This chapter was driving me nuts. I kinda don't like it but, some parts were in my head and wouldn't go bye bye until I jotted them down.
We're almost at the end of this one...I MAY have another story in the works... or two... ;) three?

We'll see...

Chapter 38 - Adversaries

April 2002
Harm and Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

Harm leaned against the doorframe that led into the kitchen, his eyes slowly admired the long, tanned legs that seemed to go on forever and disappeared beneath a pair of ripped jean shorts. While not indecently cut, from this angle the view was insanely incredible and he smirked as he recalled those legs wrapped around his waist last night.

His wife stood on top of the counter rummaging through the top shelf that she'd deemed was for knickknacks not often used. She pulled out one thing, then another, moved around a few more and then stopped suddenly. "I can feel you watching."

"Can't help it. It's a nice, nice view."

"Mmm. Help me down?" Mac waved him over and while she intended for Harm to ease her towards the step ladder, instead his hands circled her waist, effortlessly helping her down and into his arms. Almost immediately his lips crashed onto hers, the kiss becoming heated as Harm backed her against the fridge.

He raised one of her legs, urged her to hook it around his hip as their bodies pressed together intimately. Harm wanted her again, the need to join had his mind racing with so many fantasies he had in this very spot - most of which included Mac dressed in an apron and little else. "I want you."

She moaned into his mouth, ran her fingernails through his hair and may have allowed the hand that had traveled under her shirt to cup her breast if her internal clock hadn't begun to blare. "We'll be late."

"So?"

Laughing, Mac brought her leg down and tried to push him away. "Our godson will be terribly upset if we miss the movie. So will Harriet and Bud." They had promised to baby sit and give the couple a break.

"Okay." He leaned against the cabinets and watched as she made herself presentable again. Even jean shorts and a t-shirt Mac was the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. She was smart, funny, had sex appeeal and she was his. His and only his. Mac made him happy, happier than any man had a right to be. "I love you...I don't think I tell you enough."

Despite the blaring of her internal clock Mac slipped back into his arms. Her lips sweetly kissed his while her hands toyed with the Top Gun logo in front of his shirt. "I love you, too and you do say it enough." She wouldn't mention that those three little words made her heart race each time Harm said them, the last thing she wanted was an inflated ego.

"C'mon, flyboy, we gotta go." She took his hand and tugged him out of their kitchen while twirling his Lexus' keys on one finger.

….

Harm woke with a start to a bed that was empty and cold - signs she had left him far too long ago with nothing but memories or maybe she didn't really exist? Harm had dreamt of her before, vivid dreams brought to life in his mind as an effort to rid his body of the pain.

And there was pain; not as much as four years ago but enough of an ache to cause discomfort.

Harm's head was pounding as well, his face felt like ground beef and he was positive most of his ribs were bruised. But he was alive. Alive and his sheets smelled of her which was reason enough to know that Mac was real and living this nightmare alongside him.

It took an act of God to sit and haul himself out of bed. If he hadn't needed to relieve himself, Harm might have just laid there forever and waited for whatever came next. The more he moved, the easier it became until he ambled around the expansive bedroom suite to peer out one of the windows.

"Damn you, Webb." He said out loud realizing the director may have been correct in suggesting Harm wait. This situation was far from being easily resolvable and he was no closer to rescuing Mac than he had been when in an act of desperation, he broke into the compound with an ill equipped plan. "Fuck." Lord forgive him, he was a loose cannon heavily driven by emotions that he couldn't taper down.

He wasn't searching for his father this time or avenging an ex lover - there was no pause to consider the consequences and no one to talk him down. As far as Harm was concerned, he tasted death once already; died out in the middle of the Chaco and was brought back for one purpose: to never stop until his wife was safe. He wouldn't. He couldn't because the part that kept his sanity in check lay in her hands.

Yes, he was in pain and used it as a resolve to get moving and formulate another ill thought out plan. He would find a way out, kill anyone who stood in his path with his bare hands if needed - the rage and anger inside would allow that kind of savagery. The waiting game he played for nearly four years had caused an insane ire to rise inside of him, as close to impervious as could be and Harm wanted the blood on his hands, whatever it took to free his lover.

He made a grimace as he put on the clothing from last night. They were still wet, still filthy but he wasn't about to take on the World wearing a bathrobe and a towel. He'd use that distaste to fuel even more anger. So he walked through the large room to the windows which led to a massive balcony that wrapped around the second level of the house. His injured eye teared from the sunlight but Harm was able to open more of it this time, although his vision was still hazy. Through the curtains he saw movement, a lanky guard, walking back and forth holding a small rifle in his hands. The man was skinny, clearly not a seasoned warrior and Harm knew that he could be subdued given his own bulkier size and frame.

He'd been working out constantly since recovering from his wounds, evident on the twenty extra pounds of solid muscle that filled him out. The guard stood no chance when he quickly grabbed him from behind and put him in a choke hold. He dragged the man into the room, dropped him on the sofa and took the shemagh which he wrapped around his own head.

Next he cleared the weapon, put one into the chamber and made his way down the balcony peeking in through every opening he could in hopes of finding Mac. Her room was on this very floor, just a few doors away - she had told him and the more he walked, the louder his heart drummed in his ears. She was close, so close. He would find her and they would escape together. Together because with her by his side, they were invincible.

It was the commotion in the opposite direction that made him stop, sounds of yelling and things being shattered. Two men were arguing and one of the voices sounded so eerily familiar that Harm took pause and hid behind one of the pillars that held up the third level. From his vantage point he could barely see but heard more arguments in Farsi, the familiar voice one he couldn't quite pinpoint. Then, just as quickly as the argument began it ended and his heart began to pound. He needed to move and move fast.

The doorknob twisted and opened, a sign that someone above was aiding his crusade. The beating of his heart grew exponentially as did the blood lust in his veins that begged to be sated by him emptying every last round into the man that stood in the center of the room with his hands on his hips taking stock of the broken lamp in the center of his office. "Don't you fucking move."

Farid turned towards the intruder, the menacing voice causing a chill to run down his spine. With shock he looked around and found he was all alone. All alone with an armed man poised to shoot him. All alone because his guards had slipped out of his office moments ago following someone else's orders. At first glance, he figured another guard had betrayed him but when his eyes locked on Harm, he realized the intruder was the same man who took his wife from him several weeks ago.

"Don't kill me, please." He raised his hands in surrender, unsure of the measures the crazed American would take to steal his woman away yet again. He shook as the man neared him and took several steps backwards stopping only when his legs hit the back of his desk. "I promised my wife that I wouldn't hurt you. I don't know the kind of man that you are but I do keep my promises."

Harm kept the rifle trained on his nemesis while biting his inner cheek to concentrate on anything other than the pain radiating from his ribs with each ragged breath that he took. "What's the matter? You not so tough anymore? No guards to hold me down while you take cheap shot after cheap shot?"

"I was protecting Nazanin...My wife that you chose to take against her will."

The air of possessiveness in Farid's tone snapped something inside of Harm who used the butt of the rifle to slam into the man's midsection making him drop to the ground. "She's my wife. My wife...We married almost four years ago and it was a series of stupid events that took her away from me. She's my wife...mine and not yours."

A fist slammed into Farid, the hit so hard he nearly blacked out. He curled into the fetal position, protecting himself from another attack. He was gasping for air, wheezing as he came to his knees and Harm delivered another blow, this time to his ribs which he was sure would have snapped. "Stop...please...stop!"

As Harm wound up for another punch something made him stop. He wanted to beat Farid to death and wanted to see the crimson flow from beneath a lifeless body. It was the sound of sobbing, the disgusting blubbering from the man curled up on the ground that forced him to cease. This wasn't a real man who could take the licks he deserved but a coward. Farid Ahmadi was a coward who hid behind women to save himself. A coward that hurt his wives and kept Mac captive in her own mind. Nothing but a pathetic coward and the murderous intent faded as he glared at the man on the ground begging for him to stop.

"Get up." His voice was rough and harsh, disdain dripping from each syllable as he punctuated each word. "Get. Up. Now." He snorted as Farid slowly stood with a rivulet of red flowing out of his right nostril.

….

Harm had checked the doorway multiple times, expecting a guard to come in blasting at any moment. Surprised that they were completely alone, he allowed Farid to clean the bloody nose in the adjoining bathroom and settle himself on a seat in the living area. The man's face was red, bruises would cover it soon but it wouldn't look nearly as bad as Harm who's face had a purplish hue on one side.

He paced like a caged lion, biting back a wince as the adrenaline was gone and the pain hit him full force. He was breathing hard, sweating profusely and only stopped when he heard Farid speak. "You may put that gun down. Whatever you may think of me...You can trust me, I am on her side."

"Trust, huh?" That was the last thing Harm intended. Instead he trained the rifle to the center of Farid's head and toyed with the desire to pull the trigger. "You want my trust? Then bring her here and arrange safe transport for the two of us out of this godforsaken place."

"I can not do that. It's not safe for Nazanin anywhere outside of this home."

Harm cringed. Dear God, he never wanted to hear that name again as beautiful as it sounded. It wasn't Mac, it wasn't Sarah but a woman that was practically created for reasons he would rather not entertain. "Her name is not Nazanin."

Farid's lips curled into a grin, his eyes locked onto Harm's and that elitist flair rose in him. He settled comfortably into his chair acting like Harm was a servant and not a man holding a weapon towards him. "And what am I to call you? Nazanin spoke your name once but I do not recall it."

"My name is Harmon Rabb...But you can call me by my rank: Commander." Harm's eyes narrowed as if he finally noticed the Iranian was speaking to him in perfect English. The accent was even hard to pinpoint and sounded almost British but not quite. "You speak english."

"Yes, very well. As I told Nazanin, I was in an Ivy League college because my father felt I needed to study my enemies first hand. I can't say I don't miss some parts of America but, this is my home. My home with my Sweet Nazanin."

Nazanin. The name made Harm's blood boil and in a fit of untempered rage he backhanded Farid as hard as he possibly could. "She's not Nazanin. Her name is Sarah. Sarah MacKenzie and she's a in the Marine Corps. You'll address her by her rank or not at all."

Farid held the side of his face, the strike was sudden and painful but rather than cower this time, he spit the blood that accumulated in his mouth and glared up at the irate Commander. "Why are Americans so violent? Do you really think you are the kind of man that she needs?"

"At least I don't beat up innocent women. And I sure as shit don't intent to rape them if they don't sleep with me."

The man seemed hurt at Harm's words, his face fell ashened and saddened as if he were thinking about his actions and was disgusted by them. "Nazanin is stubborn. She is willful and often infuriating. I don't enjoy what I have done to her, no matter what she believes."

"She says otherwise, that you like hurting women. And I saw you in Paris, remember? I saw you hit her. I stopped you from hurting her worse."

"Haven't you hurt her, Commander?"

Harm froze, the question made him stop the errant pacing and their own history played in his head like snapshots he wished never to remember. "If you need me there to make it work, then maybe you should reconsider who you're marrying." He had hurt her, emotionally and it was those kinds of wounds that were often difficult to recover from. And he hurt her again by omitting his investigation into Singer's child and refusing visitors so that Mac wouldn't come see him at the brig. "We've had many misunderstandings in our relationship and I will spend the rest of my life atoning for them if she gives me the chance."

"As will I, if given that chance...I suspect I know this answer - do you know of a man named Sadik Fahd?"

Of course he did, the man was top on his list of people to eviscerate if he ever had the chance. "Yes. Sadik kidnapped Mac and tortured the man she was working with. She was nearly tortured herself, he put her through hell and sold her… some sort of human trafficking which led her here."

Farid nodded, his face falling slightly. "My uncle is a very powerful man but he wants more. As such powerful men need powerful allies and Sadik Fahd is such an ally who is willing to do things we politicians cannot. Sadik will help him if my family can facilitate bringing in weapons from your country and parts to make our F-14s whole."

"The United States isn't going to negotiate with anyone, you know that."

"My uncle believes they will. Or at least, that Sadik Fahd will find a way."

Harm dropped into a chair, his hands gripped the rifle so hard his knuckles went white. He now understood why Webb wanted Sadik so badly and it had nothing to do with avenging the terrible things that were done or the permanent disability he would forever live with. This was bigger than him, bigger than his need to find Mac. Christ, what had they gotten into now? "Why was she brought here?"

"As a play thing for my uncle, the idea of having an American military officer succumb to his desires was alluring. I rescued her, Commander. It was the only good thing I've ever done in my life. I rescued her and gave her a life." He spoke of the crash, the one that had sobbered him and had Farid diving into an overturned, burning vehicle. He spoke of the hospital Nazanin was taken to and how one look into her eyes forced him to fall and fall hard for a woman he didn't know. "Sadik did not know that Nazanin lived at first until he saw her at a party. She did not recognize him and yet, she feared him. I knew I had to keep him away from her...Do you know of a man called The Assassin?"

Gunny - the thought of the Marine betraying Mac was far too outrageous and yet, Clay was sure. Even the auditory evidence was damning to say the least. He still couldn't believe that man could betray them, it wasn't in his nature to do so no matter who Webb claimed he was trying to avenge. "I do. He's a Marine, a... friend."

"A friend who has turned his back on you, Commander? I fear that man will do terrible things to Nazanin. He was here moments before you broke in, threatening to hurt her if I don't comply. I have my guards surrounding her rooms now but I know he will return."

"What does he want?"

"Diamonds, I believe." He made to stand, waited for Harm to allow him and then walked across the office to a portrait that hung behind his desk. Farid moved it aside, punched in a series of combinations into a lock and cracked the hidden safe. There were stacks of money inside, different currencies from what Harm could tell by the different colors. Alongside the bills were small velvet bags cinched with a tiny gold rope, all of which held millions of dollars of diamonds, a currency that was far easier to transport than drugs or cash. "It's a secret my family knows nothing about except I allowed the Assassin to see this when I hired him to search for her. I hadn't realized his alliance was with Sadik. I didn't realize I put my wife in such danger; my sweet, sweet Nazanin."

Harm found it odd how the same man that willingly beat her in the streets of Paris could also say her name with such reverence. The duality was an odd combination and he wondered how far the man's affinity stretched. "The way you say that name, it sounds like a man in love."

"I do love her."

"Then set her free. Let her go. Let her come home."

"This is Nazanin's home. She may have been born in America but has Iranian blood. This is her home, her real home. She is much more a part of Iran than she is of America."

"No." Harm stood, the anger that had tapered was beginning to rage again. He held the rifle tightly to his chest and fought the urge to point the barrel at Farid. "You're wrong. She doesn't belong here. She has friends, family...me. She has me and she has to come home."

"What if I asked her to choose? Would she choose you and her old life? Would she choose me and her new life?"

As much as he wanted to trust Mac, to believe she would come with him, Harm wasn't sure. At the cabin they'd blissfully forgotten the outside World at times but there were still memories and conversations about her life as Nazanin that scared Harm.

She didn't hate Farid. Part of her held some affinity for him that finally made some sense. He'd rescued her from a burning car, kept her away from Sadik for the last few years. His brand of love was awkward and harsh but he loved her just the same. What pained Harm the most was knowing Farid had spent more time physically married to her than he did. Their time together was far too brief and it hurt so badly that there were facets to his wife that he hadn't yet unraveled. Had Farid? Had whatever they shared been so profound Mac couldn't fully shake him off?

"You hesitate. That means you are as unsure as I am… It's just as well... May I show you something else?" Off of Harm's nod, Farid went to his desk where he pulled out a paper that contained some sort of drawing. The edges were tattered and tape held the torn pieces together. "Did you know that Nazanin can draw?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. She has the most skilled hand." He looked at the drawing and his lips twisted into a frown. "I purchased drawing pencils, sketch pads, anything she needed. At first she would draw flowers, fruits, random items. All so very beautiful."

It was one of the other wives that alerted him to the more intimate pieces, the blue eyes of a man so lifelike it was clear they'd known one another. Farid was given cause to worry because he'd seen those eyes before and so had Nazanin. Carefully he flipped the sheet over and held it up for Harm to see. A myriad of expressions played across the Commander's bruised face. "These angered me so very much because I knew...I knew that somewhere inside she was thinking about another lover."

"Did she love him? Did she think of him? Did she dream of him? Was he the reason she sometimes did not want my touch? Was her mind with him when she was with me?" He handed the drawing to Harm who held it with the tips of his fingers as if gripping it may damage it farther. Farid noted the man's eyes, the way tears brimmed but didn't fall, the furling of the brow and the heavy sigh. "This is you. With me, she remembered you."

The drawing depicted his grayish blue eyes like that of a rolling sea. The expression is smoky, seductive and almost haunting. Every line of his brow, even the slight crinkle of his eyes were designed to seem so lifelike Harm knew that's what she saw when he looked at her with desire. There was intimacy in his expression - a window to the soul that may have begun to crack the mental vault Nazanin held Mac in.

"Maybe she thinks of me when she is with you, Commader?"

"No. She doesn't think of you when we're together. She wants to forget you, forget this life that isn't hers and she can't because each time she closes her eyes the hell you put her through lives on."

Farid regarded Harm's comment for a moment and then merely shrugged it off as insignificant. He knew his Nazanin would never leave Iran. He knew his Sweet Nazanin was faithful despite whatever this infidel had tried to plant into her mind. "She drew so much more. One was a beautiful red rose that had a blue ribbon wrapped around it's stem."

"And the ribbon tied around two silver wedding bands." Off the man's knowing glare, Harm nodded. "She drew that for me...we met at a rose garden. Our rings are silver." He pressed his hand against his chest, feeling at the rings still dangling from his dog tags that went everywhere with him. It was that one part of Mac he would never let go.

"Back at the museum, I shouldn't have let you take her. I should have fought but instead I covered myself like a coward and did nothing to protect her. I should have fought...I should have…"

"I was prepared to kill for her that day. You would have died."

"Then why didn't you just shoot me then and there?"

Harm sighed, that was the question he had asked himself countless times. It was a regret that was filed away with so many other regrets in regards to Mac. "It would have caused problems for our country and I didn't want that. We knew you wouldn't have made a scene because she was an American military officer and it would have brought Hell down on you if anyone discovered her true identity… But, I'm still prepared to kill for her."

"I don't expect you to understand our complex relationship. I have crude desires, none of which I exacted on her because I love her."

"Then help me save her. Help me get her the hell out of here and to the nearest US Embassy where she will never be hurt."

Farid let out a deep breath and began to pace. "My home is being watched and your intrusion last night was not taken lightly. The Assassin, Sadik, they believe I have killed you but, if they find that you are alive, our situation is dire...They know about the men living at a mansion in Tehran - the CIA and military that pretend to be Muslim but are not. Your friend, the Assassin, has been in contact with them in the past. He knows their movements and is biding time so that when they attack, it will all be over. Nazanin is nothing more than a piece of meat being dangled so that Sadik returns for her."

"Bait. I know which is why she returned here."

"And you, as her so called 'husband' allowed this?"

"I had no choice. As you said, she is willful...I even hit her, bruised her to make it look like…" Harm didn't want to continue because it meant remembering how his fists felt as they crunched into her body. He didn't want to recall Mac asking him to hit her again and again, to make it look good. He tightened his fist and stared down at the white knuckles and another mistake he needed to atone for. "We knew each other for eight years before I proposed. We married on Christmas Eve 2002 in a small town church. I have loved her for longer than anyone could possibly imagine. I will love her until the day I die."

"A small church? Our wedding was grand, nearly the whole city in attendance. Nazanin had on a lovely dress and I showered her with as many jewels as possible. She was radiant, beautiful and I didn't expect for her to want me as fast as she did but when she finally gave herself to me, she took a part of me with her."

The thought of their wedding, as small as it was compared to Farid and Nazanin made Harm feel oddly inadequate. He had rushed through the proposal, barreled along their engagement and he'd practically coaxed her into a marriage. It had been small and intimate and for the life of him and their haste to keep everything secret, he wondered if he'd done her wrong somehow? Mac had stated she didn't want the big opulent wedding but, didn't all girls dream of that? "Mac is simple. She would have hated all of that pomp and circumstance."

"As did Nazanin...What are we going to do, Commander? We are, as they say, at an impasse...I won't let her go and neither will you."

"I'm not leaving here without her." The rifle came up and Harm aimed it at Farid's head. "You better figure it out real fast."

"I can have my guards kill you. That will undoubtedly end your crusade."

"Do it...Because I will die happily knowing she will hate you forever."

Whatever retort Farid could have come back with, even the desire to yell for his guards was interrupted by his office door being thrown wide open. Through it walked the man known as The Assassin, still sporting the heavy beard and longer hair that hid his true identity. He had two guards with him each holding an AK-47. Both men immediately trained their weapons on Harm who could only drop his weapon and glare at the man he one called a friend. "Commander, fuck you have more lives than a cat."

"Gunny, whatever this is...you're a Marine first. You took an oath."

Victor laughed. "I found I'm significantly better at this than marching along to Uncle Sam's pathetic orders."

Harm dropped his hands to his side and began to slowly make his way towards the former Marine. "This won't bring Fareeza back."

"This has nothing to do with Fareeza...These people make sense. Do you know how many innocent people our country has killed? We're not any better than them. Here, I matter. Here, I am like a God to them."

"With a fake persona made up by the agency?" Harm snorted. "This man isn't you...You cared for Mac, defended her. Hell, you came back for me...What the hell happened to all of that Semper Fi shit the corps ingrained into you? Leave no man behind?"

"There is no such thing anymore...I changed and I never want to go back. And I'm not sorry." Gunny spoke in Farsi, his voice harsh and menacing as he told the men to aim at Harm and shoot. "I liked you, sir. You were one of those officers who gave a damn about the Enlisted. You respected us. I'm sorry it had to come to this but, I know you won't stop unless I put a bullet in you...Fuck, I never should have gone back for you that day in the Chaco."

"Fine." Harm raised his arms akimbo and stared directly at the former Marine. His eyes went dark, almost as black as obsidian as he motioned for Gunny to continue. "But, you do it don't order someone else."

Farid could only stare between both men, his eyes widening at the bravery he found in Harm, the man who was not a coward like him. He understood now how Nazanin could turn and find someone to love in America,his bravery was foolish, yes but incomparable. "Wait! He poses no threat to you. My wife no longer remembers him. She fears him. My sweet Nazanin wants nothing to do with him."

"I don't care." The former Marine pulled out a pistol from a holster beneath his sports jacket in what appeared to be slow motion. His arm extended, elbow locked as he pointed the gun at Harm. But, that wasn't enough, he'd seen the man nearly killed and recover just a few months later from wounds that would have ended anyone else. This time, he would make sure the Navy man would breathe no more. Victor walked forward, not stopping until the barrel was pressed firmly against the center of Harm's chest. "Point blank...It was an honor serving with you, sir."

He'd begun to pull the trigger, the warmth of the metal beneath his palm was oddly comforting. But something made Gunny hesitate but a brief moment, a sharp ache at the small of his back followed by the odd feeling of his skin behind ripped and torn. "What?" Frothy blood spewed from his lips, the gun at his hand slipped and dangled from his index finger as he fell to his knees and crumbled to the ground.