Thank you for the reviews. Still a bit more to go! This chapter has a lot of back and forth but I rather like a lot if this story is told through backflashes. And aren't hubby Harm and Mac just the cutest?!. LOVE writing scenes for them. *happy sigh*

Chapter 31 - Caught

"Mmmm...this is so good." She wasn't the type to eat in bed, especially foods that could possibly leave crumbs, but Mac woke to the most heavenly smell of bread baking with a hint of rosemary and parmesan. Harm walked in several minutes later carrying a tray with two personal sized pizzas.

They were perfectly baked, doughy crust that was crisp on the edges with the right amount of cheese and sauce. Her's was covered in pepperoni and sausage and his in veggies. Mac never realized how good such a delicacy could be after lovemaking. "Wow, each bite gets better and better. I didn't know you could make pizza from scratch."

Harm grinned sheepishly. She'd been complimenting him almost constantly upon taking her first bite. "I guess I took up a couple of hobby's in the last few years."

Kneading the dough provided some stress relief. Making the sauce required concentration. Anything that kept his mind off of her disappearing was needed at times. Just like building model airplanes, it stopped him from drinking and gave Harm a purpose.

"Never realized how amazing pizza could taste after great sex." She took another bite and moaned happily, that grin of Harm's only widened.

"It was pretty great….amazing actually. Mind blowing. Intense…"

She opened her eyes, swallowed down the bite and stared at him sweetly. "You know, I thought that part of our relationship would wane after we first got together."

Harm shook his head, he'd never wanted a woman like he did Mac. Even after seeing her day in and out, multiple outfits from bathing suits to ballroom gowns, that desire wouldn't stop. In fact he wanted her more than ever. "I knew it wouldn't. I knew it would be like this every time and it scared the shit out of me. That first night everything just clicked."

"I guess it did." She raised up her left hand where the wedding band rested. For days after they were married Mac couldn't stop looking at it, studying the perfectly engraved roses. Even now she felt a deep sense of elation, a tingling warmth that spread through her - she married Harmon Rabb Jr.

"You never told me that AJ was gonna walk you down the aisle."

Mac pursed her lips and sighed, the memories of her engagement to Mic were images she wished to erase. While it wasn't bad, she wasn't in love and her reasons for taking his ring stemmed from loneliness and hurt. It still shamed her that she could be so weak. But, there was a secret she never told Harm, the real reason she was so upset he'd rather catapult off a carrier than be at her wedding. "I wanted it to be you."

"Me?"

"You're my best friend. You knew me better than anyone. I knew you cared for me, loved me in your own way. It made sense for you to be the one to give me away."

Harm's stomach churned, he couldn't imagine walking her to Mic who would likely stare at him with that arrogant grin. His heart would have shattered with each step they took, the irrevocable damage destroying him for life. And he would have done it if only because Mac asked. "That would have killed me."

"Me too." She dropped her head to his shoulder. "I guess it's a good thing you decided to drop your plane in the drink." He snorted at that and she threaded her arm through his. "Would you have stopped it? The wedding?"

"I don't know."

"I dreamt you would or maybe it was wishful thinking." She wouldn't have been happy as Michael Brumby's wife no matter how many content moments they shared.

"Chegwidden still hopes to walk you down the aisle one day."

Mac shook her head, she wouldn't be engaged or married to anyone else. "You planning on divorcing me, sailor?"

"No. But, we can renew our vows at some point. Have a real wedding?"

"We had a real wedding."

"Yeah but, don't all girls want more? Big wedding, reception, the works?"

She didn't but it sounded like he did. Mac smiled at that and lifted her head to look at him. "I don't need all of that. I just need you. That being said, I could be talked into marrying you again. Only if we make that honeymoon on a tropical island like you promised." This way they could erase Farid a little more out of their lives.

"To catch you in a bikini all day, that's a hell yes from me."

Mac grabbed his plate and hers, settling both on the nightstand. "Maybe if we found a private beach you'd have me in less than that all day." She slipped onto his lap, the sheets falling off of her as she moved. "I love you….and I love the way I feel when I tell you that I love you." His eyes actually twinkled each time Mac said those worse and it made her feel warm and tingly and immeasurably happy.

She pressed her lips against his and then pulled back to scrunch her face. "What?"

"You smell like oregano and garlic."

That made him laugh. "And you like cheese and pepperoni." But he kissed her anyway, his hands dropping down to stop her hips from rocking against him like they were. She was making him hard and Mac knew it which was why he groand as she jumped off of him and sauntered to the bathroom. "Uh, Mac?"

"Yeah?" She appeared moments later with a toothbrush in her mouth wearing a bathrobe.

"You just gonna leave me like this?"

Mac's gaze dropped to his lap, the obvious tent that she'd erected and merely shrugged. She left the brush in her mouth, undid the sash on her robe and let it drop as she walked away. He watched her retreating form, admiring her six and those long legs, she really was a beautiful woman.

"That was your invitation to join me in the shower." Her voice echoed from the bathroom amidst the sound of running water.

"Okay then." Harm tore off the sheets and raced into the bathroom joining Mac under the warm spray. She gasped as he pressed her against the cool tiles, moaned when he slipped inside of her and began to move. "I love you, Mac."

There were sounds of running water, love and passion. Their last moment of peace.

Brown eyes looked over the pair he'd dumped onto a large sofa. The woman was easy enough to throw over his shoulder and carry inside but, the man was big, tall and exacerbated his lower back issues which required a handful of Naproxen with a whiskey chaser. Grimacing from the effort, he realized he was getting too old for things like this

It had been relatively easy to capture them, both Harm and Mac had set out on a run in the early morning and he followed behind at a distance until he felt safe enough to take his mark at a corner where they'd stopped to stretch. From the open window he took a shot, using a pistol with a tranquilizer dart to take down the man first and then the woman who had dropped to his side. He was quick and methodical and used the van seats that were laid back to deposit both bodies for the trip out of Washington.

The Assassin was careful not to be followed, taking a longer trip that needed to the small airfield in Virginia. He was suspicious of every vehicle that came too close and pulled off of the highway at regular intervals to circle around and get back on. He was covered in a fine sheet of sweat, his heart racing when a police cruiser got near and tailed for nearly five minutes before disappearing after it's next mark. He breathed a sigh of relief once he arrived at the hangar and pulled the van through as close to the large office as he could get.

"Move slowly. You're gonna feel like shit for a while." The Assassin spoke in English with only a hint of an accent. Now he stood over the couple, cocking his head to one side while he regarded the man who had begun to wake up first. Despite the heavy sedatives in the drug, the Naval Commander shot up and grabbed him, his large hand wrapping around the Assassins throat with little effort.

Harm mustered whatever strength he had left to slam the man into a wall, grunting from the force that his body had little to give. They wrestled for a bit, his hand tightening farther until he heard the other man gasp out his rank. "Commander...stop."

He blinked several times, sure that his ears were deceiving him while his eyes tried to clear the foggy haze that had settled. His headache, his mind swam and for the life of him, Harm was sure he had officially lost it. Something made him let his guard down, the hand that was one wrapped around The Assassins throat dropped as he let the other man go. He watched, transfixed while he coughed hard and a hand tried to soothe the pain he'd inflicted.

It can't be, Harm thought. The other man looked nothing like the Marine he once knew. This man had darker skin, pigmented from years and years of walking in the desert sun. His hair which was once a dark brown now had a salt and pepper combination that stretched out to the bushy beard that covered his face. There were wrinkles on the edges of his eyes, more on his forehead - worry lines that stretched across roughened skin. If he hadn't spoken Harm would not have recognized him at all and as it was, he was still trying to find the man he once knew and was only evident behind the curve of a smile. "Gunny?"

"Yeah, it's me...long time no see."

Mac's arms came around the former Marine holding him tightly in a bear hug. She felt the tears stinging her eyes and let them fall unchecked. The last time she saw him was in Paraguay amidst the heavy barrage of bullets. He had tried to follow after her, to save her but he had Clayton Webb in his charge, a man he knew needed to be returned back to Langley as soon as possible because there were other lives at stake. She kissed Gunny on one cheek and then the other, holding him tightly again and then turning to Harm who stood by watching their reunion. The younger man was part of their unconventional family and someone Mac would love like a brother for all time. "You saved him, Victor. Harm told me that you came back for him."

"I wasn't going to." Gunny admitted. He needed to get Clay out and hopefully find someone who would aid him in going after Mac. "But, I'm a Marine first and always will be. We don't leave our people behind - alive or dead, he was coming home."

"Thank you."

Gunny's hand dropped down to hers raising it up so that he could see the wedding band glinting in the light. "I hear congratulations are in order. Always thought you two would figure it out someday." Harm had the decency to blush, a light shade of pink tinting his neck and cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair and couldn't help but keep his eyes trained on his wife. "I'm happy for you."

"Were you followed?" Another familiar voice sounded from the entrance to the office as one Clayton Webb walked in sporting his usual three piece suit. He glanced at Harm and Mac, his expression veiled as he stepped out of the shadows.

"No. I took every measure possible. But, we're gonna have to move fast. I don't trust Farid." Victor said as he stepped away from Mac and slumped into a chair. "At best, we have forty-eight hours and after that, I'm pretty sure all hell will break loose. He's not gonna let the Colonel go so easily."

Harm's hand instinctively reached for Mac, grabbing her wrist in a loose hold while he came to stand behind her. "Forty-eight hours for what exactly?"

"For Sarah to go back to Tehran."

"Hah. You're joking right?...No." Mac said without any type of uncertainty. She steeled her spine although part of her body still leaned against Harm's because she needed his strength. Tehran, Nazanin, Farid, it was all part of a dark past she didn't want to be part of any longer. The rememensants were enough to haunt her for many years to come and that, in and out of itself seemed insurmountable when all she wanted was to be Sarah MacKenzie, the woman married to Harmon Rabb. "No."

"Sarah…"

"I'm not going back, Webb." She slipped into Harm's embrace, the strong arms that protected her like a shield. Normally she would have acted alone, been the strong, stoic Marine but this wasn't about her anymore. Mac loved him, needed him and would be damned if they would be torn apart again.

Gunny heaved a sigh. "Ma'am. Farid wants you back, he's sent me to find you. I've been undercover for a few years now."

"You don't understand...I lost my memories. I became someone else and I'm not turning into her again." There were still her feelings for Farid to consider, that mix of emotions that was real for a time because, as Nazanin, she loved that other man. He had kept her safe, somewhat - cared for her in his own way and those were merits that couldn't be erased. What if returning meant falling for him again and losing what she had with Harm? What if she lost herself?

Harm's relaxed his hold, stepping forward with an angered expression as he loomed over Gunny. "What do you mean you've been undercover?" He then turned to Webb when the younger many didn't answer, his expression deadlier with dark eyes and a set jaw. Thoughts of pounding him into a pulp had never been far from his mind and he only controlled the impulse because Clay's selflessness in the Chaco kept Harm alive. "You knew where she was all of this time, didn't you?"

"Harm...it's not that simple. I couldn't get her out not without causing problems bigger than what you could imagine."

"You fucking knew, didn't you?" He practically grew taller standing in front of Webb, the anger making his nostrils flair, his chest heave.

The answer was nothing more than a nod and then Clay deflated onto a nearby chair. He glanced towards Mac who was once so happy to see him, so relieved to know he had survived. She glared back with a look of disgust, her shoulders slumping and her brown eyes turned dark from the anger. "I was in no position to stop anything from happening. You two know that...When I found out that Sarah was being trafficked, it was too late."

It began as a simple assignment to search for Sarah MacKenzie once it was revealed a ship had taken her out of South America and was traveling across the ocean. Rumors of human trafficking had begun to surface once Clay and Gunny returned to Langley and a much more sinister plot besides that of Stinger missiles and the diamond trade. They didn't know about the women that were being snatched while vacationing in areas of South and Central America, it wasn't a lead the CIA was actively following until Mac was taken.

"I want in." Gunny had told Webb once the man was back at Langley, even in the most limited of capacities. "If the Colonel is still alive, I want to find her. We have to find her."

"I think I have a way."

The Assassin had once been a real man, feared and revered amongst many in Iran. He walked in the shadows, his name never spoke but only the alias he'd acquired over a decade ago. He would sell his services of recovery and murder and quietly disappear until needed again. The CIA had captured him two years prior and was being held captive at an undisclosed location, used as a source for several clandestine missions. Now, he would be used again, his likeness to transform one of their own. True, Victor Galindez hardly fit the bill - he wasn't stoky enough, not tall enough and certainly didn't speak Farsi well enough past the bits he'd learned while in Afghanistan. That would all change, he was determined to fit in and not fail.

Rumors were spread of The Assassins return squashing the news that he was either dead or captured. He came back with a fury, several deaths pinned to his new reign of terror until he somehow got the attention of the Ahmadi family - they always needed someone like him at their disposal. It was dumb luck that brought him into the mansion sitting at the opposite end of a long table where Farid and Nazanin sat.

He couldn't be sure at first, it certainly didn't look like the Colonel until the timbre of her laughter caught his ear. She had the most unmistakable voice, even when she spoke in Farsi. At first, Victor believed she was a plant and that her assignment with the CIA had led her to the Ahmadi's for whatever reason. She fit too seamlessly for it to be made up and there was no reason for her to be linked to the agency in any way.

She was well protected, guards following her every move when the mansion was as full of guests as it was. Victor managed an introduction, telling Farid all of the layers of protection that were increasingly needed to plug up gaps in their security. His hand shook when he stood before her, a beautiful peach niqab covering all of her body and a matching headscarf with only an opening for her eyes. They were the same shape and color as the Colonel's, the same kind expression that had made him wish they were the same rank so that he could have pursued her once upon a time. He banished those thoughts at once, knowing there was a Commander back home that would beat him to a pulp if he ever caught wind of his interests for Sarah MacKenzie.

"My wife, Nazanin." Farid introduced him and Victor clamped down on the want to extend his hand and take hers. It would be frowned upon so instead he stood and tersely smiled at the woman, looking for a flash of recognition in her eyes. A wink, a twitch - anything that would alert him that she was undercover that the marriage was nothing more than a rouse. Instead Nazanin stared blankly at him, the look in her eyes showing disdain and fear. She didn't speak to him, only turned to her husband and whispered something in Faris that he scantily caught.

"Why does he stare at me that way?"

Farid simply smiled, the arm that wrapped around her drew her in possessively. He squeezed her lithe form against his body, held her hand a little too tightly so that her knuckles went white from the pressure. "You are desirable, my love. Even by merely seeing your eyes, every man wants to have you. But, you are mine. Only mine and he is here to aid with security. To keep you safe."

Victor's fists tightened at his sides, his mind running away with countless plots to decipher what could have happened to the Colonel. It was clear now that she didn't remember him and any traces of her seemed to have vanished. She carried herself differently, not with that stoicism that made many fear her prowess in the military. Now she acted like a man's possession, eagerly clinging to Farid as if he were her own personal savior. A movement of her arm alerted him to the scars as the niqab shifted and her skin came into view. They were burn marks, healed but raised and bumpy and it angered him to think that someone could have hurt her in such a way.

He swallowed hard, nodding when Farid leaned in and told him to stop looking at his wife. The threat wasn't without merit as seconds later the security team came close, each with a weapon trained on him, trigger fingers at the ready. "She reminds me of a woman I had once. An infidel killed her. I apologize for my behavior, it will not happen again."

"See that it doesn't. Never speak to her. Never look at her… NEVER. Nazanin does not exist to you.""Understood." The men would not meet for two more years when Farid required a specialist to bring Nazanin back home. Victor lived in the shadows, truly taking on the persona he was training to be. Those were dark times of death and lies and blood - his only light was watching over Mac, making sure she was safe until the cavalry came calling, however long that took - they never came.

"All of this time, you knew! You knew where she was and you didn't do a fucking thing?!" Harm yelled, his hands fisting the lapels of Clay's suit as he slammed the director into a wall lined with plane parts. He shook him, slammed him again and again until Mac pressed a hand to his shoulder.

Her touch was like a balm soothing the anger that raged. The longer she stroked his shoulder the more his grip on Clayton Webb loosed until he finally let go with an anguished yell. Harm hadn't expected Mac to strike when he stepped away, her fist breaking his nose. "You son of a bitch."

"Fuck! Jesus Sarah!"

"You left me there! How could you?! All that talk about keeping them away from me. I was taken. Taken after watching the man I love get shot in the chest."

Webb held his nose pinching the bridge and tilting his head back to staunch the flow. His voice was wheezy and nasly and he choked on his own blood a time or two. "An extraction would have been impossible. I tried...I pleaded, was always met with resistance and you didn't remember who you were. I was in no shape to go after you, neither was Harm."

"No, I wasn't but after I recovered, I was." Harm said through gritted teeth. He worked hard to bulk up and create a physique that was much more resilient than before. He would be strong for her, hurt anyone that would stand in their way. "You lied to me. Time and time again you said that Mac could not be found. She could have been killed."

"She knew the risks of coming with me to Paraguay. It was a dangerous assignment."

Mac slugged him again, harder this time, her fist aching from the force of it slamming into his jaw. "Yeah, I knew... but I never signed up to have my memories stolen from me or to give my body to a man thar wasn't my husband."

"I didn't know you were married! If I did, I wouldn't have taken you." Webb braced for another hit, covering his face with his hands while Mac continued to unleash her fury on him. She moved wildly, missing more than connecting until Harm pulled her away. "I'm sorry!"

She sank into Harm's embrace, her head falling down to his chest as she cried. Her sobs echoed in the cavernous office and the only reason she didn't fall was because he held her up. Three, nearly four years of her life wasted, gone with memories washed away, replaced by the thoughts and feelings of another woman she didn't really know.

A lifetime could have passed and she still would have been in Tehran, living as Nazanin, watching her existence melt away until she was either killed or died. Nazanin was happy at times but lived with an emptiness, a hole that couldn't be plugged because the other half of her heart was a World away living with the same feeling of loss. Yes, she signed up for Paraguay but this wasn't part of the plan - hurting Harm wasn't part of the plan and neither was losing herself. "I can't go back. I won't go back."