I've been told that you might have to read this chapter twice to figure out "who's on first" so to speak... an observation which I don't doubt. But man was it fun to write lol.
Chapter 7
May 22, 2006
1605 Local
Harm glanced over at the lovely marine colonel asleep on his shoulder in the cramped airline seats. He felt bad keeping her up so late the night before, but after the hours of talking and tears came the comforting, and after the comforting...well, it had been weeks since they'd seen each other. It was to be expected that they'd be a little...needy.
Stopping a passing stewardess he asked how much longer the flight would be.
"Just another fifteen minutes and we should be landing, Sir," she replied in a harried voice, a heated bottle in her hand that one could only assume was for the screaming infant in the back of the plane. With a sympathetic smile, Harm nodded his thanks and let her get back to business.
Turning back to Mac, he couldn't help but imagine that some time soon, it would be them trying to sooth their crying baby on the flight home. Funny how such a small thought, an idea that would make most seasoned parents quake in their boots, could fill him with such giddiness.
He smiled as he thought back to that morning when they dropped their rental off at the Roberts' house on the way to the airport. Bud had already left for work and Harriet was enjoying the last week of school before little AJ was home all day.
"Hey guys!" she had greeted cheerily. "I thought we were getting together this afternoon to talk about the admiral's house. Come on in." She stepped aside to allow them entry. Harm and Mac followed her into the kitchen where she went back to rinsing and loading breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. Both twins were in highchairs with dry Cheerios all over their trays. Cartoons could be heard coming from the T.V. room which no doubt contained Jimmy.
"Actually Harriet, we came to see if we can reschedule," Harm said as he grabbed Nicki's hand to shake it, eliciting a giggle from the little girl. "We may need to put it off for a couple of days."
"Sure, not a problem. Marcia said that we had a couple of weeks, and you guys are here til next Sunday, so we should be okay," Harriet turned around, drying her hands on a towel just as Mac reached out to grab Nate's chubby little wrist before a handful of Cheerios became projectile weapons.
"Oh my GOD!" Harriet all but screamed. Thinking he was in trouble, Nate began howling immediately. "Oh, Mommy's sorry, big guy," she apologized contritely as she reached past Mac and pick her son up out of his chair. Mac's hand was still attached to the baby's arm since the cereal was still clenched in his fist. Grabbing her best friends own wrist, Harriet twisted it, and her son's hand with it, to get a closer look at what she thought she saw. The maneuver allowed Mac to pry the cereal from Nate's little fingers.
Harm watched the whole thing unfold in amusement.
"Is that...are you guys, like, officially...you know!?" Too excited for full sentences, Harriet looked from the diamond solitaire on Mac's ring finger, to Mac, to Harm, then back to the ring. Her head was moving so fast that Harm couldn't help but wonder how she wasn't giving herself whiplash.
Mac hit Harriet with a full-blown smile, freeing the last of the Cheerios. "Harm proposed last night," she said, sounding almost like a gleeful teenager announcing she had a date for the prom. Harriet shrieked again, much like Mac did last night.
Realizing that he wasn't in trouble, Nate's tears disappeared as quickly as they began. Harriet placed him back in his chair and lunged at Mac, squeezing tight. Harm subtly braced himself against the edge of the kitchen table when he saw her turn toward him next. The force of impact did not disappoint.
"I can't wait to tell Bud! Wait, I'll call him right now…."
"Harriet!" both shouted at once. This time Nate and Nicki laughed out loud at the noise.
Turning away from the phone, Harriet smiled ruefully. "Sorry, I just get carried away when it comes to weddings."
"Well, we can't really stay long, we have a plane to catch," Harm explained, not really knowing how to phrase the next piece of information. He really didn't want to be responsible for his best friend's wife's head exploding all over their nice clean kitchen.
"You are NOT planning on eloping are you? Because I know plenty of people who would be more than happy to form a lynching mob and hunt you down," Harriet waved a warning finger in his face and he wasn't all that sure she was joking.
"At ease, Lt." Harm laughed as he put his hand up as if to show he was in no way a threat. "We're not quite sure when we're going to set a date, but you'll be the first to know."
"Was I the first to know this?" Her eyes sparkled with the idea of untold gossip.
"Yes, Harriet," Mac smiled indulgently. "You were officially the first to know. But we really need to leave soon or we'll miss our flight."
"So, if you're not eloping," she looked accusingly at Harm for confirmation; he shook his head emphatically, "then where are you off to in such a hurry?"
Harm and Mac exchanged looks, neither knowing how to begin.
"Well," Mac sighed, "we talked about it a lot last night..."
"And this morning," Harm interjected.
"This is not a decision we've made lightly…."
"It actually took some yelling and tears…."
"Mostly mine I'm afraid," Mac admitted sheepishly.
"And it in no way means that we are giving up trying…."
"Or that we only got engaged to help move things along…."
"No, definitely not," Harm wrapped his arm around Mac's shoulders, forming a united front. "This is something that both of us want."
"And we think we're in a place that we can do that now. It's our time." Mac looked at Harm lovingly, tipping her head up slightly to accept his kiss. Grinning, they turned back to Harriet.
"What in the HELL are you two talking about?!"
"Hell!" yelled Nate
"Oh crap," Harriet sighed and put her forehead in her hand.
"Cwap!" Nicki this time.
Spinning around, she pointed a finger at her youngest children and announced, "You're both grounded til you're thirty," before turning back to Harm and Mac. Finger still sticking out, she directed it at them just as threateningly, arching her eyebrow in a clear message of 'Spill. Now.'
"We're headed to Italy," Harm informed her.
"Italy? I thought Marcia said that there wasn't anything that needed our attention in Italy." Harriet shook her head in confusion. "Does this have something to do with Damnit? Are Tom and Mattie going to take her?"
"Well, yeah," Harm began, "but that's not really why we're going."
"Well I should hope not. They shell out millions of dollars worth of clothing all over the world every year, most of which no normal person would look twice at by the way. You'd think they could pack up one dog and ship it over here."
"Harriet," Mac stopped her friend. "We're going to Italy to bring Francesca's daughter back with us."
"I talked to the lawyers this morning. We shouldn't have a problem formally adopting her. We argued next of kin," Harm gave Harriet a sly smile.
Harriet, for her part, was actually speechless. If someone had knocked on her front door and told her that Martians had landed at the Pentagon and were currently having tea with the President, she wouldn't have been more floored than she was at that moment. A wedding and a baby?
"Wait, wait, wait," she put her hand up and looked from one to the other. "You're going to adopt the admiral's granddaughter?"
"We decided that she needed us. She's family," Mac stated simply.
They left moments later while Harriet was phoning Bud. The last thing heard from the Robert's home before the door shut behind them was, "Bud, are you sitting down...NO I'm not pregnant again!"
Harm and Mac smirked at each other as they made their way to the taxi that would take them to Dulles.
The dinging of the seatbelt signal reminded Harm he needed to wake his lovely fiancée up. They would be landing at Milan Linate Airport any minute.
He bent down to see her face, brushing a few stray strands of hair off her nose before kissing it lightly. "Hey Marine."
"Hmm," she opened her eyes and smiled lazily before a large yawn overtook her features. More awake now, she sat up and stretched before looking around. "We landing?"
"Just a few more minutes." No sooner had he said it, the plane began it's decent. Harm instinctively reached out for Mac to take his hand. She still had a thing about the landings. Smiling gratefully, she clutched his fingers tightly until the plane touched ground. Then, after Harm took a minute to untwist his body, they gathered their carryons and headed for the front of the plane.
It took about an hour to get through customs and pick up their shared suitcase from the baggage claim. Harm held the suitcase and the door for Mac as they exited into the late afternoon sun. Wisely, they chose to stay at the Holiday Inn Linate right next to the airport. With limited knowledge of the Italian language, they managed to check in and make it to their room without much of a fuss.
Harm was just getting off the phone when Mac came out of the bathroom looking very refreshed after their eleven-hour flight and two layovers.
"Well, Albina, Francesca's housekeeper, is expecting us any time. You ready?"
"As I'll ever be. Do I look okay?" She glanced at herself in the mirror, tugging down the bottom of her three quarter sleeved lavender sweater and brushing imaginary lint off her black cotton pants.
"You look like the world's most beautiful mommy," Harm replied as he removed her hand from the hem of her shirt before she pulled it out of shape, and kissed her knuckles. He was rewarded with a dazzling smile.
"Such a charmer. Come on Pops, we have a baby to go meet."
"Pops? Pops!" He followed her out of the door of their hotel room. "How come you get 'beautiful mommy' and I get 'pops'?"
The cab ride to Francesca Peretti's penthouse apartment was a quiet one. Both Harm and Mac were content to sit back and take in the beautiful city, their hands clasped together in the middle of the seat. Upon arriving at the correct address, they were met by the absolute last person in the world they expected to see on this trip.
He was leaning casually against the rod iron railing surrounding the tall apartment complex. When the cab slowed to a stop and Harm helped Mac out of the back seat, he pushed himself upright and headed their way.
"Webb, what in the sam hell are you doing here?" Harm asked irritably.
"Getting puked on by AJ's grandmonster," Webb answered dryly as he came to a stop in front of them. He was sporting a large white stain on the left lapel of his expensive looking suit jacket.
'That's my girl' Harm thought wryly. Out loud he said, "WHY are you here, Webb?"
"Clay," Mac interrupted, "What's going on?"
Webb sighed and looked around as inconspicuously as a trained agent, then looked back at the two. "I'm sort of working on a case."
"I thought you were out of the field," Mac crossed her arms and traded a look with Harm.
"Better question," Harm held up a hand to get everyone's attention, "What does the admiral's daughter's house have to do with a CIA investigation?" He was beginning to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Let's take this inside. As I understand it, you two have someone important to meet." Webb held open the gate for the couple and followed them up the walk, smiling innocently every time Harm turned around to glare at him. "Just be careful not to bounce too much, it can get real messy," Clay said, indicating the lovely spot on his jacket, as the trio disappeared into the massive building.
Harm held Mac's hand on the elevator ride to the top floor of the building. No one spoke and he couldn't decide if it was an uncomfortable silence or not. He could tell by the far away look in her eye as the doors slid shut, that the only thing on Mac's mind was the baby. Webb seemed more concerned with the baby vomit on his lapel than anything else, scrubbing uselessly at it with a handkerchief. Sighing at the weirdness of his life, Harm turned and watched the numbers light up across the top of the car.
Exiting the elevator at the top floor, they were met by a short, rather round woman in her early to mid sixties. She was wearing a long colorful skirt and a matching blouse. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled into a frazzled looking bun high on her head.
"Ah, Mr. Webb, you coma back! And you bring friends. Come in, come in." She ushered the three into the front living room. It was sparsely, yet tastefully decorated. Francesca liked the minimalist look. 'Must be the Navy in her' Harm thought with a sad smile. There were signs of a baby though. One of those travel beds sat in the corner and there was an empty bottle and a pacifier sitting on the coffee table. A colorful play mat was spread out on the floor, complete with arms that arched up from each corner, crisscrossing in the middle, and ending at opposite corners. Different shapes in red, yellow, violet, green and blue were dangling from the appendages.
"Albina," Webb smiled charmingly at the woman, "this is Captain Harmon Rabb Jr. and his fiancée Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. I believe they are here to meet Miss Sophia."
"Of course," she exclaimed excitedly, "you take baby!" Albina gripped Mac's shoulders with surprising strength and pulled her down to kiss one side of her cheek, then twisted her around to kiss the other. Just as swiftly, she turned and grabbed Harm's face, uttered something in Italian and then softly patted his left cheek twice. "I go get Miss Sophia."
When the woman left the room, Mac turned to Webb the same time Harm did.
"How did you know we're engaged?" Mac asked at the same time Harm demanded, "How do you know why we're here?"
Webb just gave them a classic smirk before heading over to the couch, relaxing into the soft cushions and making himself at home.
"Webb, seriously, what's the story here," Harm moved to sit on a love seat facing Webb over a coffee table. Mac continued to roam around the room, looking at pictures and the few pieces of art adorning the walls.
His face taking on a no-nonsense, business like quality, Webb sat forward and pulled out some notes from the case he had with him. "Ever heard the name Greg Mason?"
Trading glances with Mac, Harm shook his head.
"OK, what about Paul Jordan?"
"That's Sophia's father," Mac supplied, moving to perch herself on the arm of Harm's love seat.
"According to Albina, who is a plethora of mostly useless information," Webb rolled his eyes, "he and AJ didn't get along too well. Seems Mr. Jordan was more interested in finding the next big story than he was in being a father, and apparently, he wasn't doing so great at either. He was there for the birth, and had been around once or twice to visit, but he wasn't really involved. The night the car bomb went off, he showed up at Francesca's home to visit with Sophia, and told AJ he needed to talk. Albina says that Francesca went with them to dinner because they had assumed he wanted to talk about the baby, or possibly let them know that he had finally found work," Webb shrugged. "Apparently, they were wrong."
"What do you mean, how do you know that?" The sick feeling in Harm's stomach was becoming stronger. What had the admiral and Francesca walked into that night?
Pulling out an eight by ten photo of an older man in a brown sports coat, he handed it to Harm. "You're looking at Greg Mason, a 'freelance' reporter like Jordan. He contacted our office the day after AJ was killed. According to what he told us, he met Paul Jordan in Algeria the week of February 20th at the Conference for Terrorism Prevention. They got to talking at the hotel bar and Jordan mentioned to Mason that his pregnant ex's father is a retired two star and former seal.
"Two days later at the airport, on his way back to the states, Mason claims an anonymous source hands him an envelope with a picture and some papers documenting a planned attack on US troops somewhere in Libya. The picture was of an Al Qaeda member by the name of Abula Mahlik; the only known picture as far as we can tell." Webb sighed and leaned back against the couch. "He said he felt like he was being followed, so when he ran into his new buddy Paul in the airport bathroom, he stuck the envelope in his carryon, hoping that Jordan would find it and hand it over to his girlfriend's father, the retired admiral. Then he made himself disappear for a while."
"So where is this Mason guy now?" Mac asked, leaning forward a little and resting her hands on the tops of her thighs. "And why did it take so long for Paul Jordan to contact AJ?"
"We don't have a location on Mason. We tracked his call back here to Milan, but the trail goes cold after that. Either he's one paranoid son of a bitch and is still hiding, or he wasn't paranoid enough and he's dead," Webb stated bluntly, "and considering how...abruptly his phone call to us ended, I wouldn't hold out much hope of a happy ending for him." He pulled himself forward again and draped his arms across his knees. "As for Paul Jordan, after listening to Albina go on and on and on about how important his job was to him, I'm starting to get the idea that if he did find it immediately, he was trying to find an angle he could use to advance his career before he turned it over to anyone."
"But he'd be putting American soldiers' lives in jeopardy," Mac replied, her features twisting in disgust. Harm knew what she was thinking. How could someone put his professional life ahead of the lives of the men and women who fight for the freedoms that make his profession possible?
"Well, the attack obviously hasn't happened yet, so maybe when the deadline started to draw closer, he realized he was in over his head, and that's when he contacted the admiral," Harm supplied. He hated all the 'maybes' and 'possiblies'. Unfortunately, no one was left to answer any of the questions still floating around.
"What happened to the documents and picture?" Harm asked suddenly.
"A portfolio matching the description Mason gave our people was found a few feet from what was left of the car. Because the bomb was under the hood, and the folder was, presumably, in the trunk, it was quite charred but still distinguishable." Webb paused, always one for the dramatic flare. "It was empty."
Harm leaned back and rubbed his hand over his mouth a couple of times, letting his mind wrap around the information that had been dropped in his lap. "And we have no idea when this attack was planned for?"
Webb shook his head. "So as you can see, we're on somewhat of a strict timeline. Most likely, they think they've been compromised, and have called it off. However, if they didn't, we could be looking at a deadline a month from now, or tomorrow. Mason didn't get a chance to say, and we have no way of knowing without him or the folder."
They were interrupted by the return of Albina with baby Sophia draped over her shoulder. "So sorry, so sorry!" she exclaimed. "Miss Sophia needed change."
Mac stood up immediately when Albina entered the room, but now she seemed frozen. Harm wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her over to the housekeeper. No one noticed Webb slipping out of the room as the shorter woman handed the baby over to Mac.
"Hi there," Mac said with a teary smile once Sophia was settled in her arms. She ran her hand along the top of the little girl head, which was covered in dark fuzz, rather thick for five weeks old. It looked brown, but remembering Francesca's dark auburn locks, Harm was sure that in the light, Sophia probably had her mother's hair color. Her little eyes, which were wide open, taking everything in, were dark as well. The baby looked at Mac with a crooked smile and blew some spit bubbles at her.
Albina laughed heartily, "She lika you. She know you are new Mommy." Mac looked up from the baby to smile gratefully at the little old woman.
"Thank you," Mac said, her voice cracking slightly.
Harm stared in awe over Mac's shoulder at the little person cradled in her arms. This was it. He was going to be a father. In a couple of days, they'd be headed back to the states with this little tiny baby girl and eventually she'd start walking and talking...calling him Daddy. His already iffy stomach did a quick drop to his feet then bounced back up to his throat. He was a Daddy. Mac turned at that moment and looked up at him, the brightest, most beautiful smile lighting her face.
"Do you want to hold her?" Without waiting for an answer, she deposited Sophia in his arms, helping him to position her tiny head in the crook of one arm with his other hand under her diapered rear. Baby and Captain stared intently at one another.
"Her grandpapa, Mr. AJ, he call her Sophie. He was doting grandpapa," Albina said sadly.
"Hello Sophie," Harm said softly, patting her bottom and bouncing her lightly, remembering Webb's warning from earlier. "I'm your Dad. And this pretty lady," he turned the baby slightly so she was facing Mac, "she's your Mom."
Mac held onto Harm's bicep with one hand and with her other she reached over and let the girl grasp her finger in a tiny fist. "You are so beautiful, yes you are," Mac cooed sweetly, mesmerizing little Sophie with the song like quality of her voice. "And you are going to be the most loved little baby, sweetheart, I promise you." She brought the little fist up to her lips and kissed the delicate fingers.
As Harm watched, he realized that he didn't feel apprehensive like he thought he would when he first felt the weight of the baby in his arms. No, he felt no anxiety. What he felt was complete.
TBC