A/N: Sorry for the long delay in updating. Real-life often gets in the way of writing. You might recognize parts of a scene from the episode In Country. Naturally, I changed it up some.

Breakthrough

Hernandez Beach House
1000 Local

Mac jumped up from the lounge chair, ran to the edge of the deck, and called out. "Harm! HARM!"

A couple of people on the beach looked toward her but the man kept running in the opposite direction. Either he didn't hear her, or it wasn't Harm.

The man looked so much like him. She hadn't been able to see his face, but he was the right height. There was also something familiar about his stride as he ran. For the first time in months, she had hope Harm was alive.

But surely, she would know. She'd found him in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. But since his disappearance, she'd had no premonitions or visions. Maybe her daydream had her imagining the man was Harm.

"Get a grip, Mackenzie. You came here to relax and get some rest so you can go back to work. If you start seeing things, there's no way the admiral will let you return to duty."

Her bikini top slipped a little lower, exposing more of her breasts. She hurried to retie the strings, thankful no one had seen her.

Cursing herself for not having a swimsuit cover and shoes, she went inside the house, having lost the desire to sunbathe.

What would she have done anyway? Follow the man? She imagined having to explain, "I'm sorry, but you look like someone I once knew." Some men would see that as a pick-up line and the last thing she needed, or wanted, was a man in her life.

David's Bungalow
2130 Local

I always know where you are.

The words played in his head like a broken record. It was his voice. He'd said the words to someone. But who?

After his run that morning, he'd returned to the bungalow. All day he'd tried to make sense of his dreams from the night before. Unlike before, the memories didn't cause the severe headaches. That was a good sign.

Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to make progress. But by that night, he was exhausted as he made his way into the bedroom.

The clock read nine-thirty. "Hell, it's only 2130. Why am I tired so early? I used to be able to stay awake with the best of them."

His eyes widened. How had he known that? And why had he used military time? For the second time that day, he wondered if he'd served in the armed forces.

David stripped down to his boxers, then climbed into bed. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

The overhead stars were unlike any he'd seen before. Clear, bright clusters dotted the velvet black sky. The desert night was cold but there was no way he'd never be able see this many stars in a city.

"You know, Mac, the temperature is going to continue to drop. Good thing we can share body heat."

"Yeah, it is. Guess this is one of the perks of being friends with benefits."

"So, we're just friends with benefits, huh?"

She smacked him playfully on the arm. "You know what I mean."

Their lips met in a passionate kiss—tongues dueling, hands caressing. If it wasn't for the fact they were in the middle of the desert…

She pulled away before things got too heated. "As much as I want to continue, guess we'd better keep an eye out on our surroundings."

"I hate it when you're right."

They lay in the quietness for a few minutes.

"Mac."

"What?"

"Do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly. Not many places left in the U. S. Where you can hear absolutely nothing."

The silence was broken by the loud boom of a distant explosion. The sound of aircraft drew nearer as the night skies lit up and all hell broke loose.

David's eyes flew open. He was convinced this hadn't been just a dream. But where had he been, and what was going on with the bombs?

He'd called the woman Mac. For the first time, he'd seen her face. She was beautiful. Olive skin and chocolate-brown eyes.

He'd called her Mac.

But who was she?

CIA Headquarters
1430 Local

Catherine Gale found it difficult to concentrate on the open file lying on her desk. Since her trip with Clayton Webb, and discovering Harmon Rabb was alive, she'd had an uneasy feeling.

Something didn't add up. She couldn't think of a single reason why Rabb would be safer in an obscure Mexican village than he would in the states. There wasn't anyone around to protect him. She'd done some discreet investigating and knew for a fact there was no one working undercover or otherwise in that area.

Webb's reasons for not letting Rabb's friends and family know the truth seemed lame. If he'd been in the witness protection program, his family wouldn't be told he'd died. They simply wouldn't be privy to his location or new identity.

And then there was that "need to know" bullshit. Yes, she knew the importance of keeping certain information classified. But Clayton Webb was known for using that terminology when he didn't want to come clean about something.

Catherine hadn't known the commander well—she'd only worked opposite him, Colonel Mackenzie, and Commander Turner on the Angel Shark incident. But despite being on "opposing sides" she thought all three officers had a great deal of integrity.

She also couldn't help but wonder about the relationship between Rabb and Mackenzie. Neither of them acted unprofessionally during the investigation, showing the utmost military decorum, she couldn't help but notice the chemistry between them. Several times she'd caught them looking at one another and couldn't help but notice they seemed to carry on a conversation without speaking a word.

They definitely had more than a working relationship. How had Colonel Mackenzie reacted to the news of Harm's "death?"

Catherine drummed her pen on the desk. Despite Clay's veiled threats, she'd considered going directly to Kershaw and ask him what was going on. But on the outside chance Webb was telling the truth, she didn't want to risk it. Rumors had been flying around headquarters for months about there being a mole in the agency, although no one had been able to pinpoint who.

Some believed the mole was in a high position. Who was to say it wasn't Kershaw himself? Best not to go that route. There had to be another way…

Picking up the phone, she dialed Webb's office. His secretary answered.

"This is Catherine Gale. I need to speak with Agent Webb please."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Gale. Mr. Webb is out of the country on assignment for two weeks."

Perfect.

Or was it? What if he was with Harm?

"He wouldn't happen to be in Mexico, would he?"

There was a pause on the other end. "No. As far as I know, he's never had an assignment there. Why would you think that?"

"Something he once said. Probably my mistake."

"If he checks in, shall I tell him you called?"

"No, that's okay. It's not that important. I'll talk to him whenever he returns." Catherine hung up the phone, then grabbed her purse. Pausing for a moment at her secretary's desk she said, "Something's come up and I need to be out this afternoon. You can reach me on my cell phone if it's an emergency. Otherwise, I'll see you in the morning."

Catherine hurried to her car and quickly pulled out of the parking lot. She was taking a chance, but her instincts told her she was doing the right thing. Probably would have been a good idea to call ahead, but she didn't want to use the office phone. If there was a mole at headquarters, she couldn't trust anyone.

Catherine pulled her car onto I-495.

Destination. Falls Church, Virginia.