonan put his hand on Stryker's.

"Loyal to the end, whenever it may come." Jim thrust his hand in.

"May God have mercy on my enemies, because I won't." Harm put his hand in.

"God, grant me the courage not to give up on what's right, even though I think it's hopeless." Webb added his hand to pile in the centre. The Navy men and Marines smiled at the Nimitz quote.

"I don't have a quote, I just want to save a Marine." Keeter stated sombrely as he thrust in hand in with the rest. With one loud 'Oohrah!' they parted and sprinted for the gate where there plane was boarding. The five sea-bags cleared security without obstruction and Webb's bag bypassed security as the six men made their way to their seats on board United flight 117 to Damascus. Jim sat next to Webb, Koonan next to Keeter and Harm sat next to Stryker.

"You don't live a boring life kid, that's for sure." Stryker said as he stared out the window.

"Why did you and Captain Koonan seem to suddenly understand what we were asking when Jim mentioned that Mac was Matt O'Hara's niece?" It was something that had bugged Harm since it happened.

"You've got to understand Rabb, Recon Marines live in a very small world, we've all worked with one another at some point in time. Men like Matt, Bill, Jim and I are fiercely loyal to each other because of that fact. Make no mistake, these men are trained to kill, when we find her, if she's heavily guarded, what you knew about any of us goes right out the window." Stryker's tone was foreboding.

"Just like the jungle, way back when?" Harm questioned, his experience in the search for his father all those years ago was enough of a prologue for this adventure.

"Precisely, you discover things about yourself that you wouldn't have thought were possible. I'll bet you never thought that you could kill in cold blood before you went into the jungle that summer." Stryker's tone was almost wise.

"No, no, I would never have guessed that was part of my make-up." Harm stared at his feet.

"It's amazing what the human body will do when it's pushed to extremes, what sacrifices we'll make for those we care about. You've only really been pushed to that extreme on rare occasions. Guys like me and Jim and Bill have made a career out of doing it. Out of swallowing our humanity and just getting the job done, it may sound savage but it's what we do, I just wanted you to know what you've gotten yourself into kid." Stryker got up from his seat and walked toward the bathroom.

Jim and Clay came walking up to Harm's seat. "Alright, here's the plane. I've got a contact in Damascus, a former member of the Foreign Legion, he runs a bar." Clay started when Jim cut him off.

"He runs a bar in a Muslim country?" Jim looked confused.

"It's not how he makes his money." Clay shot back.

"Of course not." Jim looked cynical.

"Anyway, he can set us up with anything. Everyone goes to his place, so if anyone's going to know where Mac is, it will be him. I've got a standing order with him for Uzis and Desert Eagles, they're Israeli manufactured which makes them incredibly easy to come by in that part of the world. We're going to need an escape plan but I've got a thought there as well. Can Keeter fly a Huey?" Webb looked at Harm with anticipation.

"Yes, he can." Keeter replied from his seat.

"I might be able to procure one, it would sure as hell make our escape easier, that is, if we find out that they're not keeping her inside Damascus." Clay stood up and headed back to his seat.

"This promises to be one hell of a rescue op; you got the heart of a Marine in you, man." Jim said as he threw himself down into Stryker's seat.

"That's treason to say to a Navy man." Harm smiled, the first time since he'd found out about Mac.

"No it isn't Matt O'Hara was right when he said you had a Recon heart under all that Navy blue. When I told him that I was coming to work at JAG, he told me that I was going to meet Sarah's sailor and I got to admit, I kind of laughed at the prospect." Jim smiled as he gave Harm a friendly slug in the shoulder. "We're going to save her, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know. Thanks for standing up to the SECNAV back in the office." Harm gave his friend a pat on the shoulder.

"I couldn't have both of us resigning to go save her. Besides, I know people like Alex Nelson, they act tough but when faced with real toughness, they spook easily." Jim said with a comical undertone to his voice. "It's not often I find friends that I'd take a bullet for, or help lead a band of six rag-tag government servants into a foreign country to rescue a Marine being held captive my terrorists, but damn it Harm, you're one of those friends."

"Colonel, I believe you're in my seat." Stryker stood in the aisle looking at him.

"I believe you're right, Frank, I'll go back and check on our friendly neighbourhood spook." Jim got up and went back to his seat next to Webb.

"Ladies and Gentlemen we are beginning our descent into Damascus International Airport, we ask that you fasten your seatbelts at this time and enjoy your time in Syria." The pleasant voice and sentiment expressed by the stewardess caused a snicker from the six travel companions; this trip promised to be a lot of things, enjoyable was not one of them.

When the plane landed and the six of them grabbed their bags and headed through their arrival gate and into the main terminal. "Alright Webb, I think we should probably set up in a hotel or something, we're going to need some kind of Base of Operations for this op if we want it to be successful." Harm said, striding alongside the CIA agent.

"Already covered, there's a hotel not too far from here, we've got three rooms, two of which are adjoining. Tonight, we're going to meet my contact at his establishment, only three of us should go and we can't look like Wyatt Earp and his gang going to the OK Corral. We have to look sophisticated or we'll stand out." Webb was really trying to make up for putting Mac in this situation.

"Alright, well I know Harm and I have our Oxford shirts, ties and slacks from our uniforms, we should be fine for tonight." Jim started but Harm cut him off.

"Yeah, because the shoulder-board insignia on my uniform shirt won't draw attention. Webb, I'm going to need a jacket." Harm looked over at the secret agent.

"We'll pick one up when we walk through the marketplace near the hotel." Clay looked over his shoulder. "The hotel isn't too far from here, so, I think it would be wise to walk it, blend into the crowd." The six of them stepped out of the air conditioned airport into the sunny desert oasis of Damascus.

"Man, am I glad I threw on this t-shirt while we were on the plane." Jim shielded his eyes as they walked out into the heat. "I'm also remarkably glad I keep a pair of sunglasses in my desk drawer at work." He flipped on the sunglasses as they started walking through the streets. It was about eight blocks from the airport to the marketplace outside of their hotel. They tried not to look conspicuous but considering none of them spoke Arabic or Farsi, their limitations made them stand out like a sore thumb.

"Bill; you, Jack and Frank check into the hotel, the reservations are under Rubble, Flintstone and Jetson; we'll meet you in the lobby in about a half hour." Webb told them as the group split up. Harm, Jim and Webb headed for a tailor to pick up a few sport coats, nothing too fancy just a simple and cheap beige jacket that would get them through the night and could conceal a weapon on an inside pocket.

"How much money do we have for this little op, Webb?" Harm said as he threw the jacket over his shoulder.

"I was able to get about a $100,000 budget, it's not much for what we're looking at, but it should be enough to get us the weapons, ammo and transportation that we're going to need. You guys sure you can pull this off?" Clay had been of great help so far but his doubts were starting to manifest.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life." Harm said as they moved back out into the market to find their comrade bartering with a local vendor. Jim tossed the man twenty American dollars which the man took willingly and handed Jim what he requested.

"It's a fifteenth century Ottoman short-sword. The blade is only about twelve inches long but it's sharp, light and curved so that it deals the most amount of damage with the least amount of effort. Never go into combat without a blade." Jim fixed the sheathe to his belt, than picking up a fruit from a nearby stand, he tossed it up into the air. In one swift motion he drew the sword from its place a brought the blade through the soaring fruit, carving its normally hard shell in one clean cut. The display was awe-inspiring and brought applause from the gathering crowd.

"The crusaders used to say that the desert took the man and left the beast." Webb said under his breath to Harm.

"It's taken more than the desert to do that to him." Harm said with a hint of worry in his voice. Stryker had been right, twenty years of being a professional killer did odd things to a man's soul. The action - while impressive - was savage in its magnificence, as was the sterility of Jim's expression as he manipulated the blade and brought it masterfully through the offending vegetation. It was a worrying act if only for the air which it presented.

Sheathing the weapon again, Jim walked over to his friends. "It is perhaps better that we should head back to the hotel." Jim walked past his friends as they made a rather silent walk back to the hotel.

In the lobby, Keeter, Stryker and Koonan were awaiting their comrades to rejoin them. Harm, Jim and Webb came through the front doors carrying their things and headed over to their friends. "How are the rooms looking?" Harm said as the group reformed.

"Good, we swept it, there's not a single piece of surveillance equipment to be found. Everything's laid out. Me and Bill will be bunking together, Keeter will bunk with Webb and that just leaves the two lawyers." Stryker said he took one of the bags and they headed toward the elevator.

"Alright, we're going to need a plan of action; which is what we're going to go through tomorrow after we get the Intel, tonight. I know we'd all like to get through this as quickly as possible but I'd like to go back to the States with all my team members and our freed hostage in tact." Harm said as he looked around the elevator.

"Agreed, we're going to have to operate at night, it's the only time we'll be able to manipulate the desert to our advantage. I know that Jim and I have some experience in the desert from our days in Beirut." Koonan said as the elevator stopped at their floor. Keeter opened the door to his room and everyone stepped inside.

"Rabb conducted an operation like this for NSA a few years back where he and his partner freed and American Marine from an Iraqi prison and were chased across the desert by Saddam." Webb added to reach a consensus.

"The jungle was my specialty but I haven't forgotten how to raid a building." Stryker supplied as he tossed the bag down on to the bed.

"That just leaves Webb and Keeter and if we need Keeter to fly a Huey than it's only Webb we have to worry about." Jim looked suspiciously over at the agent.

"Hey, I told you I was in this and I meant it! Now, it's my fault Mac's here and I'm just as willing as the rest of you to risk life and limb to get her out." Webb fired back sick of the Marine questioning.

"Attaboy Clay, I just wanted to make sure you were with us." Jim gave him a pat on the shoulder. "We've got to get ready to meet our contact in an hour when the sun goes down."

"Rabb, you know the lines you're supposed to say when you're approached?" Clay was double checking as his bag was opened and their weapons feel on to the bed

"Know it? They may list among the most important words I've said in my life to this point, of course I know them." Harm shot back as he picked up his Beretta and slid it into the inside pocket of the sport coat.

"Good because if you screw up, we're going to have to shoot our way out that place." Webb's concern still playing upon his tone.

"Worried, Clay?" Jim said as he slid his Beretta into his shoulder holster.

"Prepared." Clay loaded a magazine into his gun.

2100 LOCAL TIME
BLUE OASIS CLUB

DAMASCUS, SYRIA

The three men walked into the club and fanned out, careful to keep their eyes on each other. Harm walked up and leaned on the bar. "Double Bourbon." Harm called to the bartender as a man in a ball cap walked up to his side. The bartender poured Harm's drink and handed it to him.

"What in heaven's name brought you to Damascus?" The voice came from the man in the ball cap.

"My health. I came to Damascus for the waters." Harm said slowly turning away from the bar and toward the man who stood next to him.

"The waters? What waters? We're in the desert." The man quipped back with a smile tugging at his face.

"I was misinformed." Harm's two friends closed in next to him as the exchange ended.

"Mr. Rabb and Mr. Webb I presume?" The man said with an air of arrogance.

"That's right, take us to Mr. Phillips." Webb shot back and the man motioned for them to follow him into the back room. The three stalked languidly through the club to a heavy oak door. The door creaked open to reveal a man in his late fifties puffing on a cigarette in an office that was nothing but hunter green and mahogany.

"Clayton, how nice of you to drop in on me. I must say that after you contacted me I was a little surprised especially since your last trip to Damascus ended so poorly. I suppose you're here about the Marine. I've seen her, a regular desert flower, pity what they plan on doing to her though." The thick British accent more than added to the tense atmosphere.

"Harmon Rabb, Jim Grant this is Simon Phillips." Clay made the introduction.

"No need to introduce us Clayton, I'm more than familiar with my guests. Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Junior, Navy poster boy. Tours of duty over Kuwait and Iraq during Desert Storm and an aviator until a ramp strike ended that little pipe dream, since then you've managed to win two Distinguished Flying Crosses. Colonel Jim Grant, two Silver Stars, three Bronze Stars, two Purple Hearts and a Navy Cross. You've made some powerful enemies over the years, Colonel, but that comes with being a government mercenary." Phillips got up from behind his desk. His arrogance was more than wearing the patience of the two officers but it was lucky that Webb was doing all the talking.

"Simon, we just want my standing order for weapons and any Intel on the whereabouts of that Marine." Webb stepped forward, it was the first time that he'd tried to be intimidating.

"What's in it for me?" The Brit had one eyebrow perked.

"$75,000" Clay shot back.

"Deal, although I shouldn't, the terrorists are asking so much more. Still, I like doing business with you, Clayton." Phillips pulled a bag out from under his desk and threw it on the desk. "I counted six in your company when you got off the plane. In this bag there are six Desert Eagles and knowing the Colonel's legendary preference for duals, he and the Commander will have two Uzis while the rest of your company will have to make due with one. Of course, there's all the ammunition you could need and behind the club, there will be an armoured vehicle ready for your appropriation." Phillips sat back in his chair.

"As for the information. The lovely Miss MacKenzie is rather heavily guarded, I'd say at least a hundred men. There's a compound on the southern edge of town. It's built on top of old ruins, something you will surely notice when you enter the building. Miss MacKenzie is being kept in the cellar. There's a trap door behind the ruins of an old altar, in the northeast corner of the building. I would suggest that, unless you plan on killing everyone inside, you execute your rescue rather quickly. As a bonus I have blueprints of the site, they're included in the bag." Phillips pulled out another cigarette and casually lit it. Harm stepped forward and grabbed the bag. The three men turned and left the office.

They walked through the club and back to the hotel, eyes peeled for anything that might raise suspicion. The night seemed to fall like a heavy blanket around them as they walked calmly through the streets carrying more fire power then some platoons. The three Americans entered the hotel and made a bee-line for the elevator.

"Are your nerves supposed to feel like this?" Webb said as the elevator climbed toward the seventh floor.

"Yes, there's a quick impulse of heightened awareness before they die entirely." Jim said as he looked at the door.

"Die entirely?" Clay looked over at him.

"When we go into that compound, that's what's got to happen because it's the only thing that'll keep you alive. Your nerves have to shut off. You've got to run on adrenaline or you'll end up in a body bag. There is no thinking, just follow the plan and shut off your nerves. Don't think about who or what you shoot, just shoot and shoot to kill." Jim looked at Webb, the steel in his eyes reflected by the elevators lights.

The doors opened and the three of them opened the door to Keeter's room where the other half of the team was sitting playing cards.

"We've got it!" Harm said as they walked through the door. Clay threw the bag on the bed. The first thing he pulled out were the blueprints and he laid them across the bed. Then individually, he took out the guns and the ammo clips and even a few smoke grenades. "We're going to have to plan this all out tomorrow and we'll execute it tomorrow night. Keeter, you're going to be our driver, make sure you've got a fast route worked out between the American embassy and the compound." Keeter nodded as he took Harm's warning.

With that, they broke for the night; Harm and Jim heading to their room and Koonan and Stryker heading for their room. Their were two beds in each room but neither Harm nor Jim could sleep they just stared looking up at the ceiling. "Jim?"

"Yeah, Harm." Jim said his fatigue creeping into his tone.

"What made you the way you are?" It was Harm's turn to sound concerned.

"Years of trying to separate the personal and the professional. If I tell myself this is just a job I'll be on the top of my game when we go in there tomorrow night. If I tell myself that Mac is no different than the countless others I've rescued than it means she'll make it back to the States just like they did. I'm worried that if I snap out of Marine-mode and back into Jim-mode, I'll screw up and I don't want to let that happen." Jim said, his arms behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Must take a lot of combat to make you want to do that." Harm said as sleep approached his eyes.

"It's not the combat, it's the aftermath that haunts you." Jim rolled on his pillow and dragged his eyelids shut.

The next morning dawned on Damascus, with a red sun rising over the dunes in the distant east. Harm was up at the first light ready to get started for the day, ready to get Mac back where she belonged, at JAG, with him. He looked out the big window in the room and saw the bustling city waking gently beneath him. His partner stirred in his sleep as he slowly awoke from his slumber. "What time is it?" Jim rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"About 0550." Harm looked back into the room.

"Mac could tell us down to the second." Jim quipped with a smile.

"Yeah, she could and she will later today." Harm smiled as well.

"Let's prepare to meet the day." Jim got himself up out of bed and threw on a pair of shorts. Before heading into the next room to wake up Keeter and Webb. By 0630 the team was all together, enjoying room service and pouring through the blueprints on the bed.

"What we know, is that this compound was built on an old ruin sight, so we're unlikely to encounter any gates or fences but we may have to contend with sentries on the roof. Night-time and camouflage may help us evade some detection but we're going to have to be fast." Stryker started.

"We're going to have to avoid the main roads and kill our headlights. I'd also like to keep the vehicle out of plain view. Keeter, you can't come in with us but you have to get yourself in position to see us the second we come running out of the building." Harm added as he poked at his porridge.

"We're going to have to do this in waves. Bill, Frank and I will take the front door, the second you hear a knock come at the side door Harm take that as your cue to break in and join in the fight." Jim added pointing to the side door on the map.

"This is an all or nothing operation. We're not looking for information, we're rescuing a hostage so do not shoot to take prisoners. Remember, these men are terrorists, they wouldn't think twice about taking your life, don't think twice about taking theirs." Koonan looked up from the map.

"I'd just like to thank you all for coming this far and for helping Jim and myself rescue Major MacKenzie. You're willingly risking more than we have right to ask of you." Harm looked up from his food and was rewarded by a pat on the back from Koonan and Keeter.

"Harm, you'd do the same for us." Keeter said as he pushed his try aside.

"We few, we happy few, we Band of Brothers…" Jim started and looked at the voice that intercepted him.

"For he today who sheds his blood with me shall be my brother." Webb finished and looked around at the smiling faces of the men around him.

"Who said that? Robert E Lee?" Keeter looked up from the blueprints.

"William Shakespeare." Harm supplied the answer.

"Man knew what he was talking about." Stryker added as the six men parted to get themselves ready for that night. They got dressed in Desert cammies, without the caps and the rank insignia. They had their utility belts; they knew that they were going to be carrying as many clips as humanly possible for this mission. The day was passed by the six men sitting in the main room going through each moment, step-by-step so that nothing was missed.

Keeter called a time aloud and one of them responded with what part of the operation would be executed at that point. They spent for hours making sure that between the five of them they knew exactly what was going to be done, every movement down to the last flex or gunshot.

At around five o'clock they broke for a meal. A quick supper to keep their energy up, tonight was it. They still, technically, had eight days before the offer ran out but Harm nor anyone else was willing to risk Mac being in Hezbollah custody any longer than that night. Jim and Harm sat on their beds looking out into the dying sunlight. "It feels almost vampire-like, to stalk and kill in the night." Jim's voice sounded deflated and cold.

"You were right in telling Bud not to come. I wouldn't want to put him through this, what I'm feeling right now." Harm's hands were tented in front of his mouth.

"I'm surprised the Admiral didn't demand to come with us. We sure could've used a SEAL." Jim said as he lay back on the bed.

"Someone had to run the shop. He would've come if he thought it was best." Harm said as he started to pace the floor.

"Sit, there's someone we have to ask for help." Jim said instructing Harm. "I always say the Lord's Prayer before I go out on a mission."

"You ask for God's help to kill people?" Harm asked incredulously.

"No, I ask him to forgive me for what I'm about to do and to help me do the right thing." Jim said with a great reverence, his eyes looking toward the sky. The two men sat on the bed and even though it had been years for Harm, they said the Lord 's Prayer and asked God to help them and forgive them.

Harm looked out the window for yet a third time that day and just he had at dawn and high noon, he watched how the movement of the sun dictated the movements of the city. Dusk, the cloak of darkness coated the city in a crimson light as the sun faded behind the hotel. The red light, it conjured up imagery too potent to ignore. "Surely, this place is hell." Harm said loud enough to hear.

"I remember the first time I uttered those words. Egypt, 1977." Jim said looking up at his friend who was still looking out the window. "We'll get it done Harm, and soon this will be only a nightmare, locked away in some far recess of your mind."

"Do you think you'll have to use that?" Harm looked down at the Ottoman short sword that hung loosely at his friend's side.

"If it comes to that." Jim replied as he left Harm alone with his thoughts and went to sit with Keeter and Webb in the other room. After a few minutes of quiet introspection, Harm walked into the room where the rest of the team was now gathered.

"Alright folks, it's zero-hour, do we have every thing?" Harm asked as he saw a round of nodding pass through the room. "Let's move." Harm grabbed the old gym back now full to the brim with loaded firearms. Each man carried a full compliment of ammunition in his belt as they made their way through the hotel to the street where their armoured vehicle had been delivered by Phillips earlier that evening.

Harm walked up to the front and put the heel of his boot through the headlights. The team piled in and Keeter took the driver seat as they slowly made their way through the Damascus streets. In the back seats, guns were being distributed as the clicking of magazines and safeties indicated. Each man had his service Beretta, a Desert Eagle and an Uzi. The only exceptions were Jim and Harm who were entrusted with two of the sub-machine guns.

As they neared the edge of the city, the buildings became smaller and more sparse. The second he could, Keeter pulled off the main road and started to climb the dunes in the armoured SUV. Koonan had a pair of binoculars out spotting the location trying to find out their exact distance from their target.

"Alright, park just before this next dune. The compound is on the other side." Koonan pulled himself back inside the vehicle. After a few more second of driving, Keeter stopped the SUV and put it into park.

"End of the line." Keeter said as they all piled out of the vehicle. Harm and Webb took off in one direction for their side of the building and the three Recon Marines took off for their entrance. The desert was a barren cold wasteland at night. Your breath looked like steam as it poured out of your mouth and you looked like a raging bull if it came out of your nostrils. Within minutes Koonan, Stryker and Jim had made their way to the main entrance to the building, Koonan looked down at his watch and counted down the second until the exact time of initiation.

Koonan gave the signal and Jim drew his guns and kicked the door open which was followed by Stryker tossing in the smoke grenade. The three Marines filed into the compound through the entrance and fanned out. Soon the atmosphere was steeped into two sounds; that of gunfire and that of shells hitting the cement floor. When Phillips had told them that there were upwards of one-hundred men in this compound, he hadn't been lying. From the second that the door had burst open, adversaries came at them like locusts, each falling to the rhythmic sound of an Uzi sending off bullets.

As the gunplay in the main area died down, Stryker went over to the auxiliary entrance and pounded on the door giving Harm and Webb their signal to enter. The two men came charging through the door and looked around to see bodies littering the floor at the far end of the main area. The innards of this building resembled something of a warehouse, they knew they were going to have to fan off through a few corners to find Mac.

"What the hell happened here?" Harm saw the blood delicately painting the floor around the corpses.

"Terrorists bent on running into bullets, looks like thirty in total." Jim said as he took a quick count.

"Anyone here hurt?" Harm looked around studying the Marines who had cleaned up the now secure area.

"No, we're all still in one piece." Stryker motioned for them to continue on with their plan. The Marines switched over to their handguns as they were forced to navigate the narrow hallways that lead to the back. They cleared every corner with precision, eliminating thirteen guards in the dark, narrow stone-walled labyrinth that lead to the hangar at the back of the compound.

"Forty-three down, fifty-seven to go." Koonan uttered as they made their way to the split hallway. This time it was Webb's turn to hunker in with the retired Marines as Harm and Jim took the bee-line to rescue Mac.

"The trap-door is six and a half feet to your right once you open that door just remember that." Webb murmured audibly just before they broke down the last obstacles between them and the final unsecured area of the compound. They heard the sound of approaching footsteps and took it as their queue to break down the last barrier. Harm's foot crashed through the one door and Koonan's foot crashed through the other as they heard the familiar rhythm of gunfire start around them.

"You two go get her, we'll cover your six!" Stryker shouted as their own guns started up. Jim and Harm walked over to the trap door in the floor and the thunder of Harm's boot once again made itself known as it broke through the flimsy wooden trap door. Harm landed on the cement stairs beneath the door. Jim following fast behind him. Harm had his Beretta drawn, these were close quarters, the Uzi was too big and clumsy, the Beretta was accurate. The two men came to the bottom of the stairs silently and walked through the darkened room. As they moved toward the room where Mac was being kept, a light flicked on and Harm felt the cold steel of the barrel of a gun being pressed to the side of his head.

Noticing his partner's predicament, Jim's body went into overdrive. Grabbing the sword he'd purchased in the marketplace, in one swift moment the blade was drawn up and severed the offending arm below the shoulder causing it to fall to the ground, gun still in hand. Than with a great cry of anguish and a second movement of the blade, it was brought around in a fierce decapitation of the man who had threatened Harm's life.

Harm looked worried at his friend who was trying desperately to catch his breath. He looked in a trance, as if blood-lust had taken over his body. "You okay buddy?" Harm inquired with a worried eye. He saw the Marine shake his head in an attempt to come too.

"Every once in a while that happens and I frighten myself with what I'm capable of." Jim wiped the blade and sheathed it again. Harm barged through the last door and saw her lying on the floor with a mighty gash across the side of her head.

"Mac! Come on Mac, please still be with us!" Harm rushed over to her side and gathered her up in his arms. He clothes were tattered but remarkably they were still in tact. She was breathing but it was faint. "Please Sarah, remember that promise." He saw the tarnished pendant still dangling from her elegant neck.

Jim crouched next to his friend and watched as the tears came from his eyes. "Come on buddy, there's nothing we can do here, we have to get her to the embassy." Harm hoisted her over his shoulder and the two of them began the slow ascent through the bowels of this ninth circle of hell back to the hangar as morning's first light decorated the skies.

The two men ascended the stone stairs only to come up at the tail end of the fire-fight. The Marines had cleaned up, there were bodies every where, the blood red of the floor would never come clean.

"We still got the same amount of people we came in with?" Jim inquired as he saw Clay, Koonan and Stryker walked toward them.

"We're all here, a little worse for wear but here. How's she?" Stryker said indicating Mac who was still draped over Harm's shoulder.

"She's alive." A raspy voice came from behind Harm. In a sudden wave of euphoria, Harm lowered her to a standing position and held her hips so she didn't fall.

"You okay, sweet thing?" He smiled as he saw those big brown eyes of hers open.

"Better now." She smiled weakly.

"Anyone got a drink left in their canteen? I'm sure that the Major's plenty parched." Jim looked around and Clay tossed his canteen to Harm who grabbed it and handed it to Mac. She took a long drink and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Much better. Come on let's get out of here." Her lips were staring to return to their former lustre. The six of them weaved their way back through the compound to the main entrance where Keeter was their waiting for them. They all piled in the vehicle and Keeter sped off for the American Embassy. "So, Robin Hood did you and your Merry Men decide you just had to save Maid Marian or what's the deal with this crew?" Mac pointed to all the men in the car.

"Well you already know Little John…" Harm pointed to Jim. "Friar Tuck…" Harm pointed to Keeter. "And Will Scarlet." Harm pointed to a very sore Clayton Webb who waved at Mac. "As for the other to in the back with old Will, let me introduce Colonel Francis Stryker and Captain Bill Koonan." Both men waved at Mac.

"So, you decided to team up with a bunch of Marines to save me, did you?" She smiled as she curled under Harm's arm.

"And one Navy!" Keeter protested from the front seat.

"Don't forget me." Webb laughed from the back.

"Friends and Marines, we teamed up to make sure the USA got one of her finest back." Harm smiled and placed a kiss on top of her head. Keeter had found the fastest way to get to the Embassy alright, he might have nearly run down eighty or ninety people doing it but he got them there. The doors to the vehicle flung open and Jim Grant was the first to approach the Marine at the front gate. Flashing his Military ID, Jim's command to open the gate was immediately heeded and the team made their way into the embassy.

They were greeted in the entry hall by the Ambassador who seemed to be standing by, waiting for their arrival. "You must be Commander Rabb and Colonel Grant. Secretary Nelson told me to expect you, he also told me to have a helicopter ready on the helipad on the roof to get you out of Syria and to the USS Patrick Henry out in the Med."

"Thanks Mr. Ambassador, I guess we just follow the stairs?" Harm inquired, Mac was still in his arms, her legs were suffering some serious atrophy and as such she couldn't really walk.

"Follow the stairs to the helipad, your ride is waiting for you." The Ambassador called as the comrades clamoured up the stairs. Just as they reached the top the Ambassador called to them again. "Commander Rabb!" The party stopped and turned back toward their host. "That was a damn brave thing you did. Crazy, but damn brave."

The group reached the helipad and found a waiting COD ready to take them to the Henry. All seven of them piled onboard, Harm never allowing Mac to leave his arms. "We're going home, ninja-girl" Harm said as he tossed another smile at her.

"We certainly are, flyboy." She smiled right back.

1830 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The last three days in Falls Church had been agony. No work was getting done and everyone was hanging on word from Syria. When the call came in that day it was like the last pitch in the ninth inning of a World Series game.

"JAG Ops, Petty Officer Tiner speaking." Tiner said with trepidation. "Yes, sir, Mr. Ambassador, I'll transfer you through to the Admiral right away, sir." Tiner transferred the call and went into the bullpen alongside Bud, Harriet and the rest of the people at JAG.

Back in his office AJ Chegwidden gripped the phone hard and awaited good news. When the Ambassador told him that they were all okay and that they were on their way home a giant weight lifted off his heart and he breathed a great sigh of relief. He walked triumphantly out into the bullpen to address the waiting crowd. "They've got her! They're coming home!" Was all he said and with a smile he joined in the celebratory atmosphere in the bullpen. Harriet had flung herself into her fiancé's waiting arms.

"Oh Bud! Did you hear that? They did it, they're coming home!" Harrier sobbed and Bud cradled her head into his shoulder.

"I heard, honey, I heard." He said into her blonde hair as a flood of happy tears streamed down her face.

A/N: One of the best things about the latest batch of reviews has been people telling me what Movie/TV stars would play Jim, I've got the actor in mind but I love reading the other ideas; so if you've got one, send it along in a review!