Friends and Enemies - BetweentheLines_Archivist (2024)

19:15 EST
LATE SEPTEMBER 2009
SATURDAY NIGHT
HOME OF CLAYTON WEBB & TERRI COULTER

Harm and Mac parked in the driveway, as Terri had instructed them, and they,
along with Sergei and Chloe, got out of the car to knock on the door.

"It's open!" Terri called.

They entered the house and all were hit with a wave of soft classical music
and the warm, comforting smell of the meal that awaited them. Webb's mother
was in town, and Terri thought it would be nice for her to meet their his.
Also, Sturgis was leaving JAG to captain a submarine in the Atlantic Fleet,
and the dinner party would serve as a nice sendoff for him as well.

A very frazzled Terri came out of the kitchen in sweatpants and a T-shirt,
with her hair in a bun.

"It smells wonderful, Terri," Harm said.

"Thanks." Greetings and kisses on the cheek went around. "Here, let me take
your jackets."

"That's okay," Harm said, approaching the coat closet. "I'll get them."

"Thanks," she smiled. "I've got three things on the stove I shouldn't take
my eyes off of.

"Where's Clay?" Mac asked. "Shouldn't he be helping you?"

"Oh, he is - believe me. He took his mother to an exhibit at the sculpture
gallery. Getting her out of my hair is the best help he could've given me.
I'm a control freak in the kitchen, and if she were here, all she'd do is
give me grief about the way I cook. This one's too spicy, that one's not
spicy *enough*. Forget about it."

"Then, at my own risk," Mac asked, "is there anything I can do?"

"I don't suppose you know how to fold linen napkins into swans?"

Mac laughed. "Sorry. The Marine Corps failed to teach me that one."

"Right. Well, actually, if you really don't mind, there's an ironing board
set up in the laundry room. You could run upstairs and grab the blouse
that's laid out on the bed and give it a quick once-over."

"Sure, no problem."

"Thanks. The cooking's taking me longer than I thought. I'll barely have
time to change as it is."

Mac went upstairs to find the blouse. "Harm, Sergei, Chloe, please, make
yourselves at home. Can I get you anything?"

Sergei answered, "No, but we have something for you." He handed her two
bottles of wine, one red and one white. "We weren't sure what you'd be
serving, so we brought both."

"Oh, that's perfect! Y'know, I never understood that whole 'red wine with
beef, white with poultry and seafood' thing. I say, put both out and let
people choose what they like. Let me get the chiller for the white."

Harm continued hanging everyone's jackets while Chloe and Sergei followed
Terri into the kitchen. She put Sergei to work filling the wine chiller with
ice, and she went into the dining room to work on the napkins.

"I can help with those," Chloe said. She took one of the cloths and
proceeded to fold it into an intricate swan.

Sergei came into the room and placed the wine at the end of the long dining
table. His jaw dropped when he saw his girlfriend's handiwork.
"I didn't know you could do that!"

"I've got a lot of talents you don't know about yet," she teased, winking at
him.

Terri smiled brightly. "You kids are adorable together." She said more
quietly, "Harm and Mac still giving you a hard time?"

"They're getting over it," Chloe said. "It used to bother us that we didn't
have their support, but then we realized - we love them, but we love each
other more."

Sergei smiled and kissed Chloe's cheek. "No one should stand in the way of
love. Not even family."

"Wise words," Terri said, and she continued folding napkins. It was
certainly food for thought for her, considering Mrs. Webb's disapproval of
her relationship with Clayton.

When the napkins were done, Terri had Harm help her place some of the food
into elegant serving dishes.

"Terri, you've really outdone yourself," Harm said. "The table looks
gorgeous." She had set places for eight with fine china and delicate
wineglasses. A mix of colorful fresh flowers served as an eye-catching
centerpiece, and many candles bathed the room in a soft, inviting light.

"Thanks. I don't know why I'm working so hard to impress this woman. I even
put all those stupid fancy forks and spoons in the right order."

Harm chuckled. "She can't be that bad."

"Worse. She's like a drill instructor, except she's got no real authority
over me."

"Then don't let her get to you. You planned a beautiful evening, and that's
exactly what we're all going to have." He continued covering some of the
dishes so the food would stay hot until it was ready to serve. "Man, this
smell is making my mouth water. I can't wait to eat."

"Well, no more peeking through the pots and pans. I have a surprise for you
and you'll ruin it."

Just then, Mac came into the kitchen. "One blouse, no wrinkles. It's on a
hanger on the bedroom door."

"Oh, bless you, Mac. I'm so sorry to have asked you to do that. I should've
had everything ready before any guests arrived and I could've met you at the
door with my makeup on and a tray of hors d'oeuvres."

"Terri, don't be silly. You don't have to impress us," Mac said.

"Yeah," Harm added. "We're happy to help."

"Okay," Terri said, taking a quick look around the kitchen. "I think
everything's ready. Now I just need to get changed before Clay and his
mother get here."

Suddenly, the front door to the house opened and Terri could hear Clay's
voice in the other room. "Oh great. No such luck," she muttered. "I wish we
had a back staircase. Or a trapdoor."

"Come on," Harm encouraged. "Just say a quick hello and then you can get
upstairs."

They all went into the living room, where Clay was helping his mother off
with her coat. She wore an elegant suit with a short strand of pearls and
matching earrings. She caught sight of Terri wearing the baggy, comfortable
sweatpants and T-shirt she'd worn while cooking and cleaning all day.

"Oh, Terri, honey, surely you're not wearing *that*!"

Terri swallowed. "No ma'am. Heading upstairs to change right now."

"Yes, I should say so."

"Clay," Terri said, "would you please make the introductions while I make
myself presentable?"

Webb nodded. "Mother, this is Harmon Rabb, Junior."

"Please, call me Harm," he said, shaking her hand.

"This is Sarah Mackenzie Rabb, Chloe Madison, and Sergei Zhukov. Everyone,
my mother, Marilyn Webb." They exchanged handshakes and pleasantries.

"Zhukov, is that a Russian name?"

"Yes ma'am," Sergei replied.

"My husband and I spent a lot of time between Moscow and Odessa. Quite a
lovely part of the world."

Sergei smiled. "Yes ma'am, it is. I've always thought so."

"Please excuse me everyone, while I go powder my nose."

Just after Mrs. Webb went upstairs, Sturgis appeared at the front door. It
was still open, so he knocked lightly and then let himself in. "I hope I'm
not too late," he announced as a hello.

"Sturgis, Webb said, not at all. I just brought Mother here, in fact."

"Well, I can't wait to meet her. Anyone who could put up with you for so
many years has got to be one tough lady."

"Oh, she is, but not how you think."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'll give you all a warning and leave it at that. She is in rare form
tonight. Rare form."

"You wanna be a little less cryptic there, Webb? Not all of us have twisted
CIA minds to decode that," Mac said.

"And thank God," Harm joked.

"Look, I love my mother, but quite frankly, she was born without that part
of the brain that filters her words before they come out of her mouth. She
means well, but she's very old-fashioned. I'm telling you in advance,
please, *please* don't take any of it personally."

"Jeez Webb," Harm said. "You're starting to make me wish I'd worn a
bulletproof vest."

"Me too," Mac added.

Webb shook his head. "They'd be no use. What she says can do worse damage."
He took a deep breath and clapped his hands together. "Now please, make
yourselves comfortable. Can I get anyone a drink?"

"Nothing for me," Sturgis said.

"Whatever beer you have handy," Harm answered.

"Same for me," Sergei replied.

"Mac," Webb said, "I've got a strawberry sparkling water with your name on
it."

"Hey!" Chloe complained. "What about me?"

"You can have what I'm having, smarty pants," Mac said.

"Oh, come on."

"How old are you?" Webb asked her.

"Almost twenty."

"Close enough. You look like a white zinfandel girl to me."

"That'd be great. Thanks."

Webb went to get the drinks while everyone found a seat in the living room.
Sturgis stepped away and found a decorative mirror on the wall to adjust his
tie. As he was doing that, Mrs. Webb came downstairs.

"Oh, there you are! Finally. Would you please fetch me some brandy?"

Sturgis turned toward her and was speechless for a moment. "Uh, I'm sorry
ma'am, I think you've mistaken me for--"

"Mother!" Webb interrupted, rushing out of the kitchen after hearing what
she said. "This is *Captain* Sturgis Turner, a good friend of mine." His
eyes flew to Sturgis, as he tried to convey his horror and a silent apology.

"Oh my heavens! How terribly rude of me. Captain, I'm so sorry," she said,
extending her hand.

Sturgis smiled, graciously dismissing the incident. "No problem ma'am. In
fact, it takes me back. No one's expected me to wait on them since I had
mess duty as a punishment at the Academy."

"An Annapolis man!"

"Yes ma'am, Harm too."

"Really? You know, I wanted Clayton to go to one of the service academies. I
always did love those uniforms."

"Well, don't dwell on it, ma'am. Your son does very important work."

"Yes, he does, but it's not as glamorous as putting on those dress whites."

"If you can call living in a steel tube with a hundred other men, eating
canned food and not seeing the sun for weeks at a time glamorous."

"Sturgis is leaving next week to captain a submarine, mother," Webb said.

"Oh! Well, congratulations, Captain. That's quite a responsibility."

"Thank you ma'am, and please, call me Sturgis."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few minutes later, the guests were all settled with their drinks, and
Terri came downstairs, dressed for the evening in a floor-length black skirt
and a violet colored blouse that brought out her stunning blue eyes. Her
long blonde hair was partially up in a jeweled clip and she looked nothing
like the frantic hostess she was just a short while before.

As she walked across the room toward the kitchen, everyone's head turned and
the sudden silence caused her to stop. "Is something wrong?" she asked, a
little nervous. Maybe there was a run in her stocking she hadn't noticed.
Maybe she was dragging toilet tissue on her shoe.

"Not at all," Webb said, smiling at her. "I think you've taken everyone's
breath away."

Harm nodded his agreement. "You look beautiful, Terri."

"Like a sparkling amethyst," Sturgis said.

Terri was speechless. A bright smile spread across her face. "You guys are
too much, but thank you. I'll be right out with some hors d'oeuvres." Webb
followed her into the kitchen, and before she could pick up a tray, he
grabbed her from behind, his hands on her waist, pulling her back against
him.

"No fair," he said.

"Hmm?"

He whispered seductively in her ear. "No fair looking so good when we have a
houseful of people and I can't do anything about it."

"Claaay," she blushed.

"What?" he pouted. "It wasn't my idea to have this party. If it were up to
me, I'd have you pinned to that dining room table right now and be doing
ungodly things to every gorgeous inch of you."

"Stop," she whispered, "or you'll make me want that too, and I don't think
that would go over too well with our friends. Not to mention your mother."

Clay kissed Terri's neck roughly, and then smoothed over the spot with more
gentle moves. She whimpered softly. "Now who's not being fair?"

"You just wait until later," he teased. "I don't suppose we could send
everyone home with a doggie bag, *right now*?"

Terri let out an unsteady breath. "No, but I'm holding you to that 'later'
deal."

"Count on it."

Reluctantly separating themselves, Clay and Terri brought the hors d'oeuvres
into the living room. Terri asked Chloe about school.

"Well, I'm looking forward to going back, especially this year. I've
finished all the core classes and prerequisites, so now I'll be able to take
some more involved classes."

"And you like New York?"

"Oh yeah, I love it. But then again..."

Sergei held her hand. "It will be hard being so far apart."

"Well," Sturgis spoke up, "strong relationships have survived far worse
things than a little distance."

Tell me about it, Harm and Mac thought simultaneously.

"Teresa," Mrs. Webb said, "this salmon mousse, is this Atlantic or Pacific
salmon?"

"Atlantic, I think."

"I find the Pacific is so much richer in flavor. You might want to try that
next time."

I also might want to try wringing your neck, she thought, biting her tongue.
Instead, she smiled calmly. "I hadn't heard that, but yes, maybe next time."

Mac sensed Terri's growing frustration and did her best to ease it. "Well,
these are wonderful the way they are, Terri."

"Yes, delicious," Sergei added.

Sturgis agreed. "I'm going to miss fresh seafood on the sub. Y'know, it's
funny. I'll be surrounded by fish, yet the closest I'll get to any of it is
canned tuna."

"Are you all in the service?" Mrs. Webb asked. Harm, Mac, Sturgis, and
Sergei nodded.

"Well, it was the Russian Army for me, but not anymore."

"The Red Army?!"

"Uh, no ma'am. When I joined, it was just the army. The 'red' was all but
gone."

"And it was about time," Mrs. Webb insisted. "When I think of all this
country's money, and all our boys that went into fighting that communist
nonsense--"

"So, Mac!" Webb interrupted, "How are the kids?"

"The kids!" Mac exclaimed, trying to get over her own shock. "They're great.
The Admir-AJ, is watching them tonight."

Webb laughed. "I have a hard time picturing a former SeAL on babysitting
duty.

"Are you kidding?" Harm said. "He loves it."

"Yeah," Mac added. "SeAL or not, that man is a six-foot-four-inch teddy
bear."

"So, Sarah," Webb's mother said, "are you in the Navy, too?"

"No ma'am, Marine Corps."

The woman's face wrinkled in displeasure. "Yuck. That olive green is so
drab. I don't know any woman who looks good in that color."

"Well I do, Mrs. Webb," Harm said. "The Colonel happens to look damn
se--very professional and authoritative in uniform. As she should."

"Oh, Sarah, of course you do. I didn't mean...you see, when I was your age,
women didn't go into the military. We were the Rosies, doing the riveting,
waiting anxiously for our husbands and brothers to come home in one piece. A
woman, well, it was simply unheard of."

"Actually ma'am," Sturgis felt compelled to speak up, "with all due respect,
women were quite an integral part of the war effort, in Europe and the
Pacific just as much as on the homefront. Who do you think tended to all the
husbands and brothers so they *could* go home in one piece? If you're
interested, I can recommend a book that--"

"No, I think I've had enough history lesson for now. Clayton, would you
please pour me a scotch? And make it a double."

Terri jumped up. "I'll get it. And Mac, would you come with me? There's
that thing in the kitchen I wanted to show you."

Mac looked at her, confused.

"You know, that *thing*."

"Oh right! The thing!" Mac hurried into the kitchen behind her.

"Mac, I can't do this." Terri shook her head.

"Sure you can. It's only one night."

"But it hasn't even been one hour and I'm ready to strangle her. I'm so
sorry for what she said to you. And poor Sergei. He's too sweet to stand up
for himself."

"Terri, it's all right. You and Clay have told us how bad she can be. We can
handle it."

"If you see me lunge at her with a frying pan, don't try to stop me."

"Be strong, Commander Coulter. That is an order."

Terri smiled. "Aye aye, ma'am."

After a quick hug, they rejoined the group, and in a little while everyone
moved into the dining room for dinner. Terri served everyone a colorful
salad and sat down to eat her own portion. She splashed a modest amount of
olive oil and vinegar onto hers.

"Oh, Terri," Mrs. Webb noted, "go easy on that oil. You're watching your
figure, aren't you?"

Chloe picked up the small glass bottle and drizzled some onto her plate.
"Actually," she said, "olive oil is one of the best things a person can eat.
It's part of the reason the Mediterranean diet is so good for you. Did you
know there are old men in Italy and Greece who drink a small glass of it
every morning? And they practically live forever."

After some small talk, Terri cleared the salad plates away and she and Webb
were in the kitchen making artful presentations with herb garnishes on the
plates of filet mignon and mushroom barley risotto. They brought the dishes
out and everyone was served except for Harm. Terri went back into the
kitchen and emerged with one final plate. She placed it in front of him,
and he looked up at her and smiled. There was a hearty grilled portabella
mushroom in place of the steak. "Told you I had a little surprise," she
whispered.

After everyone was served, Webb uncorked the red and white wines.

"White wine with meat? That's not good for the palette," Mrs. Webb
criticized, and she was about to remove it from the table. Sergei beat her
to it and grabbed the bottle.

"It is for me, Mrs. Webb. My palette is allergic to red. I hope I will not
offend you." He poured himself a glass of it.

"Oh, if you're allergic, then by all means."

Chloe took some of the white, and Webb poured red for the rest of them, and
a sparkling cider for Mac. Mac smiled and Webb winked at her.

"I would like to propose a toast," Webb announced, standing at the head of
the table. Everyone lifted their glasses, but Webb's mother interrupted her
son.

"Sarah, honey, don't you want any wine?"

"I...I don't drink."

"What? Don't be ridiculous. Who ever heard of such a thing? Clayton, pour
that girl a proper glass of wine."

Harm reached for Mac's hand under the table and gave it a comforting
squeeze.

"Mother," Webb said, "not everyone shares your taste in beverages. Please,
show my guests some respect." He paused to gather his thoughts again. "As I
was saying, I would like to propose a toast, to several people. First, to
Captain Turner, we'll miss you, but duty calls, and we know you're the right
man for the job."

"Go Navy," Harm joked.

Webb rolled his eyes. "Second, to Chloe, a Spielberg in the making. Good
luck this semester. I, of course, will expect you to take me to the Oscars
when you get your first nomination. And Sergei, don't argue, because you
still owe me some favors. And last, but not least, to Teresa, for organizing
this wonderful evening. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and
she has both of mine in the palm of her hand."

"Cheers," everyone chorused.

"If I may," Harm said as he stood up, "I'd like to add something. To an
evening surrounded by beautiful women, on behalf of us poor saps, who, by
the sheer grace of God, managed to snag you."

Glasses were clinked together and everyone took a sip and began eating.

"Sturgis," Mrs. Webb began, causing Terri to preemptively kick Webb under
the table, "what about you? Surely you must have a woman in your life."

"I'm sad to say I don't have much luck with the ladies."

"What?! A nice looking colored fella like yourself? I don't believe it."

Terri almost choked on her steak. "Look at that!" she exclaimed. "I forgot
the salt and pepper! How silly of me!" She got up and practically flew into
the kitchen.

Webb was frozen in place and would be no help, Harm noticed, so he got up to
follow Terri. When he found her, she was outside on the porch that led off
from the kitchen. He could see how tense she was as she stood with her head
down and her hands clenched into fists.

"Don't do that," he said softly. "You don't want your mascara to run, do
you?"

She kept her back to him. "I'm not crying, Harm. Wouldn't give that racist
bitch the satisfaction."

"Terri, hey, it's all right," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"She doesn't mean to hurt anyone. She's just...from a different generation.
A different mindset."

"Yeah, the ignorant, bigoted one."

Harm chuckled. "We don't mind. Really. We all want tonight to go well for
you and Clay's sake, and he's been warning us for days. We knew we'd have to
grin and bear a few things."

"Harm, for God's sake, she thought Sturgis was our butler!"

He smiled. "Okay, yeah, that was a little...interesting."

"And what she said to Mac - oh, Harm. I should've ended it right there."

"Don't worry about that. Mac's a big girl, and it's not the first time she's
faced a comment like that."

"I can't go back in there."

"Yes you can."

"God grant me the serenity," she said with her eyes closed.

"Hey, I've got a surprise for *you* now. Two, actually."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. First, for you, I would've eaten a steak. And second, Sergei's not
allergic to red wine." He winked at her and flashed his trademark smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terri and Harm returned to the table, with the salt and pepper shakers to
keep up their guise.

Webb now owed a lifetime of favors to Sturgis, who had managed to smile
graciously and calmly tell Mrs. Webb how he had dated a Congresswoman from
Michigan, but it didn't work out and now she was engaged to an auto industry
lobbyist from Detroit.

"Terri, this steak is incredible. So tender, it's melting in my mouth," Mac
said.

"That's strange," Mrs. Webb said, "mine seems a little tough."

I thought your fangs would be able to cut right through it, Terri thought.

"Well," Chloe jumped in, "the risotto is divine. The perfect texture."

Terri smiled. "I'm glad you like it. It's one of my favorites."

They continued eating, with, miraculously, no more off-color remarks from
Mrs. Webb. Everyone moved into the living room while Clay and Terri cleared
the dishes and prepared dessert. Terri was making a dark chocolate fondue
with strawberries, bananas, and pound cake. Webb could tell by the fierce
way she sliced the fruit that she was incredibly upset. He'd better tread
carefully, he thought.

"I love you, Terri," he said playfully.

"Then get that woman out of my house." Slice, slice. There was a regular
tapping sound as the sharp knife hit the cutting board.

"She's gone, sweetheart, as soon as dessert's over. I'm driving her back to
the hotel and her flight leaves early tomorrow morning."

"Did she ask if Sturgis could go back with her to pick some cotton? Clay,
she's out of control. And the things she said to Mac? I've never been so
mortified in all my life."

"I know, honey. I know. I wish I could make excuses for her, but I can't.
That's just the way she is. Loves to find fault wherever she can."

"Well she finds a damn lot of it in me, doesn't she. Clay, she's driving us
apart!"

"Only if we let her."

"Aren't we, though? Isn't that why we're not Mr and Mrs yet? Because she
hates me and you won't stand up to her."

"No matter what she says, no matter how insulting, she *is* my mother. Look,
you know she lost my father when I was very young, and she's always been
overprotective. She only wants the best for me."

"Well I'm never going to be that in her eyes. I'm never going to be a
'proper lady' who hosts afternoon teas and belongs to the garden club. So if
that's the kind of woman you want, then what have we been doing these past
few years?!"

Terri's hand was shaking as she cut the pound cake into bite-size pieces.
Webb took the knife from her and set it down on the table. He took her
hands in his and spoke passionately. "That is *not* the kind of woman I
want. The woman I want looks at dead bodies for a living, for crissake. And
I don't know about you, but what I've been doing all these years is being
more in love than I ever thought possible. Now, if you can stomach her for
one more hour, I promise you I'll have a big talk with her on the way to the
hotel."

Terri took a few deep breaths and Webb could see her calming down. She got
up and stirred the warm, smooth fondue one last time. "Y'know, this would be
great with some Frangelico in it. Maybe I'll make it again sometime when
Mac's not here."

"Ooooh, yeah. 'Cause I could think of better things to put that melted
chocolate on than fruit and cake."

Terri blushed. "Don't start."

"Why not?"

"Because we can't finish. Well, not yet, anyway." She winked and brought the
fondue pot to the table, leaving him standing there with visions for later.

Webb brought out the tray of fruit and poured coffee for everyone. Sergei
dipped a plump, red strawberry into the chocolate and took a bite. He closed
his eyes as he savored the taste. "Terri, I am feeling like a king tonight.
There was a time when only the wealthiest royalty and czars could eat like
this."

"Well thank God those days are over, because this is to die for," Mac said.

Chloe ate a piece of the pound cake, warm and gooey with a coating of
fondue. "Mmmm." Sergei smiled as he watched her enjoy it. He reached his
napkin up and wiped away a dot of chocolate on the edge of her mouth.

"So, did I hear you go to NYU, Chloe?" Webb's mother asked.

"Yes. I'll be a junior this year."

"I don't know how you do it. That city is so dirty and crime ridden. The
island of Manhattan is nothing but a cesspool of iniquity."

"Um. actually, New York is safer than it's ever been. My friends and I are
out at all hours and we've never had a problem. On the other hand, I got
mugged at home in Vermont. I feel safer in Times Square than in my
one-stoplight town."

"That can't be right."

"It's true, mother," Webb said. "Intelligence data shows that--well, never
mind what our data shows. A person has a better chance of getting mugged by
a cow in Pennsylvania than by an attacker in New York."

"Speaking of Pennsylvania," Terri said, "or that's where it used to be,
anyway, how's your plane, Harm?"

"Oh, she's perfect. Running like a gem."

"You own a plane?" Mrs. Webb asked.

"Yeah. A World War Two biplane. The love of my life, after my wife and
children."

"Do you fly often?"

"Not as much as I'd like, but I get up there every now and then."

"At your age? Do you think that's wise? I mean, a person's eyes have to be
top notch for that."

Harm held his coffee cup so tight he thought he might shatter it. Mac
placed her hand on his leg under the table to stop him from lunging across
the table and decking the woman.

"Mrs. Webb," Terri said, "Harm has two Distinguished Flying Crosses. He's
flown in war and in peace. He knows what's best for himself, and he'll step
down when the time is right."

The tension was thickening again. "Sure he will," Sturgis joked, to lighten
the mood. Even Mac had to laugh.

"Hey! When did this become gang up on Harm night?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A while later, everyone was gone, after some major apologies from Clay and
Terri for Mrs. Webb's behavior. Webb drove his mother to her hotel, and when
he got back, he let Terri relax in a warm bath while he did the dishes and
cleaned up. He loosened his tie as he went upstairs, and when he entered the
bedroom, the sight of Terri took his breath away.

She stood before him in a floor-length, deep red satin negligee. Her long
blonde hair cascaded down her back. "Sit down," she instructed, and led him
to the edge of the bed. She remained standing, and paced back and forth as
she spoke. "I have a lot to say, so please, hear me out and don't
interrupt."

Webb nodded slowly and braced himself for the backlash against his mother
that was sure to follow.

"I'm very angry right now. I'm angry at your mother, but not for the reason
you think. I'm angry that she managed to deeply insult every single one of
our guests tonight. But more than that, I'm angry because she didn't let me
get a word in edgewise, to do this the way I wanted to, in front of all our
friends.

Webb's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Clay, I love you. You make me happier than I ever imagined I could be. I've
made so many mistakes in life, yet God still saw fit to bring you to me. It
took me a long time to find you, and now that I have you, I don't want to
ever let you go. Now, I'm sorry I don't fit your mother's vision of the
perfect wife for you, but that is *her* problem, not yours, and certainly
not mine. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of us using her as an excuse not
to go after what we want. And I'm not going to do it anymore. I know what I
want."

She went to her nightstand and took out a small, black velvet box. She got
down on one knee in front of him. "Clayton Webb, I want to spend the rest of
my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Webb was momentarily speechless. "I...I...this is all wrong! I'm supposed to
ask *you*. This breaks with all tradition!"

"Clayton, you and I are a lot of things, but traditional has never been one
of them." She smiled at him. "In case you don't remember, the first time we
met, I handed you a plastic bag with a severed finger in it in the middle of
Afghanistan. Not exactly a classic first date."

"I remember. And I'll tell you why. I remember because I didn't know how I
could be so frustrated and enraged over those terrorists, and at the same
time fall so desperately, head-over-heels in love with you at first sight."
Webb joined Terri on the floor, on one knee. "Let's do this right, he said,
taking the ring from her. "Teresa, I want to fall in love with you again
every day for the rest of my life. I want to spend every waking moment
making you smile, if you'll have me. Will you marry me, Teresa?"

Her tears were already falling as she said "yes" and nodded, and Webb slid
the ring onto her finger.

"I have good taste in diamonds, don't I?" Webb joked.

"You do. And you can expect to see it on your credit card bill next month."

"You're a sneaky one, Terri Coulter. You want a job in central
intelligence?" They kissed and held each other for a few minutes.

"About that deal we made earlier..." Terri reminded him.

"There's some fondue left downstairs..."

"God, I was hoping you'd say that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LATER THAT NIGHT
SERGEI'S APARTMENT
WASHINGTON, DC

Sergei was waiting in his bedroom while Chloe was in the bathroom changing
for bed.

"So how come you never told me about your artistic skill? Those swans were
really impressive."

"I don't know," she replied through the closed door. "It never came up."

"Why don't you tell me about your other hidden talents."

Chloe stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but the pale pink
lingerie she'd bought all those months ago at the mall with her friends. She
hadn't worn it for him yet. She was going back to school in a few days and
wanted the last of their time together to be special.

"Why don't I show you instead?" she purred.

Sergei could hardly believe his eyes. He had seen Chloe nude before; they
had done everything two people could do, just short of making love. But
seeing her in the tiny slip of material, hugging her curves in all the right
places, made her look even more beautiful than usual.
He crooked his finger at her and she walked over and stood in front of him
at the edge of the bed. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her to him.
Their mouths met, as they had countless times before, but tonight, something
was different. More intense. Both of them were desperate to hold on to every
precious second they had left before Chloe went back to New York.

They fell back onto the bed, hands and mouths seeking and finding.

For several minutes they were lost in each other, but soon they reached the
boundary of the familiar. They had been together for months, and both were
determined to shatter the final boundary tonight.

"Chloe," Sergei whispered, kissing the soft spot behind her ear, "please,
let me make love to you."

"Yes," she whispered.

It was music to Sergei's ears. "Are you sure?"

She looked into his eyes, and her answer came as a slow nod before she
brought her lips to his again. They devoured each other for a while longer,
and then the moment was upon them.

"Do you...have anything?" Chloe asked.

Sergei nodded and reached into his nightstand.

"Can you turn off the light?" she asked.

"Why?" Sergei was disappointed. "Chloe, you're so beautiful. I want to see
you. I want to look in your eyes."

"Please," she pleaded.

"I wish you would let me look at you."

"Please, Sergei."

He sighed in defeat. "If it's what you want." He got up and flipped the
lightswitch.

Their lovemaking was slow and tender. Sergei did his best to make her
comfortable and not hurt her. Like so many women the first time, Chloe
didn't find much satisfaction in the experience. But Sergei was an expert at
giving her pleasure in other ways, and he never minded doing so, even when
it took a long time. In fact, hearing Chloe's sensual moans and touching
her, inside and out, was more erotic than anything she could do to him.

Afterward, they fell asleep in each other's arms. But after a while, Chloe
woke up, with a thousand thoughts swimming through her mind. She wrapped a
blanket around herself and tiptoed over to the inside ledge by the window
and silently opened the blinds.

Everything looks the same, she thought. The stars, the streetlights, the
cars parked down below. Most of all, *I* feel the same. She wasn't sure what
she had expected. But it was such a big deal. So much worrying and
preparation, and it had come and gone. And she was the same person.

Sergei was as gentle as he could have been, she knew. It tore at his heart
when she winced from the pain, and he held her hand and kissed her cheek as
they joined for the first time. She knew it would be painful, and had
expected it. But she could make out Sergei's features in the dark room, and
the look of rapture on his face as they completed the final act that no
longer separated them, was almost enough to make her forget. It was that
look, his tender caresses, and the sound of her name on his lips in his
moment of ecstasy that she would remember.

Sergei woke up soon after Chloe did, but he stayed in bed, watching her out
of the corner of his eye. He wanted to go over and hold her, but he
understood if she needed time alone with her thoughts. His biggest fear was
that she was disappointed. Maybe he hadn't lived up to her expectations. He
wanted to tell her it gets better. So many times in movies and on
television, they made it seem like it's always earth-shattering, both people
moaning and screaming and going at it again and again. No one ever talked
about how strange the first time can be.

Chloe had fit him like a glove, he thought. He couldn't have wished for a
better feeling than all of her wrapped around all of him. But he felt
guilty. He had a hunch it was coming soon, but if he had known it would be
tonight, he would've bought some flowers and scattered the petals all over
the room. And candles. Lots of candles. Next time, he thought. If she would
grant him a next time.

He couldn't stand it any longer. Chloe was probably having as many
conflicting emotions as he was.

"What are you thinking over there, all by yourself?" he asked.

"Lots of things."

"Like what?"

"You'll think it's silly."

"I think you are beautiful and smart and wonderful, but not silly."

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Yes."

"I...I thought I would feel different. Like...like it would change me. I
told you it was stupid."

"That's not stupid, Chloe. Everyone in the world thinks that their first
time."

"Did you?"

"Of course I did. And then I felt disillusioned, just like you probably do
right now. But it gets better. You try different things, and you learn what
you like. And each time is less awkward and scary, and pretty soon, it feels
like heaven. Everyone thinks what you're thinking."

Chloe chuckled. "I doubt that."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Because I was thinking about everything - everything before this.
I mean...this is a bigger deal for a girl than for a guy." She paused,
deciding whether or not she should tell Sergei everything. But she might as
well. There were no more physical boundaries between them; why should there
be any emotional ones? "I went to the gynecologist to get on birth control
pills and make sure everything was okay. And maybe that doesn't seem like a
big deal to you, but it is to me. It's one more thing to worry about. One
more thing about being an adult, being responsible for myself. Things happen
so fast and there's no turning back." She turned to look out the window
again. "And now you think I'm crazy."

"I think, my angel, that *I* am crazy. Crazy in love with you. And I also
think that you should come back to bed so I can feel you in my arms."

She complied, and when she got under the covers, Sergei turned on the
bedside lamp. He slowly peeled the blanket away from her.

"Sergei," she said, clutching the blanket.

He uncurled her fingers and continued pushing the blanket away until she was
completely exposed to him. "Please, I want to look at you." He ran his
fingers slowly from her face, down the column of her throat, over her
breasts, and down to her navel. "Why on earth would you not want me to see
this?" he said softly. "I could drink you in forever."

She pushed his hand away and closed her eyes.

"Chloe, please, what's wrong?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Try. I have all night to listen."

She sighed. "Where do I begin? Despite that pink satin thing I was wearing
before, I'm not exactly happy with my body."

"Chloe--"

"No, let me say this."

Sergei nodded, and he caressed her arm while she continued.

"I don't know what possessed me to put it on. I saw it in a store a while
back, before we were even going out. But I thought, maybe, someday. You make
me feel beautiful. Adequate. You give me the confidence to wear something
like that. I guess what I'm trying to say is, even though you do that for
me, you can't fix what I feel inside. And I'll probably always feel it, to
an extent. It might get better, but it will always be there a little, that I
know for sure. And I wish it wasn't. I wish I could clap my hands and make
all that insecurity go away, but I can't. It's just who I am and you can't
change it, no matter how many times you tell me I'm beautiful. I know it's
dumb, and I feel dumb for feeling that way, but does it make any sense to
you?"

Sergei leaned over and kissed her. "Yes, it makes sense. I don't like it,
but I understand it." He pulled her close, her back against his chest, his
arm draped over her. "You're not dumb, Chloe, but I do think you're a little
naive. You've got this notion that looks are all that matter, and maybe to
guys in college, they are. But in the real world, other qualities are so
important. Everybody gets old. Everybody's going to have spots, and
wrinkles, and a gut. But not everyone's intelligent and creative and
inspiring. And Chloe, even if looks *were* the only thing, you'd have
nothing to worry about, because you are breathtaking and I love you."

She was moved to tears. "I love you too. And I'm relieved you don't think
I'm insane."

"Not insane. Brainwashed. From now on, no more of those horrible women's
magazines for you. Well, maybe the Victoria's Secret catalogue, but that's
different."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SAME NIGHT
HARM & MAC'S HOUSE

"That was crazy, huh?" Harm said. He and Mac were getting ready for bed
after picking up Roz and Victor from AJ's and putting them to bed first.
Victor had been fussy, but like so many babies, he was soothed by the smooth
roll of the car during the drive home.

"Yeah," Mac agreed. "They're just lucky Sturgis is so easygoing. It's hard
to believe some people still think that way."

"Definitely. I wish Webb would grow a spine and propose to Terri already,
but then again, I'd hate to see her with the mother-in-law from hell."

"I can't imagine how frustrating it must be."

Harm smiled. "Yeah. I guess we never had that problem, did we? My mother
thought you were the second coming. If I hadn't beaten her to it, she
would've proposed to you herself."

Mac laughed. "Mrs. Webb's a real piece of work, but I've got to admit, it's
kind of nice to know I'm not the only one with screwed up parents."

After a while, Mac was in a deep sleep, but Harm was still tossing and
turning. The trouble Mac had always had sleeping disappeared when she
married Harm. Something about being near him allowed her to sleep
peacefully and she rarely woke during the night. Harm envied her that
tonight. He was tossing and turning, and after a while, he was distracted
by a tapping sound. He turned over and saw Roz standing in the doorway in
tears. One of her little hands knocked timidly on the open door, and the
other clutched her favorite doll tightly to her chest.

Harm sat up and signaled for her to come over. "What is it, sweetie?" he
whispered. She sniffled, never taking her eyes off the carpet. "Did you
have a bad dream?" Roz nodded. "You want to tell me about it?"

"I was with this man, she choked out, and he looked like you, only it
wasn't you. I didn't know where I was. It was so scary." Anything else she
might've said was lost to more tears.

"Oh, don't cry, sweetie. It's okay. You wanna stay with me and mommy
tonight?"

She nodded, and a pitiful, afraid little squeak escaped her lips.

"Okay baby." He lifted her up and settled her between himself and Mac, who
managed to sleep through the ordeal. "Better?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm." Roz fell asleep almost instantly, and Harm not too long after
that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW DAYS LATER
2330 EST

Harm and Mac were lying in bed, watching the late movie on TV. Well, Mac was
watching the movie; Harm's attention was focused on kissing Mac's neck and
caressing her soft shoulder and slowly pushing the thin straps of her
nightgown down her arms. Mac liked the movie a lot, but Harm was doing a
good job of distracting her, until a special news report interrupted the
normal broadcasting.

"This just in," the anchorman said. "A violent riot broke out two hours ago
at the U.S. military disciplinary barracks at Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas. The
riot was apparently staged to divert the attention of guards and other
security personnel as part of an elaborate escape plan for four inmates."

Harm and Mac both sat up, eyes wide, waiting for more details. The news cut
to an Army Colonel giving a brief press conference to a small group of
reporters. He identified each of the men, and their pictures were shown on
the screen. Two had been in the Army, one was a Marine. The fourth man
needed no introduction for Harm and Mac, as they were both intimately
familiar with his repulsive, enigmatic face.

"Palmer," Harm said in a low growl. He covered his eyes with his hands and
pressed hard.

"Harm," Mac said, "let's just keep listening."

The Colonel continued. "The fugitives have been at large for approximately
an hour and forty minutes. Residents of surrounding areas should be on
highest alert. The fugitives may well have been planning this for some time
and may have contacts for provisions and transportation on the outside. They
could be anywhere in the next few hours, so in fact, the whole country
should be on alert. If you believe you see these persons, or any suspicious
activity, do not attempt to intervene. Contact your local authorities
immediately. I repeat, do not attempt to intervene. These men may or may not
be armed, but they are extremely dangerous."

Mac turned off the TV as the news went back to the anchor for the standard,
"We'll keep you informed as this story develops." She turned to

Harm, who sat there motionless, his eyes still fixed ahead on the blank
television screen, his knuckles white and forearms tense as he tightly
gripped the blanket beneath him.

"Harm," Mac whispered, and she gently touched his arm.

"Dammit," Harm whispered gruffly, pushing her arm away.

At his action, Mac stayed where she was, silent, not knowing what to do or
say. Harm stood up and went into the bathroom that adjoined their bedroom,
and Mac could hear him turn on the water to wash his face. He returned a
minute later and got under the covers without a word.

"Don't you want to talk about this?" Mac asked.

"No." His tone was icy, and his face stoic, and instead of holding Mac and
cuddling like spoons before they fell asleep, as was their usual routine, he
turned away from her, clicked off the lamp, and pulled the covers up to his
neck.

Mac hated going to sleep without Harm's strong arm draped over her, but she
knew there was no getting through to him at times like this. He needed to
process Palmer's escape in his own way, and she respected that, although it
pained her that even after all these years, there were still things she
couldn't help him with. Things he didn't want help with. Places inside him
he still kept surrounded by impenetrable walls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mac woke up a few hours later. She didn't need to glance at the alarm clock
to know it was just past 03:00. And she didn't need to look over to know
Harm wasn't there next to her. She could feel the cold, lonely weight of his
absence. She put on a robe and made her way downstairs to the kitchen. In
the dark room, she could make out her husband's tall frame as he sat
brooding at the table, looking out the window at nothing in particular.

"What's a handsome man like you doing in a place like this?" she teased.

Harm said nothing, and didn't even turn to look at her.

"You want some company?" she asked more seriously, absorbing the gravity of
her husband's mood.

Harm shrugged. "I don't think I'll make for great conversation right now,
but be my guest."

She sat down across from him at the table and noticed a glass of ginger ale
and the box of saltine crackers in front of him. "Are you hungry? If you
want, I can make you something better than that."

Harm shook his head. "Not unless you want to see it come up again all over
this table."

"You all right?"

He shook his head again. "There's a troop of acrobats doing somersaults in
my stomach."

"You want some antacid or something?"

"No. Believe me, Mac, medicine won't help this problem. Nothing will help
except seeing Clark Palmer back behind bars, where he belongs."

"Harm, it's only been a few hours. He couldn't have gotten that far yet.
They'll catch him."

"Dammit Mac," he said. "You and I both know that's not true. He could
already be disguised as anyone. And you heard the warden - he could be on
his way to anywhere. Hell, he could be knocking on our door in a few hours."
Harm got up and went to the kitchen sink. He looked out at the dark night
while his hands gripped the edge of the counter. A touch of moonlight flowed
in through the window, and Mac could see the muscles in his tense back and
shoulders accentuated in the blue-white haze. "Son of a bitch could be
anywhere." Mac saw him take a few labored breaths. "If he comes here, I
swear to God I'll--"

"What, Harm? What are you going to do, sit by the door with your pistol all
night?"

"Sounds good to me."

Mac stood behind him, her hands gently massaging his back. "Harm, don't be
ridiculous. They'll get him before he even changes out of his prison
coveralls." She spoke with much more confidence than she actually felt. The
truth was, she was even more scared than he was. She could already see the
wheels turning in Harm's mind, and if he did anything heroic and stupid, she
could be left to raise their children without him.

He turned around to her. "You really believe that?" he asked timidly.

"Yes. They've got guards and guns and dogs, and they'll hunt him down like
the animal he is. Tomorrow this will all be a bad dream."

"I hope you're right," Harm said.

"I am. Now come on, you need to get back to sleep. It wouldn't do to have
the Judge Advocate General nodding off at his desk tomorrow, would it?"

The Admiral who had succeeded AJ had developed a chronic health problem that
forced him to retire, and Harm had been appointed to the position a few
months ago. "No, I suppose not."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE NEXT DAY
0945 EST
JAG HQ

Harm was at his desk reviewing some files over a cup of coffee when his
yeoman, a Petty Officer Green, patched through on the intercom.

"Lieutenant Commander Simms to see you, sir."

"Send her in, Green."

"Yes sir."

Harriet opened the door slowly and timidly stepped into the large office of
her friend, and now CO. "Um, sir..." she began nervously.

"Come on in, Harriet, I don't bite," Harm said. He ushered her to one of the
chairs. "What's on your mind?"

"Well sir..."

"Spit it out, Harriet, can't you see I'm a busy man?" he joked, pointing to
the boring files he'd sooner throw in the trash than spend time working on.

Harriet smiled. "Yes sir. Sir, Bud and I saw the news last night, and,
well...I just wanted to see if you're all right."

"I'm fine, Harriet, but thank you." I have no choice, he added to himself.
I've got a job to do.

"Right. Well, Bud and I know your history with that...that Palmer guy, and
if there's anything we can do..."

"I don't know, Harriet. What could you do? Plunge a knife into his heart for
me? Wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze the life out of him? No way
in hell. Nobody's getting that satisfaction but me."

Harriet was taken back by his words. "Yes sir, if you say so, sir."

Harm silently looked around his office, at the model yellow biplane on the
bookcase, and at the pictures of his family, Mac and the children.

"Aw, Harriet, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off like that. It's not easy to
sit here shuffling papers all day when that bastard is on the loose
somewhere. Not to mention my wife and son are home alone right now."

"Sir, with all due respect, Mac, I mean the Colonel, is a highly skilled
Marine. She can hold her own against anyone, no matter how dangerous."

"I know she can. However, Clark Palmer is a lot of things, dangerous being
the very least. I swear, if he ever got ahold of her, or my kids..."

"Sir, maybe you'd like to go home and be with them? Respectfully, it seems
like that's where your mind is anyway. I know Bud, er, Lieutenant Roberts,
is your chief of staff, but he's on that investigation at the Navy Yard
today. I could look after things here, sir. With your permission, of
course."

"Thanks Harriet, but that's not necessary. I'll be of no use to JAG today,
but I'd be even worse at home. At least here I can yell at people who are
duty-bound to stand there and listen. Mac would just get me in a headlock
and knock me out."

Harriet chuckled and pointed to the gold stripes on the cuffs of Harm's
jacket. "I guess those don't carry much authority at home, huh sir?"

He smiled. "None at all. 'Soon as I walk through the door, I might as well
be a plebe and Mac a Lieutenant General."

"Oh, come on sir, it can't be that bad."

"It's not. I'm just kidding with you. Mac gives me her love, and as long as
I have that, she can take as much of me as she wants. I don't need anything
else."

"Wow. You're pretty romantic, for a lawyer." Harm raised an eyebrow. "Oh,
I'm sorry, sir! I mean--"

He smiled. "It's all right. Now get back to work, Commander."

She stood up. "Aye aye, sir."

She turned to go, and just before she got to the door, Harm called to her.

"Harriet! Thanks for...well, thanks." Harriet nodded. "Bud's a very lucky
man."

Harriet smiled. "Sir, would you mind reminding him of that now and then,
say, every week at staff call? I think he forgets sometimes."

"You got it. Dismissed."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." She shut the door as she left.

Harm considered how lucky he was in his friendships. Harriet had always had
the courage to be a friend first, officer second, even years before, when
she was just an Ensign. All of his friends, he reflected, they had all been
through hell and back together - Bud and Harriet, AJ, Sturgis, Webb, and
Terri Coulter. A man couldn't be much more fortunate in life than to be
surrounded by people like that, people for whom he'd move heaven and earth.

And God help Clark Palmer if he came anywhere near any of them.

Harm focused on that single thought as he leaned back in his tall leather
chair and stared out the window. The sun was becoming obscured by ominous,
billowing thunderhead clouds. The steely darkness threatened to overwhelm
the day, as if even Nature herself knew something was coming. Something
terrible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening at home, Harm tried to play with Roz after dinner, but his
heart wasn't quite in it. It wasn't easy to smile and make happy shapes out
of Play-Doh when what you really wanted was to throw a grenade at another
man's head.

After putting their son and daughter to bed, Harm and Mac sat in the living
room reading the newspaper. Harm was hogging the comics and sports sections
hoping for a good distraction. He didn't need to read the news. He knew
there was nothing new on Palmer. He was still out there. He could feel it in
his bones. He'd know without being told when they caught him. If they caught
him.

The comics kept him smiling for a few minutes, and the sports pages kept him
occupied as he read about the Capitals training camp. Jagr was in the best
shape of his career, and Kolzig and Bondra were looking great in team
scrimmages. Maybe they would finally make a serious run at the Stanley Cup
in the spring.

After a while, he got up and went to check his email in the spare room they
used as an office. A few minutes later, Mac joined him in there.
"Anything good?" she asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"MAC!" He jumped up. "Jeez! Don't you know better than to sneak up on
someone like that?"

"Like what? Like Palmer, coming to get you? Harm, this is ridiculous. You
can't go on like this."

"Like what?"

"Like he's gonna jump out at you from every corner, from behind every tree.
He's nowhere near here and you know that."

"No, I *don't* know that, Mac, and neither do you. At the risk of sounding
like an egomaniac, I'm probably the first person he plans to visit, so
you'll excuse me if I'm a little jumpy."

"Harm, they *will* catch him."

Harm sighed, his shoulders falling as he let it go. This conversation was a
losing battle and he was tired of trying to make Mac see things his way.

Mac stood behind him and rubbed his tight shoulders. "Secret admirer?" she
teased, as Harm opened an email message.

"Not unless it's a man, admiring me from a few hundred feet down in the
ocean."

"Sturgis?"

"Yeah. He sends his regards, and a little death wish for Palmer."

"Boy," Mac said, "news really travels fast, huh?"

"Yeah. Even under water, apparently."

"Well, tell him I said hello." Mac kissed Harm on the cheek and went
upstairs to get ready for bed. A few minutes later, the phone rang, and Mac
got to it first.

"Hello?"

"Mac, hi, it's AJ."

"Oh, hi sir!" No matter how many times AJ had told Harm and Mac to call him
by his first name since he'd retired, it was a hard habit to break.

"I hope I'm not calling too late. I meant to try you earlier, but things
kept coming up."

"No problem, sir. And don't worry. You didn't wake anyone. Roz is a heavy
sleeper, and Victor's finally gotten the hang of sleeping through the
night."

"Ah, well, glad to hear it. Although, there was something I was most
certainly *not* glad to hear, and that's the reason for my call."

"Then you know about Clark Palmer."

"Yes, I do and it turns my stomach."

"You're not the only one, sir."

"How's he taking it?"

"Worse then he lets show, but I know better."

"Y'always could see right through him, Mac. Poor sap never stood a chance."

Mac chuckled. "No sir, but you could say the same thing vice versa."

"Yeah, I guess I could," AJ said, suppressing a laugh. "I'm just glad you
kids finally woke up and used those sparks between you for something
better'n arguing."

"Spoken like a true romantic," Mac said.

"Aw, heck, Mac. Even an old SeAL's gotta have a soft spot somewhere. But
seriously, how's Harm doing?"

"Well sir, he's been better, but all things considered, he's holding up
really well. Too well, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"He's holding it in, but I know it's there. Plain as day. And eventually,
it's all gonna come out and I'm just not sure I'll be able to handle it when
it does. Not on top of my own fear."

"You're worried, Mac?"

"Terrified." There was no point in denying it. Not to someone who could read
her like an open book anyway.

"You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, Colonel." AJ used
her title, hoping to remind her that she was, in fact, a badass Marine. "But
please, if there's anything I can do, just say the word. If you and Harm
want to go out for an evening, or get away from all this for a weekend, you
know I can never get enough of that beautiful little girl and her brother,
even when he's crying his head off."

"Thank you, sir. We could always use a good babysitter, especially one with
combat experience! But honestly, short of staking out our house every night
with some serious firepower, I'm not sure there's anything you can do."

"Hey now, that's not such a bad idea. I'm always up for a good stakeout."

Mac laughed. "Well, I'll keep it in mind, sir."

"You do that. Can you put Harm on?"

"Sure, just a second." Mac called down to Harm and she hung up the phone
when she heard him pick up.

"Admiral, good evening, sir."

"Come on Harm, it's just AJ now."

"Sorry, AJ. You could wear bermuda shorts and a hawaiian shirt and I'd still
salute you."

"Well, never mind that. Enough about me. How are *you* doing, son?"

"Fine sir, why?"

"Oh, cut the crap. It's all over the news."

"Sir, really, I'm okay."

"Come on. This man's tried to kill you more than once."

"Thanks for the reminder."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"That depends. You still licensed to practice law in Virginia?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Then you can defend me after I pump that son of a bitch full of
lead."

"Whoa there, tiger. I was thinking more along the lines of Mac and the kids
staying at my house while this thing plays out."

"Oh, sir, that's more than generous of you to offer, and my common sense is
telling me it's a great idea, but my heart's telling me this is my home, and
if I can't protect my family on my own, then what kind of a man am I?"

"A damn stupid one, that's what. Why don't you help Mac pack a few things
and drop everyone off. Tonight."

"Sir, really, I can't ask you to do that. We're fine here."

"Rabb, swallow that pride of yours already. Big as it is, I promise you
won't choke on it."

Harm couldn't suppress a smile at that. "Tell you what, sir. We're okay for
now, really. But if things heat up, they'll be on your doorstep first
thing."

"This is a bad idea, but I can see I'm talking to a brick wall on this one,
so it's a deal. Anytime, day or night. You let me know."

"Will do, sir. Thank you."

"One more thing, Harm."

"Yes, sir?"

"You can cut the act around the Colonel. Mac knows you better than anyone
and you're not fooling her, or me, for that matter, with this bravery
mumbo-jumbo."

"I don't know, sir. I'm doing a fantastic job of fooling myself. Does that
count?"

"Not if it gets you killed." Harm was silent, and AJ realized he better not
end the conversation on that note. For Mac's sake, he should put Harm in a
better mood before saying goodbye. "And don't you dare let that happen,
otherwise I'd have to go to the great beyond and haul your six back to earth
because there is no way I'm gonna get sucked back behind that desk at JAG
Ops. Not when I've gotten so used to spending my days fishing and catching
up on thirty years of good books."

Harm smiled. "Yes sir."

"All right. You go get some sleep now, and be sure to give the munchkins a
goodnight kiss from their grandpa AJ."

"I will, sir. Goodnight. And thanks again, for everything." He hung up the
phone, adding to himself, "Especially for treating them like your own." AJ's
daughter, Francesca, had a daughter, but AJ was lucky if he got to see her
once every few years. Now that he was retired, he'd be able to travel to
Italy more often, but he still loved having surrogate grandchildren close
enough to spoil all the time.

AJ had been especially touched when Harm and Mac had named their son after
Victor Galindez, the Marine Gunnery Sergeant who'd been such an asset to
JAG, and a damn fine human being besides. It would haunt AJ for the rest of
his life that the last time he ever saw Gunny was when he granted him
release from JAG to rejoin a fighting unit, for what turned out to be his
final mission. "Be safe, Victor," he had told him. But some orders just
can't be obeyed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Mac woke up, and just like the night before, she knew
Harm wasn't in bed with her. She saw his pajama top thrown haphazardly on
his side of the bed, and she put it on to cover her bare torso as she went
looking for him in the chilly house.

She found him in the first room down the hallway, Roz's bedroom. She stood
in the doorway, quietly taking in the scene before her. In the dim light
offered by her daughter's Hello Kitty nightlight, Mac could make out Harm's
strong form, sitting on the edge of Roz's bed, with Victor in his arms. It
was a picture that never failed to melt her heart and make her fall in love
with Harm all over again.

There he was, tall, broad, strong, the essence of pure masculinity,
clutching to his bare chest their tiny, soft baby. Mac could watch them like
that forever, and in moments like this, she understood the way Harm felt
when he used to watch her breastfeed.

Roz was asleep, facing the other way. All Mac could see was her long, dark
hair fanned along the pillow. She watched Harm's back rise and fall with
each calm breath.

Harm must've sensed she was watching him, and he turned around slowly,
trying not to wake Victor. Mac was surprised to see a lonely tear make its
way down his cheek. "Hey, beautiful," he whispered.

Mac smiled. "I could say the same to you." She tiptoed into the room and
reached out to brush away the wetness from his face. "You all right?" she
whispered.

He turned his head and shut his eyes tightly to stop more tears that
threatened to fall. Mac smoothed her hand through Harm's hair. "Come on,"
she whispered, tilting her head in the direction of their bedroom.

Harm nodded, and he got up to kiss Roz goodnight. He kissed her forehead.
"That's from me," he whispered, "and this one's from Grandpa AJ," he said
before he kissed her cheek. He followed Mac into Victor's nursery, and
before laying him down in his crib, Harm pressed his nose lightly against
his son's face and inhaled deeply.

"How can something so tiny smell so good?" he wondered aloud.

"He doesn't always smell that good. Trust me. I've got proof in the diaper
pail."
Harm was lost in the moment and didn't even hear her joke. "It's like baby
powder, and innocence, and happy dreams, and every good thing you can think
of. There's nothing else in the world like baby smell," he mused.

No, Mac thought, and nothing like a rock solid man reduced to mush because
of it. Nothing as sweet. Nothing as romantic. Nothing she was luckier to
have in her life.

They put Victor to bed, and Harm followed Mac into their bedroom. Once
inside, Harm grabbed Mac firmly by the waist and turned her around to him.
"You, young lady are doing very illegal things to that shirt," he said.

"Oh yeah?" she played along. "Like what?"

"Well, for starters, it's against the law to look so good in clothes that
aren't even yours." He pushed against her slightly, forcing her to walk
backward toward their bed.

"What else, officer," she asked in a throaty whisper.

"Well, for a man's shirt, it's sticking out in all the wrong places."

"Like where?" She closed her eyes.

"Like here," he said, and he trailed his hands from her waist, up her sides,
and around to her soft breasts, which were, indeed, doing things to his
shirt that Harm's own body never had.

Mac could hear the desire in his voice. "Oh, well officer, I wouldn't want
to break any laws. Isn't there anything I can do?"

Harm pulled her close to him, and she could feel his arousal. He whispered
seductively in her ear, "You can let me take it off you. I'm afraid I have
to perform a strip search."

"Oh, well, if it's the only way..." She took Harm's hands and placed them at
the top button. He made his way down, and when the last button was open, he
slowly, torturously, slid the shirt over Mac's shoulders and down her arms
until it fell to the floor in a small blue heap. He leaned in and kissed Mac
deeply. He put his hand behind her back to support her as they sank down
onto the bed.

A little while later, when they lay wrapped in each other's arms, Mac
brought up the conversation she'd meant to have with Harm before he had so
deliciously distracted her.

"Harm, about before..."

"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing. Forget it."

"It's not nothing if it moves you to tears."

"Gee, thanks for bringing that up. You really know how to stroke a guy's
ego."

"Judging from the look on your face a little while ago, I did a pretty good
job of stroking something else, so the least you can do is tell me what's
bothering you."

He turned his head. "It was stupid."

"Stupid enough to make you cry. Please, Harm, don't shut me out.

Harm remembered AJ's words from earlier that evening. It was no use
pretending with Mac. He looked into her eyes, twinkling from the moonlight
streaming into the room. "Just when my life was perfect. Just when I
finally had everything I ever dreamed of, something like this happens.
Something to take it all away. It isn't fair."

Mac reached up to caress his cheek. "No, it isn't, but that's exactly why
you should stop worrying. You and I have both had enough tragedy for five
lifetimes, and God isn't cruel enough to put us through any more of it."

"It's not God I'm worried about. Palmer works for the other guy, remember?"

"Well, I'm willing to bet he's done with us, too. Your father, Luke, Jordan,
Gunny. No way. We've been through enough. There's no one left."

Harm swallowed hard, thinking of the two children sleeping peacefully down
the hall. "Yeah, there is." He pulled Mac close and they snuggled
comfortably against one another. "I love you, Sarah," Harm said in the dark.

"I love you too."

"Baby, I'm gonna hold you tight, and if it's okay with you, I'm never gonna
let go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning, Harm and Mac awoke to good news. All four fugitives
had been apprehended during the night while trying to secure a rental car.
The clerk had recognized the men from the news report and was able to stall
them with paperwork until the police got there. They were all back in
Leavenworth, under maximum security.

"Thank God," Mac said, wrapping her arms around Harm from behind as he stood
in front of the bathroom mirror.

Harm said nothing, and stared coldly ahead at his reflection.

"Harm, you're stiff as a board. You can relax now, they've got him. It's
over."

"It's never over. Not with Palmer. I know him. He's still out there."

"What are you talking about? They found them all last night. You heard the
warden say it himself - they won't even be allowed to breathe without
permission for the next few years."

Harm shook his head and went back into the bedroom to grab his uniform
jacket. "Mac, I can't speak for the other three guys, but I know, in my gut,
Palmer's walking around a free man, smiling like a kid on Christmas."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because as much as I despise him, I've gotta give that SOB credit for being
intelligent. I mean, a rental car? Come on, that's way too elementary for
him. Palmer would never go down because of something so stupid. Something's
not right. I can feel it."

"Harm, you're scaring me."

"You *should* be scared."

Mac gave him an unsettled look and she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Mac, I'm sorry. I didn't really mean that. I'm probably just paranoid, and
that's exactly what that scumbag wants - to play these headgames and drive
me crazy. Mac, Palmer's my problem, and I'll deal with him."

"It stopped being only your problem the day we said 'I do.' If you honestly
think something's up, maybe we should look into it."

Harm sighed, and sat down next to her. "No, you're probably right. He's
back behind bars, and the last thing I want to do is give him the
satisfaction of scaring me into believing otherwise." He ran his hand
through Mac's messy morning hair and kissed her cheek.

"You want some breakfast before you go?" Mac had time for a leisurely
morning. She had to drop Roz off at kindergarten, but after that, she didn't
have to be at the Marine Corps recruiting station until lunchtime.

"No, I'll grab something on the way to the office."

"Jelly donut?"

Harm smiled. "Not likely."

"Egg whites on whole wheat, then," Mac said, wrinkling her face in mock
disgust. "You're so boring."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

"That I do, sailor, that I do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO MONTHS LATER (NOVEMBER 2009)
**MAC'S BIRTHDAY
1500 EST

Mac had worked the morning shift at the Marine Corps recruiting station, and
after picking up Victor from daycare, she stopped at Roz's school to take
her home from kindergarten. She held Victor as she stepped into the
classroom, almost tripping over building blocks and loose crayons.

Other moms and dads were scattered about, helping their children pack up
their belongings. Mac scanned the room, but Roz was nowhere in sight. She
waited a few minutes in case Roz was in the bathroom, but she didn't appear.
Finally, Mac approached the teacher, a young woman with a cheerful smile.

"Mrs. Keating?"

"Oh, Mrs. Rabb, hi!" She looked at the baby in Mac's arms, bundled up in
blue wool. "My gosh, Victor, you're growing so fast! You're gonna be as big
as your daddy in no time."

Mac smiled. "For my sake, I hope not. He's already outgrowing clothes faster
than I can buy them."

"Yeah, that age is so hard. They're like little clothing money pits."

"Yeah. Any idea where my daughter's gone off to?"

"Oh, I assumed you knew. Your husband came by for her earlier. Took her out
in the middle of the day."

"He did?" It wasn't like Harm to do that without telling her. "You sure it
was my husband?"

"Navy Captain, twice as tall as I am, hard to miss?"

"Yeah, that's him." She thought for a minute, and then realized what was
going on. Her face lit up. "Ooooh, he's so bad! You see, it's my birthday
today, and I bet he's up to something, with Roz's help."

"I wish my husband was romantic like that."

"Well, I wish he hadn't taken her out of school, but I'll wait and see. His
surprise might make up for it." She smiled all the way back to the car, and,
against her better judgment, she didn't call Harm to double check that Roz
was with him.

Mac looked in the rearview mirror at her son, who was strapped securely in
his carseat. "Your father is a sneaky one, Victor. A big, lovable sneak."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SAME DAY
1800 EST

At the risk of assuming too much, Mac didn't prepare anything for dinner.
She figured Harm would take her out somewhere nice. She was on the couch
watching the news when he came through the door, holding a huge bouquet of
multicolored roses.

Harm hung up his coat and walked over to her with the flowers. "Happy
birthday, beautiful," he said, and then kissed her.

She smiled brightly and inhaled the deep scent of the roses. "Oh, Harm, I
love these. They're so pretty. But where's your helper?"

"Hmm?"

"That sneaky little girl who helped you pull off whatever you've got planned
tonight."

"Mac, what are you talking about?"

"Come on, Harm," she joked. "Give it up, where's Roz?"

"Roz isn't with me. Didn't she have school today?"

"Yes, which *you* took her out of early to surprise me, right?" Harm stood
there, confused, and Macs alarm intensified. "Right?!"

"No, but that look in your eyes is starting to make me wish I had..."

"Then she's really not with you?!"

"No! I thought you were picking her up, like always!"

"No! Oh God, Harm, oh my God! I went to get her at the end of the day, and
her teacher said you were there earlier and took her out of class."

Harm felt his heart begin to pound as he started to fear the worst. "Mac, I
was at work all day. I didn't even leave the office for lunch."

Mac's knees gave out and she had to brace herself on the arm of the couch to
prevent herself from falling down. She whimpered a quiet, unintelligible
cry, and Harm raced over and guided her to a chair.

"Where is she, Harm?" she choked out. "Where's our little girl?"

"Okay, let's think." Harm tried to stay levelheaded. "What's her teacher's
name again?"

"Keating. Rosemary Keating."

"Rosemary Keating, okay. Let's see if she's in the phone book." He ran into
the other room and came back with the thick white pages. He flipped the
pages, scanning frantically for the name. "Keating...Keating, here it is."
He dialed so quickly that he entered a wrong number and got a disconnected
message. "Dammit!" He slammed the phone against the table. He dialed again,
this time slowly and deliberately.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Rosemary Keating please."

"Speaking."

"Mrs. Keating, this is Harmon Rabb, Roz's father--"

"Oh, Captain, hi! It was nice to see you this afternoon."

Harm swallowed hard. "Are you sure you saw me today?"

"Of course," she replied. "Did your wife like her surprise?"

"What?"

"Your surprise. I think it was so sweet of you to let Roz help."

"I...I...oh God--"

"Are you all right, Captain?"

He whispered inaudibly, "No no no no."

"Captain?"

"Mrs. Keating, I don't know who came to your classroom this afternoon, but
it wasn't me. I was at my office the entire day."

"Don't be silly. Of course it was you. You're a difficult face to forget."

Harm could hardly believe it. Their daughter was missing, and this woman was
f*cking flirting with him! "What?!"

"I'm sorry, I only meant that I have several students with parents in the
Service - three Army, two Air Force, but you're the only Navy."

"Look, Mrs. Keating, I'm sorry to ask you this, but it's a matter of life
and death. Can you meet me and my wife at the school as soon as possible?"

"My husband and I just sat down to dinner."

"Rosemary, please! Roz is missing and we need to talk to you!"

"What?! Oh my goodness, why didn't you say something sooner? I'll be there
in ten minutes."

Harm hung up the phone, and he expected to have to help Mac get up and into
her coat, but when he turned around, she was already bundled up and waiting
for him, with Victor in her arms and the car keys in one hand. Harm threw
his coat on and they dropped Victor off at a neighbor's house.

"You're in no condition to drive," he said, grabbing the keys from her.

"And you are?!"

"Don't argue. Just get in."

Harm ran every red light he safely could, and when they got to the parking
lot, Rosemary Keating was already waiting for them. Harm and Mac jumped out
of the car and approached her quickly.

Harm stood there before her. "Rosemary, please, take a good look at me. Are
you certain I'm the man you saw today?"

"One hundred percent. Gold wings and all."

Harm braced himself on the car as he felt the force of his worst fear and
suspicion coming true. He pushed hard against the car and released a long,
deep, inhuman roar. "I'll kill him. I'LL KILL HIM!"

Mac cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder. "Harm?"

"Mac, it's Palmer!"

"They...they caught him."

"No Mac! Remember what I said? The way they found the others - it was too
simple for him. He's still out there, and now he's got our daughter!"

"I don't understand," Mrs. Keating said. "If it wasn't you, then who came
for Roz?"

"The most evil, diabolical animal in the world."

"But...but..."

"Rosemary," Mac said, "Clark Palmer is a master of disguise. He's done this
before, and fooled everyone, including me."

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"No, please, you had no way of knowing."

"Rosemary," Harm asked, "can we go into your classroom? Maybe he got stupid
and left a clue somewhere."

The night janitor let them into the building, and they hurried to the
classroom. "I want this place dusted for prints," Harm said firmly. "He
must've touched something - the doorknob, a desk."

"He was wearing gloves, I remember," Mrs. Keating said.

"Well, I'll still call the police, and Terri, too. He might've left
*something* to prove he was here. Some fibers, hell, maybe an eyelash fell
out."

"He did leave something," Mac said softly. She walked slowly to the back of
the room where the children normally hung their coats and bookbags. A lone
backpack hung from one of the hooks. She gently lifted it off and squeezed
it to her chest.

Harm went over and tried to take it away from her. He wanted to keep her as
far removed from this as he could. Mac's reaction was to close her eyes and
hug the bag tighter.

"I didn't even notice it was still here," Mrs. Keating explained. "You--um,
that man, was here, and I have
twenty-two other kids...I should've paid more attention."

"It's not your fault," Harm reassured her. "This is nobody's fault but my
own, for not trusting my instincts when I knew Palmer was still on the
outside."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Please just inform the school authorities. We're going to need their total
cooperation if we send a forensics team in here."

"Consider it done. There's an empty classroom at the end of the hall I can
move my class to."

"Good idea."

"Captain?" she asked. "Will he be back? I mean, is there reason to believe
any other students here are in danger?"

Harm sighed. "No. No, I'm afraid this vendetta is very personal. There's no
risk to the other children."

They went over exactly what Palmer had said when he came for Roz, and Harm
gave Rosemary his card in case she remembered anything else. Mac was
unsteady on her feet, so Harm helped her into the car and started for home,
where they would contact everyone they needed to. Harm's knuckles were
white on the steering wheel as his mind raced through all the ways he would
take pleasure in killing Palmer. He was soon distracted by the sound of Mac
opening the zipper on Roz's bookbag.

"Mac, don't," he said quietly. He didn't know what would be in there, and he
didn't want Mac finding out first, when he was unable to put his arms around
her.

Mac reached in and pulled out Roz's pink and purple mittens and matching
hat. She had only one thought -- wherever her daughter was, she was probably
cold. Mac couldn't hold it in any longer. She buried her face in the small
mittens and cried uncontrollably.

Harm kept his eyes on the road, but could still see Mac shaking with her
violent sobs. He reached over and placed his hand on her knee and gave it a
comforting squeeze. It was all he could do until they were out of the car.

Mac took hold of his hand and held it to her face, needing to feel some part
of him close to her. Harm could feel her tears running down his hand, and he
vowed to hold her for as long as she needed after they called the police.

When they pulled up in front of the house, Harm left Mac while he went next
door to get Victor. He was as calm as possible and even managed a very fake
smile while the neighbor made small talk. He tried his best to appear
normal. He wasn't prepared to explain or answer any questions.

When he returned, Mac was waiting on the doorstep, with Roz's mittens still
clutched tightly to her. Harm unlocked the door, and putting his hand on her
back, he led her to the couch. He grabbed the phone and dialed 911.

"9-1-1 Emergency."

"Yes, I'd like to report a missing child."

"How long has the child been missing, sir?"

"I'm not sure. A few hours."

"Seven hours forty-eight minutes," Mac said, having guessed the question
from Harm's response. The teacher had said Roz left with Palmer at noon.

"Almost eight hours."

"I'm sorry, we can't file a missing child report until it's been twenty-four
hours."

"What?!"

"Sir, many kids run away, then change their minds and go home in a few
hours."

"How many five-year-olds do that?!" he exploded. "Look, I'm sorry, but she's
only five, and I *know* she didn't run away. Can't you do something?"

"I can dispatch a team to come get some information from you if you'd like."

"Yes, please." Harm gave the dispatcher his name and their address.

"Okay, and sir, if you have one, it would help if you could have a recent
photo of your daughter available."

"I will. Thank you." He hung up and took a seat beside Mac. "Sarah, honey,
the police are on their way." She nodded. "Can I get you anything?"

She shook her head. "My daughter back."

Harm wrapped his arm around her. "They'll find her," he said. "She'll be
back here doing cartwheels in the living room before we know it." He didn't
believe a word he said, but for Mac's sake, he had to be strong. Or look
that way, at least. Inside, it felt like someone was wielding a saber in his
stomach, trying to slice his way out. Mac could be so fierce and collected
sometimes, but Harm knew, when it came to their children, all bets were off.

He held Mac close until the police arrived. Harm opened the door and two
uniformed officers entered.

Captain Rabb, I'm Sergeant Christopher Bennett, and this is my partner,
Officer Paul Straka." The men shook hands and Mac acknowledged them from the
couch. She didn't trust herself to stand. The officers took out notebooks to
record the facts.

"Let's not waste any time, Captain, Mrs. Rabb." Sergeant Bennett flipped to
a clean page. "What's your daughter's full name?"

"Rosalyn Mackenize Rabb. We usually just call her Roz."

"Can you give me a description of her?"

"She's about three and a half feet tall, forty-five pounds. Long, dark brown
hair, brown eyes."

"Any distinguishing features - birthmarks? Scars?"

"No," Harm answered.

"She has a scrape," Mac interrupted. "Her right knee." Harm looked at her.
"She fell on the patio yesterday."

"Do you have a recent photo of her?"

Harm nodded and reached for his wallet. "Just took it a few days ago."

"She's a beautiful little girl," Straka spoke up. "If it's okay with you,
we'll hold on to this so we can make copies and get the word out."

"Yeah." Harm handed the officer something else he prepared before the police
came. "These are her fingerprints. We had them done a while back as part of
that SafeChild program."

"Smart man. I wish more parents would do that."

"Look, we know who took her. All we have to do is find him."

"Captain?" Bennett was surprised.

"I know who has her. His name is Clark Palmer."

"What makes you think this man took your daughter?"

"I don't think it. I *know* it." Harm was frustrated. They were wasting time
when they should be out there looking for Roz. "It's hard to explain. He's a
master of disguise, and he showed up at her school today, looking like me.
Fooled the teacher and walked right out of there with her almost nine hours
ago."

"So this Palmer guy could be your twin? We should be after someone who looks
like you?"

"No. Yes." Harm sighed and took a deep breath. He passed them a newspaper
clipping he'd saved from when Palmer escaped with the other men. "This is
him. But he's an expert in makeup, wigs, you name it. He can make himself
into the spitting image of anyone."

"The Leavenworth breakout. I remember this. 'Thought they caught those
guys."

"Not this one."

"All right, Captain, you seem to know this guy pretty well. What's his M.O.?
Any idea where he might've been headed, or what he'd be driving?"

Harm shook his head. "No, on both counts. I'd say to check with the car
rental companies, but we have no idea where or when he might've gotten one.
Or if, even. Maybe he stole a car. What's that on top of jailbreaking and
kidnapping? Besides, he could've used a phony name, and done it anywhere
between here and Kansas. Dammit."

"Well, Mr. Rabb, you've given us a few things to go on. We'll get an APB on
this guy and your daughter, and hopefully someone will spot them."

"And what do we do now?" Harm asked, indicating himself and Mac.

"The only thing you can, Captain. Wait."

"And try to keep the phone lines open," Straka said. "We'll be in touch."

"So that's it? We're just supposed to sit here?"

"I'm sorry, but yes, that's about all you can do. As soon as we get back to
the station, we'll scan Roz's picture into the system and in about twenty
minutes, every cop in the country will be on the lookout. But we'll scour
the area, too. You'd be surprised. These kinds of people, they're sick. They
get off on the thrill. So many of them stay closeby just to see the agony
they created."

"That wouldn't surprise me at all," Harm said. "Not with Palmer."

"Anyway, he might not have gone very far." They exchanged cards, and Harm
wrote their home phone number on the back of his. "Captain, Mrs. Rabb, we'll
do everything we can."

Harm closed the door after them. "Well, that's bullsh*t. I'm not gonna sit
here on my six while that bastard puts more miles between us and our little
girl."

"What are you gonna do?" Mac asked. She still hadn't let go of Roz's
backpack.

"Call in the cavalry."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Half an hour later, AJ, Webb and Terri, Bud, Harriet, and Sergei, were
gathered in Harm and Mac's living room. Their faces all showed their state
of alarm. No one knew yet what they were doing there, except that Harm had
said it was an emergency and to get there as soon as possible.

"Can I get anyone anything to drink?" Mac offered quietly, not wanting to
seem rude, even in the midst of this. Roz's backpack was still hanging from
her hand.

"Mac, sit down." Harm had to almost push her into a chair. "Thank you all
for coming so quickly."

"Brother, please," Sergei said, "what is going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," AJ said firmly.

Harm swallowed hard. He didn't want to say the words. Hearing himself say
them would make it true. He took a deep breath. "Roz is missing. She was
kidnapped."

Harriet gasped loudly and clapped her hand to her mouth. Terri's reaction
was the same, but she managed to stand up and rush over to Mac's side.

"Kidnapped?!" Webb said incredulously.

AJ tried to stay focused. "How long has she been missing, Harm?"

"Since noon. Clark Palmer showed up at her school, disguised as me again,
and walked right out with her."

"But sir," Bud said, "I thought they caught him months ago."
Harm shook his head. "No. I never believed that for a second, and I was
right."

"You are sure of this?" Sergei asked. He had heard many times the story of
how the man named Palmer had held Harm hostage in his own apartment and
copied his features so well that even Mac was fooled.

"I'm sure. We talked with Roz's teacher. She thought it was me, but Bud and
Harriet can vouch that I never left the office today. So either I've got a
twin out there, or that sick bastard's got our daughter."

"So what's the plan?" Always a man of action, AJ didn't want to waste
another minute.

"Well sir, how do you feel about a trip to Ft. Leavenworth?"

"I'm on the next flight there, son."

"Sir, he fooled the guards once before, and I want to make sure I'm right
about him doing it again. Besides the fact they need to know they've got the
wrong man in his cell."

"I'll clean up their act. Even retired, an Admiral ought to have some pull
out there."

"Thank you, sir."

"Sir, what about us?" Bud asked, speaking for himself and Harriet.

"Well Bud, as of now, you've got a new assignment. I'm not leaving this
house until my little girl is back inside it, so in my absence, you will be
the acting JAG."

"Me, sir?"

"You sir."

"Congratulations, Lieutenant," AJ said. Although Harriet's promotion to
Lieutenant Commander had come eventually, Bud's prosthesis would always make
it more difficult to advance.

"Harriet, please, *please* don't consider this a demotion, but how would you
feel about some babysitting duty? Things might get a little crazy around
here and I'm not sure Mac or I will be in any condition to take care of
Victor. I can give you the leave time, off the books."

"That won't be necessary, Mac interrupted, because things are *not* going
to get crazy around here. She spoke firmly for the first time since Harm
had come home that night, without Roz. "Things will be just fine, because
they're going to bring her back. Tonight."

Terri put her arm around Mac and could feel her trembling. From anger or
fear, she couldn't tell.

Harm shot Harriet a frustrated look. Harriet put her hand up and nodded,
trying to convey that she'd be available any time they needed her.
"Terri," Harm continued, and she looked up from where she was kneeling
beside Mac, "the police are sending a forensics team to Roz's classroom
tomorrow. Palmer was wearing gloves and a wig, but there might be some other
clues there. I'm sure they won't like it, but see if you can push your way
into that investigation."

She nodded. "I've got some contacts on the force. I'll see what I can do."

"What about me?" Webb asked. "What do you need?"

"You, Clay, are going to do what you do best - wrack your brain to figure
out his next move. You have more experience than any of us in tracking down
the most vile creatures on the planet. You've always come through for me and
Mac in the past, and we need you now more than ever."

Webb nodded. "I'll do my best. In fact, AJ, I'll join you at Leavenworth. We
may be able to get some information out of the guys who helped Palmer
escape."

"What will I do, brother? My niece is out there somewhere. What can I do?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe just stay here and keep us from losing our minds."

Sergei nodded. "Whatever you need."

AJ stood up. "I hate to rush out on you all, but unless you need me to stay,
Harm, I'm gonna go home to book my ticket and pack my bags. Mr. Webb, I
suggest you do the same."

Webb nodded. "Definitely." He looked at Terri, but she said if it was all
right, she'd stay a while longer and get a ride home from Sergei.
Webb agreed, and he and AJ grabbed their coats and headed for the door.

Mac broke out of her near-catatonic state to tell them, "Thank you for
coming."

AJ turned around. "Mac, we'll find her. You have our word."

"I know, sir. I just hope it's enough."

"Sir, ma'am," Harriet said, "we can stay too. The sitter's available for a
few more hours. We're in no rush."

"No," Harm said. "You and Bud go home and be with your children. Now is no
time to be away from them. You hug them tight and never let them go."

"We will, sir," Bud replied.

Harriet gave Mac a quick hug. "You call us anytime if you need anything."

"Or if there's any news," Bud added.

Harm walked them to the door. "Bud, if there's urgent JAG business, call my
cell phone. We need to keep our house line open for the police."

"Yes sir."

"Don't let me down."

"I won't, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Only Harm, Mac, Terri, and Sergei remained in the now quiet living room.

"I don't know what to say," Terri told Mac. Mac took her hand and the two
women sat together, knowing no words were needed. Terri wished she could do
more. Female friends were hard to come by in her line of work, and in the
past few years, she and Mac had grown quite close. They often went out for
coffee and girl-talk. They could commiserate when Harm and Webb drove them
crazy, and could relate as women in uniform.

Harm and Sergei went into the kitchen. "Harm, what are we going to do? Do
you have any idea what this guy's next move will be?"

"Besides rotting in hell, no. I'm just praying Webb and the Admiral can get
something out of the guys at Leavenworth."

"Should I tell Chloe about this?"

Harm sighed. "No. She'll be beside herself worrying, and there's nothing she
can do. God willing, Roz'll be home in no time anyway."

"Harm, this Palmer - how evil is he? I mean, do you think he's capable
of...of..."

"I don't even want to think about it, Sergei. He has no mercy. None. And if
I stop for even one second to imagine what he might be doing to her, I'll
lose it, and I need to keep it together for Mac."

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait. Wait for news from Leavenworth, wait for forensics to get started
tomorrow."

The men joined Mac and Terri in the living room and they sat together
quietly, all silently willing the phone to ring. A long while later, Mac's
internal clock told her it was 23:30. She let go of Terri's hand, which she
had been holding the entire time.

"You all must be hungry. I'll go fix something." She went to stand up, but
Terri pushed her back down.

"Mac, we're fine. Don't worry about us."

"Right," Sergei said. "In fact, Terri, maybe we should be going."

"Yeah. That investigation's going to start early tomorrow, and I intend to
be there for every second of it." She turned to Mac. "Mac, you call me
anytime, day or night, okay?" Mac nodded. "I'll be in touch tomorrow from
the scene."

"Remember to call my cell," Harm reminded her.

"I will. And I promise you, if Palmer so much as sneezed in that classroom,
we'll find the germs."

"Thanks, Teresa. For everything."

They all exchanged hugs, and then Harm and Mac were left alone with Victor
in the now empty, cavernous-seeming room. Harm left Mac alone for a few
minutes while he brought Victor upstairs to get him ready for bed. He kissed
his forehead and laid him down in the crib. He wound the knob a few times on
the mobile that hung above. Pastel colored animals hung from it and turned
in slow circles while soft, happy music played. Harm leaned over the crib
and stared at the peaceful look on his son's face. "I love you, Victor, and
your big sister's gonna be back before you even know she was gone."

If only he could believe that.

He made his way back down the stairs, but stopped in his tracks when he saw
and heard Mac. She was still on the couch, but she was shaking and sobbing
loudly, clutching a sheet of paper in her hands.

Harm got ahold of himself and rushed over to her. "Mac, what is it?!"

She handed him the paper, and for the first time that night, Harm's emotions
took over and tears flowed down his face as he embraced his wife. While Harm
was upstairs, Mac had looked in Roz's bookbag and pulled out the stray
paper. It was a piece of construction paper, with a crayon drawing of Mac in
uniform. But instead of the regulation hat, Roz had drawn her in a party
hat, and across the top of the paper, in a rainbow of colors, were the words
"Happy Birthday Mommy!"

Harm and Mac clinged to each other and cried until no more tears would fall.
"Come on, Mac. You're exhausted. Why don't you try and get some sleep. I'll
stay by the phone."

"Fat chance. I'm not sleeping until I can do it knowing Roz is safe in her
bed doing the same."

"Honey, there's nothing more you can do tonight. Look, if you want, stay
down here with me, but at least close your eyes for a little while."

"I can't."

"Mac--"

"Harm, if I fall asleep, I'm afraid I'm going to wake up in the morning, and
Roz won't be here. And then this won't be just some horrible dream I'm
trapped in."

"Mac, we'll get her back. And then that's exactly what this will be - a bad
dream."

"Harm, you don't know that. We have *no* idea where she is."

"Maybe not, but I have a little faith in the police. And I have more than
faith in AJ, Webb, and everyone else. I've trusted them with my life before,
and now I'm trusting them with Roz's. They'll find her, and she'll be fine."

"You believe that?"

"Yes."

And he did. For now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE NEXT MORNING
SOMEWHERE OVER THE APPALACHIANS

Webb and AJ were able to get seats in business class so they would have room
to work during the flight to Kansas.

"Mr. Webb, that little girl might as well be my granddaughter, and we have
*got* to get her back. We're the best chance Harm and Mac have."

"I know. I've called ahead, so they'll be expecting us." He handed AJ a file
with the pictures, service records, and prison records of the three men who
escaped with Palmer.

"Look at them," AJ said. "Look at their eyes. You can tell they're not right
in the head."

"I think we should interview them all separately so they can't lean on each
other. I just hope they haven't had any time together to make up a story."

"Even if they have, I'll get to the bottom of this. Hell hath no fury like a
SeAL on a mission."

"Hoo-rah."

Three hours later, Webb and AJ were meeting with Colonel Ron Francis, the
head of security at Ft. Leavenworth.

"Colonel, I am Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden, Retired, and this is Clayton
Webb."

"Admiral, Mr. Webb," he shook their hands. "What can I help you with this
morning? You said something about some interrogations?"

"Yes, Colonel. You had a breakout here a few months back, and we have reason
to believe one of the men is still on the loose."

"Admiral, the four escapees were apprehended two days later and have all
been under maximum surveillance ever since."

"Well I trust you believe that, but it's even more serious than that."

"Sir?"

"The one who's still out there has kidnapped the five-year-old daughter of
the Navy's Judge Advocate General."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"I'm afraid not," Webb answered. "Please humor us, Colonel, and take us to
Clark Palmer's cell. We've got some questions for whoever's inside it."

Several minutes later, they arrived at the cell. "Palmer!" Colonel Francis
yelled.

The man on the bed looked up. "Yeah?"

"On your feet!"

The man got up and walked up to the bars, where the men waited on the
opposite side.

"Who the hell are you?" AJ demanded.

"Well, my underwear says Clark Palmer."

AJ was not amused. "I'll bet it does. What kind of stunt is this?"

"I don't know, is the circus in town?"

AJ reached through the bars and grabbed the man by the neck. "Say the truth
or say your prayers, 'cuz all I have to do is squeeze and you'll be meeting
your maker!"

"I am Clark Palmer," the man choked.

AJ released him, and in so doing threw him back a few feet. "Dammit! Stop
covering for him! He's not worth it!"

"I've got me a three-month supply of cigarettes that says he is."

"Let's get out of here before I kill this bastard."

They went back to the Colonel's office, and AJ began a tirade that had him
red with fury. Even in retirement, his command presence was overwhelming.
"Colonel, this is a disgrace!"

"A disgrace, sir!" The colonel stood crisply at attention.

"This man has fooled this institution not once, but twice! If there is any
excuse for this, please enlighten me!"

"No excuse sir!"

"Is this a military prison or a three-ring circus?! I know little girls who
keep better tabs on their Barbie dolls than you keep on these criminals!
What do you have to say for yourself, Colonel?!"

"Nothing sir! I'm ashamed of myself and my staff, sir!"

"You're damn right you are!"

"Sir, with all due respect, I was assigned to this command three weeks ago.
The escape took place under my predecessor, Colonel Paul Hull."

"Are you trying to pass the blame, Colonel?!"

"No sir! Just thought the Admiral should know the reason Colonel Hull is no
longer in command is because he's in one of the cells instead. Pled no
contest to fraud and embezzlement of prison funds. It's possible he helped
Palmer escape himself."

AJ considered Francis' words. "This place is an embarrassment to military
justice!"

"Overhauling it as we speak, sir! That's my immediate job duty."

AJ took a few breaths to calm down. "All right. Colonel, if your hunch
proves correct, and I can get anything useful out of this Hull guy, I'll buy
you a round at the O-club. But I want to talk to him *now,* and Mr. Webb
here will deal first with..." he flipped through the files on the escapees,
"PFC Adam Hughes."

"Yes sir. Admiral, Mr. Webb, please follow me. I'll escort the prisoners
myself, and guards will be stationed right outside the interrogation rooms."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SAME MORNING
0830 EST
HARM AND MAC'S HOUSE

Sergei used the spare key he had and quietly opened the front door. He
suspected his brother and sister-in-law weren't sleeping, but he didn't want
to make much noise in case they were. He got inside and saw them on the
couch, both awake but with bloodshot eyes.

"No news yet?"

Harm shook his head. "No. Nothing."

"Coffee?" Sergei carried a cardboard holder with several large coffees from
a big-name cafe in the neighborhood.

"Yeah, thanks." Harm got up and took one for himself and one for Mac. Mac
turned her head at the offering. "Mac, look, you've got to get something in
your system. You haven't had anything since breakfast yesterday."

"Maybe later," she said grudgingly.

"I have bagels, too," Sergei said, as he held up the large bag.

Harm took a sesame bagel and didn't even bother cutting it or putting
anything on it before taking a big bite. "Sergei, why don't you go to work
today. We don't need you to be here."

"Maybe you don't need me, brother, but I need you. You're not the only one
who was up all night sick with worry, y'know. Roz may not be my daughter,
but she is my niece. I grew up with no family, and now I have so much, and
my mind won't rest until she's home."

"I'm sorry, Sergei. Please, don't take anything personally right now. This
is really hard for all of us."

Mac stood up and yawned and stretched. "I'll go check on Victor."

"Mac, please, rest. I'll do it," Sergei offered.

She fell back onto the couch. "Thanks. There's a bottle of formula in the
fridge."

Harm followed Sergei into the kitchen.

"Did you get any sleep at all, brother?"

"No. But I did conduct a scientific experiment during the night."

"Yes? What did you find out?"

"That I do not have telekinetic powers."

"And how did you come to this conclusion?"

Well, I stared at the phone for eight hours and it still didn't ring."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little while later, they were all settled in the living room, drinking
coffee and watching the morning news. Mac marveled at how the world
seemed to go on as it always had. Weather reports, stock indicators,
everything. It was ludicrous. Didn't they know a little girl was missing?!

Around 11:30, Harm's cell phone rang. He looked at the display and
recognized the familiar number. "It's Terri," he told Mac and Sergei.

"Terri, what've you got for me?"

"Hey Harm, not much, unfortunately. If he was wearing gloves, we won't find
any prints. We did manage to find a few hairs, but they're synthetic. I
guess his wig-making skills aren't what they used to be if these fell out."

"Anything else?"

"We found several dark blue fibers, and we've already matched them to a
standard issue Navy officer's jacket. But there's no way to prove
conclusively that Palmer was here. Harm, I'm sorry."

Harm sighed. "It's all right. We knew it was a longshot. And anyway, I don't
need proof to know."

"How's Mac holding up?"

"Not so good. I may have to force feed her something before the day's over."

"She'll be okay, Harm, and so will Roz. These are two very strong ladies."

"I know. But this is gonna take more than just strength. Terri, you keep me
posted if there's anything else."

"You know I will. We're not done here yet."

"Thank you - for everything." He ended the call and put his phone down on
the table. Mac and Sergei looked up at him expectantly. He sat on the couch
next to Mac and shook his head.

"Nothing. But we knew there was little to no chance anyway. I just thought
it they found anything, it would make it that much easier to nail his ass to
the wall."

"I don't need any evidence to do that," Mac said. She was keeping so quiet
since Roz had gone missing, but in moments here and there she spoke loudly
and with determination. Harm much preferred that to her silence. It was good
to be reminded Mac still had a presence of mind. He didn't want her
retreating into herself. If, God forbid, Roz never came back, he was afraid
Mac wouldn't either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, back at Leavenworth...

Webb was trying to get information out of PFC Adam Hughes, one of the men
who'd escaped with Palmer. The room was hot and uncomfortable, but Webb knew
it was to his benefit. The more unpleasant, the quicker he could break
Hughes, who would want out of there as much as he did.

"Why'd you do it, Hughes?"

"Why do you th-think?" The young man couldn't have been more than nineteen,
and spoke with a nervous stutter. "Look at this place. Such t-tiny cells.
No room to breathe."

"You're claustrophobic?"

"Y-yes. I trained as the f-fourth man in a tank. Holed up in one of those
training for hours every day. D-drives a man crazy."

"Is that how you wound up in here?"

"Yeah. K-killed my CO and another officer. Had the best marksmanship scores
in my platoon."

"It's a shame you didn't take that rifle to Clark Palmer's head instead.
What made you think you'd get away with it?"

"Palmer. He's a g-genius. We only got caught because of the r-rental car."

"How did Palmer break away?"

"Went to the bathroom. Must've slipped out the w-window."

"So the clerk at the rental place never even saw him? He thought there were
only three of you?"

"Yeah."

"Where was Palmer headed?"

"D-don't know."

"You must know something, Hughes!"

"He never said. Just get out and get the c-car. That was our job."

"He didn't tell you anything? Where you would all go after that?"

"N-no. He was the brains. We were the muscle."

"Why does that not surprise me," Webb muttered under his breath. "So he ran
off and left you three to get caught?" The Private nodded.

"Can't you see he used you? Why don't you help me nail him?"

"Told you, I don't know anything."

"Come on, Private! I don't believe that for a second. Palmer's an egomaniac,
he'd be bragging about it the entire time!"

Hughes only shrugged. Webb was exasperated. Harm was counting on him.
"Dammit Hughes, I need your help. This is bigger than you and the escape,
and it's bigger than Palmer. I can tell you're a good kid. You don't want to
be here any more than I would. Boy, the Army tries to teach you something
and instead it drives you out of your mind. I know you didn't mean to kill
those men, Adam."

"Th-think about it every day. Wish I could go back and ch-change it."

"Well, I'm giving you a shot at redemption right now. Tell me anything you
can remember and maybe, just maybe, we can knock some time off your
sentence." Webb didn't have that kind of authority, but he doubted Hughes
knew that.

"New York," Hughes said.

"Huh?"

"P-Palmer. He said he had friends in New York."

"State or city?"

"City. Talked about going to Coney Island for h-hot dogs at Nathan's. Said
prison food was k-killing him."

"He went to Brooklyn?"

"I don't know. J-just that he knew people in New York."

"Did he say anything else?"

"I'm sorry. That's all I know."

"Thank you, Private. You may have just saved a little girl's life."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Webb handed him his card. "Look, if you remember anything at
all, call that number, day or night."

"I only get one call a w-week."

"They'll make an exception."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few rooms down, AJ was not getting as much cooperation from Colonel Hull,
the head of security at the time of Palmer's escape. He'd been questioning
the man for a long while and hadn't learned anything useful.

"Did you help them escape?"

The man was silent.

"Did you help them stage the riot to distract the guards?"

Hull continued to stare at the wall.

"Dammit, you better start talking!"

"I have the right to remain silent."

"Not in here you don't. Not with me."

"Being in jail doesn't mean I'm not an American citizen. The Fifth Amendment
still applies to me."

"Well that's convenient now, isn't it? You use this country when it suits
your purpose, and when it doesn't, you spit all over it! Where was your
loyalty when those convicts broke out of here? Huh?! Where is it now that
one of them is still free?!"

"I have new loyalties now."

"To Clark Palmer? I'd rethink that one if I were you. He uses people to his
own ends and throws them away. You did half the job - you started the riot,
didn't you? I read your file. I know you picked a fight with a guy twice
your size in the chow line."

"I fell outside. We had a football game during free time."

"And from that you had a broken leg, two broken ribs and internal bleeding?
Cut the crap, Hull. Palmer's not worth it."

"Unity above all else. A man doesn't rat on his friends."

AJ slammed his hands down on the table. "Clark Palmer is nobody's friend but
his own! And I suspect you won't feel like such a man with my foot so far up
your--"

"Guard!!" Hull shouted.

The guard threw open the door and rushed in. "Admiral! Everything okay?"

"What are you, brain dead?" Hull snapped. "*I'm* the one who called you!"

The guard rolled his eyes, dismissing the claim. He looked to AJ. "Sir?"

"We're fine, Corporal, thank you."

"Yes sir." He shut the door behind him.

"Dammit Hull, whatever Palmer did for you, he doesn't deserve your help now.
Do you have any idea where he might've gone? Did he ever mention any places
to you?"

"If he did, why would I tell you?"

AJ towered over the man. "You're already doing ten years in here. You wanna
make it fifteen?!" AJ took a minute to calm down. "This is a matter of life
and death."

"For who?"

"A very special little girl."

"Awwa, well ain't that sweet. But seeing as it's not *my* life and death..."

"Dammit Hull! What the hell happened to you?! You were a decent Marine."

"Every man's got his breaking point."

"I'm glad you're in those coveralls. You'd be a disgrace to the uniform
now." AJ left the room and addressed the guard. "Corporal, you can take that
animal back to his cage now. But I may be back later."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Webb and AJ interrogated the other two men who'd escaped with Palmer, but
hadn't learned anything new. They merely confirmed that Palmer talked about
New York now and then, but never said for sure that's where he would go.
They questioned the men for hours and got every detail about the escape, but
nothing afterward. They wanted desperately to get information that could
help lead them to Roz, but it was no use. Palmer hadn't told them anything,
and no amount of questioning could elicit knowledge that they simply didn't
have.

Somewhat dejected, they went to their hotel to call Harm. Even on cell
phones, it didn't seem safe to call from inside Leavenworth. Webb and AJ
both sensed someone there knew more than he was revealing, and they didn't
want the wrong ears hearing any part of their conversation.

Harm answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Harm, it's AJ."

"Admiral! What can you tell me?"

"Not much. The three guys who escaped with Palmer seem pretty harmless.
Timid, even. They wanted to help, but they honestly had no information. Webb
and I agree they're probably telling the truth. They're really no more than
kids, and our guess is Palmer used them to throw the cops off his scent.
There's an ex-Colonel Paul Hull, who was chief of security at the time of
the breakout, and it seems he was in on it. He wasn't exactly cooperative,
but I'm sure that between Webb and I, we'll get him to talk."

"Isn't there anything? Any leads at all, sir?"

"Maybe. The three guys all mentioned Palmer talking about New York City."

"New York, sir?"

"Yeah. He never specifically said that's where he was headed, but he talked
about a few places there, like maybe he grew up there or something."

"Admiral, thank you. This is the first real thing we have to go on."

AJ could hear the desperation in Harm's voice. "Harm, it may or may not lead
anywhere. You know Palmer, he could've just said that to throw us off."

"Maybe sir, but right now it's all we've got."

AJ felt sick, wishing he could do more. "Harm, you sound terrible. Have you
gotten any sleep, son?"

"Not much. Every time I close my eyes..."

"I know. But you've got to try. If we're all gonna get to the bottom of
this, we need our heads working. Now what about Mac?"

"She's not doing much better, sir. We both have good and bad moments. One
minute I'm crazy ranting, wanting to find her, and the next, well..."

"I'm listening."

"The next I'm wondering if he hasn't already--"

"He hasn't! Don't even *think* that way. Harm, you know better than anyone,
this is Palmer's game. This is how he operates. The more scared you get, the
more you give up hope, the more he paralyzes you. And you can't let him win.
I won't let you. Dammit, your little girl is fine! I believe it, Webb
believes it, and if we're gonna bring her home, you better believe it, too!"

AJ could hear Harm's breathing ragged from almost crying. "I do, sir."

"I can't hear you, Captain!"

"I do sir!"

"You do what?!"

"I believe my daughter's alive and I'm gonna find her!!"

"You're damn right you are!!"

Webb eyed AJ strangely strangely, as he was only privy to AJ's half of the
conversation. "Harm, you and Mac do your best to get some sleep.

You're gonna need it. Because this may or may not be quick, but it
definitely won't be easy."

"Yes sir. Thank you again, and Clay too. I can't thank you enough."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sergei came downstairs from Victor's room. "Brother, who was that? I heard
you shouting."

"It was the Admiral. I've gotta call Bud. Time's wasting." AJ's phone call
had renewed Harm's sense of purpose. He hit the speed dial for JAG
headquarters. He was so overcome with urgency that he forgot himself when
his yeoman answered.

"Judge Advocate General's office, Petty Officer Green--"

"Joe, it's Harm. I need to talk to Bud, *now.*"

"Yes sir, I'll transfer you to Lieutenant Roberts."

"Sir?" Bud answered.

"Bud, listen, I need you to pull any files we have on Clark Palmer at ops."

"What am I looking for, sir?"

"Anything that makes any reference at all to New York. Anything he ever said
or did in New York or about New York. There's a chance that's where he is?"

"Yes sir. I'll get right on it."

"Bud, grab everyone you can to help. Ten pairs of eyes are better than one.
Have them drop everything. Right now, this is priority number one, and if
anyone questions that order, you have them call me. Or, better yet, throw
'em right in the brig."

"Aye, sir. I'll be in touch as soon as we find anything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next few hours, Harm, Mac, and Sergei bided their time, waiting for
information - from AJ and Webb, Terri, or Bud. Harm sighed and went outside,
slamming the door loudly behind him. Sergei looked to Mac, who nodded in
answer to his silent question of whether he should go after Harm.

"You will be all right?"

"Sergei, I know it may look that way, but I don't need a babysitter."

"I know. We are just worried about you."

"Well don't be. I'm doing enough worrying for ten people. I know I've been
quiet. There's just nothing to say. Nothing I can do yet, until we know
more. Words aren't going to bring my daughter home."

"No, but actions will, and we're going to act as soon as we have something
substantial to go on. We'll find her, Mac. Harm promises, and I promise."

Sergei's passionate speech was of only mild comfort to Mac. Keeping promises
was something both Rabb men held sacred. But sometimes, promises had a way
of getting broken.

Sergei joined Harm out on the front porch. Winter was coming on quickly and
Sergei could see his breath in the cold air. He put his hand on Harm's
shoulder. "Brother?"

Harm kept his back to him. "She's out there somewhere."

"Yes, and we will find her."

He turned around. I know. It's just, the longer it takes...and what am I
doing? Sitting in my house, like some helpless--"

"What, Harm?"

He shook his head. "I was gonna say, like some helpless little girl."

"Rosalyn is very smart, brother. I'm sure she's trying her best to stay
safe."

"I know that. But she's never been away from home before, let alone without
me or Mac." He slammed his fist down on the railing. "I should be out there,
doing something!"

"What, brother? Tell me, what would you do? Ask every person in the country
if they've seen her? We have to wait until we at least have a starting
point. You can't go out there like a crazy person."

Harm sighed. "I know. But that doesn't make it hurt any less. Roz is out
there. She could be cold, hungry, or worse. Meanwhile, my six is collecting
dust sitting in a nice warm living room."

"Harm, please. Right now, there is a woman in that very living room who
needs you. I know you want to tear through every town looking for Rosalyn,
but you have to stay calm for Mac's sake. She is being very brave. What do
you think it will do to her if she sees you fall apart?"

"Sergei, my *child* is missing! Aren't I allowed to fall apart?!"

"Yes, brother, out here, with me. And if you need to, then let it out. But
when we go back through that door, I don't want to hear any doubt or fear in
your voice. You got that?"

Harm nodded, but he couldn't stop himself from taking Sergei up on his
offer. He bit his lip and buried his face in his hands as a wave of tears
hit him. Sergei embraced him tightly and stayed strong while Harm shook with
wracking sobs.

"It's okay, brother. Go ahead." As Sergei held his brother, it hit him how
wonderful and terrible life could be. He had grown up with his mother on the
farm, knowing nothing of other family except the face he saw in an old
picture of an escaped American POW. His world flipped upside down the day he
came across a US Navy officer, with the same name and the very same face, on
a mission in Russia. If he lived to be a million, he would never forget how
time had stopped in the moment he looked into the eyes of the son of
Lieutenant Harmon Rabb. Though the Lieutenant's wife Trish would never
accept him, Harm's friends had become an instant family to him. And now,
part of his real family was in danger.

Harm collected himself after a few minutes. "You're a good uncle, you know
that, Sergei?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little while later, Mac was upstairs feeding Victor when the phone rang.
Everyone had been instructed to call Harm's cell, so when the house line
rang, Harm lunged for it, thinking it was the police.

"Hello!"

"Harm, hi," Trish Burnett said cheerfully.

"Oh, mom, it's you." He didn't bother to hide his disappointment.

"Well gee, it's nice to hear your voice too. What's the matter, Harm? I
tried you at the office today, but Bud answered your phone. He wouldn't
tell me why you weren't there. He said I should just call you at home."

"Oh God." In all the chaos during the past few days, it had completely
slipped Harm's mind to call his mother.

"What is it, dear?"

Mac came running downstairs to see if there was any news. Harm shook his
head at her.

"Mom, youd better get Frank on the phone too."

Harm, you're scaring me."

"Just put him on." He could hear her call to him.

"Frank! Pick up the phone, something's wrong with Harm!"

"Harm?" Frank said after picking up. "What's going on?"

"It's not me. It's Roz. She was kidnapped."

"What?!" Trish shouted at the same time Frank exclaimed, "Kidnapped?!"

"Harm, what happened?" she asked.

"It's a long story. Bottom line is, we know who has her and now we're trying
to piece together some leads to go after him."

"Who is it?" Frank asked.

"You remember Clark Palmer?"

"That animal!" Trish yelled. "I'll kill him!"

"Get in line," Harm said. "I never trusted that he was back in prison after
that escape a few months ago. Anyway, we know for sure he's got her, now we
just need to find him."

"Any idea where he took her?" Frank asked.

"Not yet, but we're working on it. I commandeered the entire JAG staff, and
they're going over his files with a fine-tooth comb."

Oh, sweetheart," Trish said, "What can we do? Do you want us to come out
there? We can be there by morning."

"Mom, no, but thanks. There's nothing you can do right now."

"We could take care of Victor and give you and Mac a break."

Harm thought of Sergei, who was already doing that. And his mother had no
desire to cross paths with him. "Um, no, it's all right. We're covered on
that end."

"Well, how's Mac? She must be a basketcase."

"Sometimes. But she's holding up. Better than me, at times."

"Oh Harm, are you sure you can't use some extra hands out there?"

"No, really. This place is already a madhouse. All you can do is the same
thing we're doing - wait." He wouldn't ask her to pray. Harm and his mother
had long ago lost faith in the power of prayer to bring people home.

"Well Harm," Frank said, "when you do have more information, if you need
anything - money, use of the corporate jet, you just name it. Anything to
get our granddaughter back."

"Thanks Frank. I might take you up on that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Following Day

Bud had called Harm the night before to discuss Palmer's New York
connection. He and the JAG staff had found a few references in the files
they'd gone through so far, but nothing very revealing. They would go over
everything again and try to make sense of it, and Bud would report to Harm
again later that evening.

Around dinnertime, the doorbell rang. Harm answered it, and it was Harriet,
with a covered foil pan in one hand, and a plastic shopping bag in the
other.

"Harriet, hi, come on in."

"Dinner delivery, sir."

"What? Harriet, you shouldn't have."

"Sir, with all due respect, you and the Colonel need to eat, and I know
cooking hasn't exactly been high in your priorities." She held up the bag.
"Now I've got paper plates, napkins, and plastic silverware, so you don't
even have to wash any dishes."

Harm eyed the glass dish. "Well, it does smell good. And seeing as you've
come all this way..."

"Good! Then you'll take it. I just made it, so it's still hot." She handed
him the pan and the bag. "You and the Colonel enjoy, sir." She turned to
leave.

"Harriet, wait. Please, stay and have some with us."

"Oh, sir, I couldn't impose on you like that."

Harm put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her into the foyer. "You won't
be imposing. Sergei had to go in to work today, and Mac and I have been
sitting around all day, staring at each other, waiting for news that isn't
coming. We could use the company."

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Absolutely." He put the dish down on an end table and took Harriet's coat
off before she could protest. "And Harriet, it's Harm and Mac tonight,
okay?"

"Yes sir." She smiled. "I mean, Harm. And this works out well, because Bud's
staying late at ops to look at those files again."

Mac was upstairs with Victor, but she came down when she heard Harriet's
voice. "Harriet, hi. What is that wonderful smell?"

"Baked ziti. I hope that's all right. I didn't think you'd feel much like
cooking."

"No, that's great. I was supposed to go shopping two days ago, but..." She
paused and took a deep breath. "Anyway, I'm afraid my poor husband has been
living on yogurt and Power Bars, and me, well, I haven't had much of an
appetite."

In a few minutes, Harriet had the kitchen table set and the ziti dished out
on the paper plates.

"Mmmm. Harriet, this is perfect," Harm said. "Not even any meat in the
sauce."

Mac took a few small bites, but soon she was just pushing the food around
her plate with a fork. She watched in astonishment as Harm inhaled his food
and reached for seconds.

"Mac, aren't you hungry?" Harriet asked.

Harm looked at her still-full plate. "Mac, you have to eat. You need your
strength."

"For what?!" she exploded. "To sit around here all day waiting for the phone
to ring? Harm, I could do that in my sleep! How can you sit there and eat
and talk like nothing's wrong? Like this is just some every day dinner!" She
threw her napkin down and ran from the table.

Harm stood up to go after her, but Harriet stopped him. "Harm, let her go."
He stared at her. "Give her some time. If you never let her get it out,
it'll make it worse. Just let her go off and cry and scream and swear. She
needs to do this."

Harm could see Mac grab her coat and go out on the front porch. He sat back
down with a sigh. "I feel so powerless. I can't even help her."

"Harm, listen to me. She doesn't need your help. She doesn't need to be
strong, and she doesn't need to 'suck it up.' What she needs is to be a
mother, scared out of her mind, and you need to let her do that for a little
while."

Harm knew she was right. He didn't like it, but he understood. They finished
eating in silence, until Victor started crying upstairs. Harm got up to go
check on him.

"Go ahead," Harriet said. "I'll clean up down here." Harriet threw away the
paper goods, wiped down the table, and put the remaining ziti in the
refrigerator. It would give Harm and Mac at least another meal or two. She
went into the living room and could see Mac still out on the porch. She sat
on the couch for a few minutes, but was soon distracted by the soft sound of
crying. And not that of a baby.

She went upstairs and her heart lunged when she caught sight of Harm. He sat
in a rocking chair in Victor's room, cradling his son to his chest, and
weeping like she'd never imagined him capable of.

"What about me?" Harm asked. "Don't I get to scream and cry? Be a father,
scared out of his mind?"

Harriet nodded and let him cry. She had no idea what to say. But she didn't
have to say anything. After a few minutes, Harm continued on.

"What are we gonna do?" he said through his tears. "What are we gonna do? If
we don't get her back--"

"You will. And don't you dare think otherwise."

Harm sniffled. "Harriet, it's been almost three days. He might've...she
could already be--"

"Don't say it! Harm, listen to me. I know what it's like to really lose a
child. My little Sarah's never coming back, and I'm still trying to answer
that question - what I'm gonna do. But I'll tell you what *you're* gonna do.
You're *not* going to give up, that's what! And if all we can do right now
is stay positive and believe that she's okay, then by God, that's what we're
gonna do!!"

She managed to make Harm smile a tiny bit. "You give good orders, Lieutenant
Commander."

"I learned from the best." Harriet took Victor and set him down in his crib.

Harm calmed down. "Harriet, I..." he shook his head. "I'm sorry. Mac and I,
we weren't really there for you after...after Sarah. We should've done
more."

Harriet shook her head. "There was nothing you could do. Nothing anyone
could do, really. It was just one of those things. And you did more than you
know. That night, when I went to see you..."

"All I did was listen."

"But that's exactly what I needed. Bud was no help. He couldn't understand.
What you said to me that night, I'll never be able to repay you."

Harm considered what had just transpired between them. "I think you just
did." He got up and took her hands. "I've said it before, and I'll say it
again. Bud is a very lucky man." He pulled Harriet into a tight hug and held
on while he gave thanks for people like her. People who kept him from
falling off the edge.

When they let go, Harm said, "Now I think I better check on Mac. It's been
a while." They headed downstairs and Harm went onto the porch.

"You all right?" he asked.

Mac nodded. "Yeah. Did Harriet tell you to let me go?"

"How'd you know?"

"Because if she hadn't, you would've been out here twenty five minutes ago.
But that's okay. She was right. I needed some time by myself."

"Well, are you ready to come back in? It's freezing out here."

Mac nodded and followed him inside. All she could think about were Roz's
mittens and scarf, hanging in the coat closet.

Harm and Mac thanked Harriet again for the food, and Mac saw her to the
door. As soon as she was gone, the house phone rang. For the second time
that day, Harm jumped to get it.

"Hello!.....No! We already get the Post!" He slammed the phone back down.
"Our daughter's missing and they're trying to sell us the f*cking
newspaper!"

"Harm," Mac said, "Harm, calm down." She took his hand and led him to the
couch. "Let's just...rest." She picked up the remote control and turned on
the news. Harm put his arm around her and she leaned her head against his
chest. Harm took it as a good sign that she was trying to relax. She had
barely slept or eaten in three days and she couldn't go on like that much
longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day started much as the one before it, with no news of new leads.
But around noon, Harm's cell phone rang, and he saw on the display that the
number had a New York City area code.

"Hello?"

"Oh, so you can say hello to me now, but not when you see me on the street?"

"What? Chloe, is that you?"

"Look at that - he remembers my name. I was beginning to wonder."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Harm. You know what I'm talking about. You were so rude!"

"Chloe, I assure you, I have no idea what you mean. Just humor me and start
from the beginning."

"This morning, when I saw you, you didn't say hello. I called your name. You
looked right at me and didn't even say hi."

Suddenly, it clicked. Harm swallowed hard. "You saw me in New York today?"

"Yeah, aren't you still here in the city?"

He ignored the question. "Was Roz with me?!"

Harm, of course she was. What kind of question is that?"

"Where did you see us?"

"Harm--"

"Chloe, this is important!"

"You know where we were - on 56th, near Carnegie Hall."

"Was Roz all right?! Did she look okay?!"

"Harm, are *you* all right? What's going on?"

"Chloe, Roz was kidnapped three days ago."

"What?! Oh my God!"

"The man you saw with Roz - it wasn't me. I'm home, in Virginia. It was
Clark Palmer. He's an expert in disguises. He could fool anyone."

"Mac's told me about him. Oh, Harm, they were right here and I let them get
away!"

"Honey, it's not your fault. You didn't know. We didn't tell you because we
didn't want to scare you."

"Too late!"

"Chloe, listen. Is there anything you can tell us? Do you know where they
went, what they were doing? And how did Roz look?!" he demanded again.

Chloe spoke as rapidly as her heart was beating. "Okay, first, from what I
could tell, she looked fine. I was filming part of my next project, and I
saw you - uh, Palmer, push her into a taxi, and that's when I called out to
you - him. I didn't get a good look, but she seemed okay."

"Wait a minute. You got this on videotape?"

"Yeah. I was filming a scene on the corner."

A thousand thoughts went running through Harm's head. "Chloe, I need you to
overnight me a copy of that tape. Charge it if you need to; I'll pay you
back. But I need that tape as soon as possible. You said there was a taxi?"

"Yeah."

"We can get the cab number off the tape and call the cab company. Maybe
they can tell us who drove it at that time and maybe he'll remember where he
took them."

"There's a Fedex station on campus. I'll drop it off right now."

"God bless you, Chloe. You might've just saved her life."

Chloe cringed. "Harm..." Her stomach started doing flip-flops.

"Chloe, it's all right. Don't cry. We're gonna get her back soon." But it
was easier said than done. He could hear her lose the battle against her
tears. "Chloe, I've got some calls to make now, but I'll have Sergei call
you, okay?"

"Okay," she sniffled.

"We love you."

"I love you guys, too."

Mac came downstairs and Harm told her what happened with Chloe. "So we
should have the tape first thing in the morning," he said.

"Harm, it's only a four hour drive to New York. You could go there *now* and
see it tonight."

"I thought about that, but I can't leave you."

"Harm, I'll be fine."

"No. I'm staying right here with you for now. There's a chance that by the
time I even got to New York and looked at the tape, Palmer could be hundreds
of miles away."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harm called Sergei at work and explained everything.

"Then Roz, she is all right?" Sergei asked.

"Chloe didn't get a good look at her, but she said she seemed okay."

"Well, that's good news."

"Yeah, but I won't feel any better until she's back in our house, laughing
and smiling at me and Mac. Sergei, I think Chloe's really scared. You need
to call her."

"I will, brother. I hope you find what you're looking for on the tape."

"So do I, Sergei. So do I."

They said goodbye, and Sergei immediately called Chloe at her dorm,
expecting to leave a message.

"Hello?"

"Chloe, it's me. I didn't expect you to be there."

"Oh, Sergei! I couldn't go to class with this on my mind!"

He could hear her voice start to break up. "Are you all right?"

"No. Sergei, they were right here. I saw them, and I let him just leave
with her!"

"Shh...it's okay."

"No it's not! I should've known something was wrong. Harm would never ignore
me like that."

"Listen to me, Chloe, it's not your fault. You're the biggest help we've had
so far. Your tape might help us find her."

Chloe had no reply, only more sniffles. "I'm so scared for her."

"Do you want me to come up there?"

"I can't ask you to miss work for me."

"I have many vacation days saved up. If you need me, just say so, and I'm on
my way. I can be there in a few hours."

"You would do that?"

"Chloe, you are the most important person in life. Of course I would."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you want me there or not?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Then I'll see you by dinnertime."

"I love you, Sergei."

"I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day, Bud called with an update on the research. "Sir, I'm sorry
it's taking so long, but you'd be amazed at the number of files we have on
him."

"I'm afraid I know all too well, Bud."

"Yes sir. Well, we've found a lot of New York phone numbers and addresses,
and now we're making some calls and contacting the Post Office to see which
are the most recent, and if they're even still in service."

"Great work, Bud. And thank the staff for me, too. I'll have to invite them
all to Roz's welcome home party."

"Sir?"

"There's been a new development. Chloe saw Roz with Palmer in New York this
morning, and she even got it on film. So they were definitely in the city,
but the question now is, are they still there?"

"Right sir. Was Roz all right?"

"As far as we know, yes, but I'll believe it when I see it. Bud, keep
plugging away on those files and call me as soon as you have something
solid."

"Aye sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"See, Mac?" Harm said to her later. "We're going crazy for nothing. Chloe
said she looked fine, and we'll have her back in no time."

"Well, her tape is definitely the best news we've had in days."

"She's a hell of a kid. I guess it pays to have friends and family all over
the country, huh?"

"Yeah..."

Mac's voice trailed off, and Harm could tell she had something else to say.
"Honey, what is it?" Mac shook her head. "Come on, you were going to say
something."

"I don't know why it's not working."

"What's not working?"

"My...visions. I'm trying so hard, and I'm not seeing anything. It worked
for Chloe, and for you. Why won't it work now?"

Harm put his arm around her. "I don't know. But if you knew how to turn it
on and off at will, then you'd probably have your own psychic hotline by
now."

"I'd sure make a lot more money than I do now, giving Marine recruits the
ASVAB and helping them pick specialties." They both laughed.

"How can I be smiling at a time like this?"

"Mac, it's all right. We've been pulled about as tight as we can go. The
tension's got to relieve itself somehow, and it's okay."

Very suddenly, Harm's demeanor changed completely.

"Harm, what is it?"

Harm's eyes seemed to look in every direction as he was lost in thought.

"Harm?"

"I can't believe I didn't see the connection."

"Harm, what are you talking about?"

"Her dream. The night of Webb and Terri's party, Roz had a nightmare that
she was kidnapped. She said she was with someone who looked like me, but she
knew it wasn't me. Oh God, she saw this coming."

"Wait - she had a dream about this? Where was I?"

"You slept through the whole thing. You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to
wake you."

"She knew this was going to happen. She could see it. Harm, she has the
visions, too."

"Oh great," Harm groaned. "You couldn't have passed down something like your
internal clock? No, she had to inherit the spooky stuff."

"Harm, that 'spooky stuff' saved your life, and I'm not going to dismiss it
now. Did she say anything else? Anything that could help us?"

"No. She was crying too hard. She said she didn't know where she was. Mac,
she was terrified, and that was only in a dream!"

"Harm, stop! Don't make me think about that. If I close my eyes and
concentrate..."

Mac spent the rest of the evening swimming in her subconscious, searching
for Palmer and her daughter. She was so worn out from it, that for the first
time in days, she fell asleep for more than two hours at a time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early the next morning, the doorbell rang. It was the Fedex from Chloe, and
Harm was up waiting for it. A bleary-eyed Mac woke up, and Harm handed her a
cup of coffee and put the tape in the VCR. He was ready with a paper and pen
to take notes on anything that could help them.

The first few minutes were the scene Chloe was filming that morning, but
soon, a taxi pulled up to a curb in the background. Harm and Mac both saw it
at the same time - the man hailing the cab was Harm's double, down to the
stripes on the uniform.

"There he is!" Mac shouted.

Harm nodded. "And there's Roz." On the tape, Palmer was pushing her into the
backseat of the taxi, and they could hear Chloe shouting

Harm's name above the street noise. Palmer stopped, looked right at the
camera, and got into the car.

Harm rewound the tape and paused it so he could take down the cab number and
license plate information. "Shouldn't be too hard to track down the driver
now," he said.

"Harm, rewind it again."

He did as Mac asked, and when the scene was over, she asked him to play it
one more time and pause it where they could see Roz.

"What are you looking for?"

"Just do it." When the tape was still, Mac walked up to the screen and
studied closely. "Her face...is that a...a bruise?"

Harm got up and looked closer. "I can't tell. It could be a shadow."

"Harm, if he's hurting her--"

"Mac, don't worry. I'm going to kill him either way."

"I wish you wouldn't say that. I want him dead just as much as you do, but I
don't want you going anywhere near him. Leave it to the police."

"The police? The police, Mac?! The same police who took her picture and told
us 'good luck?!' We haven't even heard from them in two days!" He took a few
breaths to calm down. "Mac, I'm sorry. It's just that they don't seem to
be much help right now. I know they're doing their best, but that's not good
enough. It's not getting us anywhere. They have no idea how dangerous Palmer
really is. Between us, Chloe, AJ, Bud, and Webb, we've got some ideas, and
if we have to go after him ourselves, well, that's nothing new."

That afternoon, Sergei called Harm and Mac from Chloe's door in New York.
"Harm, give me the taxi numbers and I will go to the company in person and
get the information we need."

"Sergei, you're a lifesaver. It's the New York Cab Company, and it was a
standard yellow taxi." He gave him the numbers. "The driver picked up Roz
and Palmer outside Carnegie Hall at around nine yesterday morning."

On the other end, Sergei frantically jotted down the details.

"How's Chloe?" Harm asked.

"Very upset. It's a good thing I came here."

"Well, you just remember, it's a college dorm. Keep your eyes and hands
where they belong."

Sergei smiled. "I only have eyes for one girl, brother."

"It never hurts to be reminded."

"Harm, we are wasting time. I need to find out where the cab company is and
get over there."

"You're right. Thanks again, and Sergei, remind Chloe how much her tape is
helping. If she feels hopeless, that might make her feel better."

"I will. And I'll call you when I'm done at the taxi place."

When she saw Sergei hang up, Chloe said, "I'm going with you."

"You are going to class." Sergei flipped through the enormous Manhattan
phone book and found the cab company's address.

"Sergei, don't argue with me. I'm the one who saw them in person, and
besides, if you think I'd be able to concentrate in class with this going
on, think again."

"Chloe, I have the information I need. You should go to class. It will take
your mind off this."

"I don't want to take my mind off it! I want to do something!"

"You already have. More than you know. Harm can't stop thanking you for the
video. You've done enough."

"It'll never be enough until we find Roz. Now I'm coming with you, so let's
go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they headed to the subway station, Sergei thought about the enormous
influence his feisty Marine sister-in-law had on his girlfriend, whether Mac
realized it or not.

A little while later, they arrived at the cab company's headquarters. They
walked quickly to the front desk and Sergei passed the receptionist the
sheet of paper with the numbers on it.

"Excuse me, ma'am, can you tell us who was driving this cab yesterday
morning?"

"Did you leave something in the cab, sir? Lost and found's on the third
floor."

"No, we just need to talk to the driver. We need some information."

"Uh...just a minute please." The woman called for a supervisor to come down
and sort through this. Even after all these years, security was a very
serious matter in New York, and unusual requests were met with trepidation.

A large Hispanic man met with them a few minutes later. "I am Jose
Fernandez, manager of the taxi service. How can I help you?"

"Please," Sergei said, passing the paper to him, "we need to know who was
driving this cab yesterday morning."

"Was there a problem with your service? You can file a formal complaint, if
you'd like."

"No, it's not that. The driver picked up a passenger with a little girl. The
man was kidnapping her. We need to talk to the driver."

"Please!" Chloe insisted. "We need to know where he took them."

The manager looked at the numbers on the paper. "All right, I think this is
Youssef's car. You're in luck. I just saw him upstairs, taking a break. I'll
go get him."

"Thank you, Mr. Fernandez!" Chloe exclaimed.

A few minutes later, Mr. Fernandez returned with a Middle Eastern man. "You
have some questions for me?" the driver said, with a thick accent.

"Yes." Sergei passed him a photo of Harm in uniform, and a picture of Roz.
"Do you remember seeing this man yesterday, with the little girl?"

"Oh yes, the Navy man. Hard to forget him."

"Do you remember where you drove them to?"

"Yes, it was to JFK."

"The airport? Do you know where they were going?"

"I don't know. The man, he just tell me Terminal A. I leave them at the
curb."

"Please, this is really important," Chloe stressed.

"I'm sorry. That's all I know. We didn't talk. He was too busy with the
girl."

"Sir, that man was kidnapping her! I'm her uncle. Now, what do you mean,
'busy?'"

"Oh my, no! Well, that explains it. He was yelling at her to be quiet and he
said if she started to cry, she would 'get it' again."

Chloe's hand flew up to her mouth and she closed her eyes. Sergei's stomach
lurched. He struggled not to let the horror overwhelm him. He didn't allow
himself to think about what 'it' might have been.

The driver continued. "I thought she was just misbehaving. I should have
said something."

"No, it's all right," Sergei told him. "There was no way you could know.
But you are sure it was Kennedy Airport, Terminal A?"

"Yes, that I know for certain."

"Thank you so much. We're one step closer now." They headed out and the
cabbie yelled to them, "I hope you find her!"

Once outside, Sergei grabbed Chloe's hand and hurried her back to the
subway. "Come on, we've got airlines to call."

"Sergei, have you ever been to JFK? Terminal A's got to have at least ten
airlines."

"Then all the more reason to hurry!"

"And do you know how many thousands of people pass through that airport
every day?"

"Probably not that many in Navy uniforms. Now let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that afternoon, Harm and Mac were doing more of something they were
getting very good at - waiting. Sergei had called them earlier to tell them
what the cab driver had said. They already begun calling some of the
airlines, but tracking down two people who passed through an international
airport was worse than a needle in a haystack. The airlines had no record of
any passengers with the name Harmon Rabb or Clark Palmer. He had used a
false name, and it would be next to impossible to guess what it was.

A little while later, the phone rang in Harm and Mac's house. Thinking
maybe it was Sergei again, and he had forgotten to call his cell phone, Harm
picked it up quickly.

"Yes?!"

"Harm, buddy! How's it goin'?"

"You son of a bitch!"

Knowing at once who it was, Mac ran upstairs to listen on the phone in the
bedroom.

"Where are your manners, Harm? Is that any way to talk to an old friend?"

"Where's my daughter?!"

"How should I know? She missing or somethin'?"

"Palmer!!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Where is she?!"

"Calm down. She's fine."

"I don't believe you. I want to talk to her - NOW."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm afraid she's a bit...tied up at the moment."

"Damn you!!"

"Harm, come on now. Poor, agitated Harmon. I was trying to be discreet.
She's in the bathroom."

"I want proof that she's okay."

"What? You don't trust me? I'm insulted, Harm. And just for that, now you'll
have to take my word for it."

Harm shouted a deep, unintelligible, inhuman roar.

"Pipe down, I've got a question for ya."

"No, we're not giving you any ransom money. No plane tickets out of the
country, no deals, no nothing!"

"Gee, that's a shame. But that wasn't my question."

"Well, get asking so I won't have to listen to you anymore."

"Well Harm, I've been wondering...how long do you suppose it would take a
five-year-old girl to starve to death?"

"You're an animal."

"Or what about bleeding? If I slit little Rosalyn's throat, how long would
I have to wait before I could throw her limp, lifeless body out with the
trash?"

"Palmer!! When I find you, if you've touched so much as one hair on her
head, so help me God I'll tear you limb from limb."

"Leave her alone!" Mac screamed on the other phone.

"Colonel Mackenzie," Palmer said cheerfully. "How nice to hear your voice."

"Touch her and I'll kill you."

"Tsk tsk, Sarah. I don't think you're exactly in a position to do any
bargaining. Seems to me I've got all the power here."

"You've got nothing, you scumbag!"

"Oh, my dear, sweet Sarah--"

"Mac, hang up," Harm ordered. As soon as he heard the click, he responded to
Palmer. "Don't you dare speak my wife's name. Not with your filthy mouth.
You don't have that right, and if I ever hear you say it again, I swear,
I'll rip your tongue out."

"Well, in that case, I better conserve my mouth while I've still got one. So
this conversation is over."

"Palmer!"

"Good bye, Harmon Rabb, Junior."

Harm heard Palmer disconnect, but he stood there for a while with the phone
in his hand. Hanging up would sever the only link they had to Roz. And
Palmer's goodbye had sounded so final. So horribly final. He finally put
the phone down when he heard Mac's sobs coming from upstairs.

Harm went up to their bedroom, where he saw Mac lying on the bed, her head
buried in a pillow. He sat next to her and gently rubbed her back while her
crying continued.

Eventually, she turned over and sat up. "Why aren't you crying?"

"Because it won't help anything. Sarah, sweetheart, believe me, I want to. I
want to cry and cry and dig myself a hole so deep I'll never come out again.
But none of that's going to bring our daughter home."

"Maybe nothing will. We don't even know for sure that she's still alive.
God, Harm, she could be dead."

"Mac, MAC!" He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Don't even think that!
Remember what AJ said? Palmer's too smart for that. This whole thing reeks
of him. It's his style all the way. This is how he operates - he's driving
us crazy and he loves it. He gets off on it. He knows that taunting us and
threatening to hurt Roz is worse than anything else he could do to us, and
in reality, she's probably fine."

"I don't know, Harm."

"Well I do. Mac, when my F-14 went down at sea, did you ever, even for a
minute, think I was dead?"

She sniffled. "No," she whispered. "Not even for one second."

"Well there you go. We just need to keep that same kind of faith. Roz is
one hell of a kid. You're forgetting who her parents are."

"I know. It's just...the longer it takes, the more time Palmer has to..."
she shook her head, willing the thought away.

Harm put his arms around her. "Mac, listen to me. I know you're scared. I'm
scared too, I just have a different way of showing it. But we're going to
find her, and she'll be perfect, just like always. And Palmer's gonna get
what's coming to him, even if it means doing time in Leavenworth myself."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Talking like some kind of vigilante. Why do you feel like you have to take
him on yourself?"

"Because I'm the one he's hurt the most."

"What about me?"

Harm tightened his hold on her. "Mac, you are my life, and I don't want you
anywhere near him. Marine or not, you are my wife, my whole world, and if
anything ever happened to you--"

"And what if something happens to *you*?"

"It won't. I'm gonna take him out, once and for all."

They quietly comforted each other for a while, and then the ring of Harm's
cell phone broke the silence. He recognized the number from his own office
at JAG headquarters.

"Talk to me, Bud."

"Good news, sir. Most of the phone numbers were no longer in service, and
the addresses were old. But we did trace one of the numbers to, get this,
Palmer's mother."

"You're kidding. I guess I never pictured that scumbag as having parents."

"Well, we got the address too. I didn't call her, I figured you'd want to do
that yourself."

"Yeah, I do." Harm hunted around for a pencil and paper. "All right, go
ahead."

"Okay, her name is Ruth Palmer. The number is 718-555-1223, and she lives at
14 Cass Place in Brooklyn."
Harm wrote quickly. His heart was racing as he felt the gap between him and
his daughter getting smaller. "Bud, you're amazing. Thank you!"

"Don't thank me until she's home, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harm and Mac wasted no time in calling Palmer's mother. There was no way to
know if she was involved in any of his evildoing. They had to take their
chances. They decided Mac would do the talking, but Harm would listen on
another phone. Mac was clinging to the hope that she could connect to this
woman, as one mother to another.

"Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Ruth Palmer, please?"

"This is Ruth." The woman sounded friendly.

"Mrs. Palmer, this is Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, and I'm calling because--"

"Oh no. What's that bastard son of mine done now?"

"Ma'am?"

"When someone with a military rank calls me out of the blue, it can only
mean that Clark's up to no good again."

Mac was a little surprised, but relieved, by the woman's candor. "Yes ma'am.
It's my daughter. He kidnapped her."

The woman gasped. "Oh! I'm so sorry! Will he stop at nothing!" She sounded
genuinely shocked and horrified. If she *was* covering for her son, she was
doing a great job.

"Ma'am, I understand you live in Brooklyn. We have confirmation that your
son was in Manhattan yesterday. Did he stop by to see you at all?"

"Me? Never. I haven't seen him in years and I prefer to keep it that way."

"So he didn't talk to you at all about his plans, or where he might go?"

"No, not a word. Clark and I had a falling out years ago, when I divorced
his father. I took him with me when I left, and he never forgave me.
But you know, when a man beats you senseless every week, you'd be a fool to
stay."

Mac was silent as she processed what the woman was revealing.

"After that, Clark got into drinking, drugs, petty crimes. I tried to keep
him on the straight and narrow, but I had to work two jobs to make ends
meet. When he started getting into heavy-duty crimes, I all but disowned
him. The Clark Palmer you know is not the little boy I tried to raise."

Christ, Mac thought. This woman could almost be describing her own family.
Almost. If only Palmer had joined the Marines...

"Anyway, you know what they say these days, how everybody wants to blame the
parents when a kid screws up, but sometimes a mother can do everything she
knows how, and they still turn out rotten. Some people are just bad seeds,
and Clark is worse than bad."

It seemed they had an ally of sorts in Palmer's mother, but Mac was a little
suspicious. "Mrs. Palmer, why are you telling us all this?"

"Because, Colonel. I read the news. I know every evil, reprehensible thing
he's done, and I want there to be no mistaking that I was ever involved in
any of it."

She sounded very much on the level. But even if she wasn't, what choice did
they have?

"Mrs. Palmer," Harm cut in, "this is Captain Harmon Rabb, the father of the
missing girl. Clark was at Kennedy Airport yesterday. Do you have any idea
where he might've been headed?"

"Captain, I'm sorry. Like I said, I haven't had any contact with him in
years."

"Ma'am, please. He's got our little girl. You must know something. Did he
have friends in other parts of the country? Favorite places?

Anywhere he might go to hide out?"

"Pittsburgh!"

"Ma'am?"

"Captain, it just occurred to me, when you said hide out. Clark's father was
a foreman at one of the steel mills out there before the industry fell
apart. Clark used to go there to get away."

"Do you remember the name of the company?"

"No. Y'know, there were so many of them, always merging and selling. But I
do know it's not there anymore. Well, the smokestacks might be, but the
company itself was gone years ago."

"Can you tell us where it was? An address, maybe?"

"Oh, it was so long ago. And I never went there. I wanted to stay as far
away from that man as I could. But it was south of the city, I know that.
Something with an H. Harper...Hometown...Homestead! That's it. It was in
Homestead."

"And that's south of Pittsburgh, ma'am?"

"Yes. Just outside the city. I wish I could tell you more. But it's been so
many years, and my memory's not what it used to be."

"Ma'am," Harm said, "you've done so much, you have no idea."

Mac gave the woman their phone number with instructions to call if she
remembered anything else. "Ma'am, we can't thank you enough."

"Just find your little girl. And my son. And I have no qualms in telling you
I hope you nail him."

"Oh, we will, ma'am. We will," Harm assured her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do we do now?" Mac asked after they hung up.

"Two things. First, we call the Admiral and see if he can get those
prisoners to say anything about Pittsburgh, or Homestead, or wherever."
While Webb was now home, AJ had remained at Leavenworth, in case the need
should arise again to question the inmates. "Second, I pack my bags and
Webb and I drive to Homestead. With all the security and waiting, it'll be
faster than flying."

"I'm sorry, I must've heard you wrong. Did you say you and Webb would drive
there?"

"Yes."

"And where was I in that plan?"

"You were here, safe in this house with our son."

"No way. I'm going with you."

"Absolutely out of the question. If you don't want to be alone, maybe Terri
can come stay with you. But no way are you coming with me."

"Harm, this isn't smart. You're gonna drive out there and then what?"

"Hell, I don't know, Mac. I'll knock on every door in Western Pennsylvania
if I have to. Someone had to have seen them, even if it was just when they
stopped for gas."

"Harm, I don't like this one bit."

Harm put his hands on Mac's cheeks. "Neither do I, Mac, but I like even less
the thought of Roz spending one more second with Clark Palmer."

"I'll pack your bag. You call the Admiral."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Half an hour later, AJ and Colonel Francis were reading ex-Colonel Hull the
riot act.

"What do you know about Pittsburgh?" AJ demanded.

"Good football team. Home of Heinz ketchup."

"You can do better than that."

"I don't know. Three Rivers? Good pierogies. Why the history lesson?"

"Shut up and wipe that smirk off your face!" AJ ordered. "What did Palmer
say about it?"

"Why would he ever say anything about that godforsaken coal dust town?"

"I don't know, Hull, but you do, don't you? Colonel Francis, I'm getting
angry. Hull wouldn't want to see me angry, would he?"

"No sir. Hull, this man's a former SeAL. He could snap your neck before you
even had time to scream, right Admiral?"

"Like a twig! You were the head of security here, Hull. What the hell
happened to you? How did you wind up on the other side of the bars?"

"It was the money."

"Keep talking."

"I saw all the money it takes to maintain this place, to give these scumbags
a cozy bed and hot meals. These are some of the most hardened criminals out
there. You think the average John Q. Taxpayer wants his money paying for
cable TV for these animals? Or new athletic facilities? I think not."

"So you took the money for yourself?"

"Damn right I did."

"But why help Palmer? He threatened to report you?"

"You got it. My wife, well, she got nice n' used to fine wine and first
class travel."

"So you started the riot," Francis followed.

"But Palmer turned you in anyway," AJ guessed.

Hull nodded. "Scumbag doesn't know the meaning of loyalty."

"No, he sure doesn't, does he. Just think of him out there on the outside. A
free man, laughing his ass off thinking of you in here."

"Damn him!" Hull yelled.

"You want to get him as badly as we do. Come on, Hull, where is he?" Hull
was silent. "I'm getting angry again!" AJ reached for the man's neck.

"The Steelers! He always used to make us watch the Steelers games in the rec
room. Said he had ties to Pittsburgh!"

"What else?!"

"That's all I know!"

AJ shook with rage. "WHAT ELSE?!"

"The steel mill! There was a steel mill where his old man used to work.
Threw himself off the roof when he lost his job, and I swear, that really is
all I know!"

"And just in the nick of time," AJ said. "One more minute and I would've
ripped your spine out."

The look on Hull's face showed he believed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harm was loading his car with the bag Mac packed for him as well as some of
Roz's favorite dolls, when his phone rang. It was AJ, but he was only able
to say what they had already learned - some old steel mill outside
Pittsburgh. The fact of Palmer's suicide was new, but Harm dismissed it. It
wouldn't help him find the right place. He went back into the house to get
his weapon and extra ammunition from the secure box on top of the tall
wardrobe in the bedroom.

"Harm," Mac said, "I wish you would let me go with you."

"Mac, Webb will be with me. And I have an almost five hour drive to
Pittsburgh, and only two thoughts to keep me going: One, that I'm going to
find Rosalyn, and two, that you are here, safe with my son. We both know I
have to do this."

"You don't even know where to go, exactly."

"No, but the people out there will be able to point me and Webb toward the
old mills in Homestead faster than we'd learn anything here. And this way,
we're already there."

"Harm, I'm scared."

Harm took Mac's hands and guided her to the edge of the bed, where he sat
down next to her. "Mac, I know. I know you are, but you need to stay
positive. Y'know, a few hours from now, I could be on my way home with our
little girl. Try not to worry."

Mac started to cry. "You might as well ask me not to breathe."

Harm pulled her close. He had to fight hard against his own emotions and
stay focused on his mission. "Baby, it'll be all right. You'll see."

Mac shook her head. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"I'll be fine."

"No heroics, Harm. Promise me you won't do anything stupid. Promise me,
because I know you never break your promises."

"Mac..."

"Say it!"

He would do whatever it took to get their daughter back, heroic, stupid, or
dangerous. But he couldn't challenge the crippling fear he saw in Mac's
eyes. "I promise you, Sarah. And I promise you something else, too. The next
time you see me, I'm going to be holding Rosalyn in my arms."

Mac sniffled. "I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Rabb."

"Good. Now I've got to go. But Webb's dropping Terri off to stay with you,
okay? You shouldn't be alone, because then *I'll* be the worried one."

Mac nodded. She walked him downstairs and watched as he bundled up against
the cold. They saw Webb and Terri's car pull up outside, and
Harm kissed Mac fiercely and they held each other one last time.

"I love you, Harm."

"I love you too."

With that, Harm and Webb were gone, and Mac ushered Terri into the house.
She explained the whole situation to her, and Terri merely did the same
thing she had been doing for the past several days - listening. She could
hear the uncertainty in Mac's voice.

"What if this backfires terribly?" Mac lamented. "What if I lose them both?"

"Mac, that's not going to happen. You want to know why?"

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because, I have big plans, and they can't happen without Rosalyn. Mac,
Clay and I haven't set a date yet, but we discussed it, and we want Roz to
be our flower girl. So you see, she has to come home."

Terri thought that might give Mac at least a small spark of happiness, but
it had the opposite effect, and soon Mac was crying again.
"Oh, Terri, I want that. Very much. But...she might not even be home for
Thanksgiving. You shouldn't make any plans for her yet."
Terri, just like the others who were so close to Harm and Mac, hadn't even
realized that the holiday was coming up. They were so preoccupied. And, at
the moment, it didn't seem there was much to be thankful for.

"Oh, Mac, darlin', don't say that. She'll be home in no time. Harm'll find
her."

"I don't know, Terri." Mac shook her head. "I just don't know."

"Mac, has he ever let you down before?"

He had, Mac thought. But never when it really mattered. Never when it was
all on the line. "No."

"Then why would he start now?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terri and Mac sat together for a little while, and then Victor started
crying. Terri volunteered to check on him and give Mac a break. When she got
upstairs, she saw that the baby needed a diaper change, which she took care
of and then spent several minutes rocking him back to sleep with a soothing
lullaby. By the time she went back downstairs, Mac had fallen asleep and
appeared to be resting peacefully, something Terri knew she hadn't done in
days.

Terri took a book from the bookshelf and read quietly while Mac continued to
get her desperately needed rest. After a little while, however, Mac began
stirring in her sleep. Her head was moving from side to side, and soon her
arms were thrashing about at the air in front of her.

"No! No!" she screamed.

She was obviously caught in a violent dream, so Terri shook her awake. "Mac?
Mac! Wake up!"

Mac's eyes opened and her breathing was ragged. She stared ahead, wide-eyed,
fighting for air.

"Mac, you all right?"

"We need to go. We have to get out of here!"

"What? Mac, what are you talking about?"

"I know where she is!"

"What?"

"I saw it. He's gonna kill Harm!"

"Mac, it was just a dream."

"No! It was real. I saw the whole thing! Two bullets in his...forget it,
let's go!" She was almost in tears.

"Where? What the heck is going on?"

"Homestead!"

"To follow Clay and Harm?"

"No - to protect them! We're wasting time! Come on!" Mac grabbed Terri's arm
and pulled her up.

"Do you even know how to get to Homestead, Mac?"

"I know how to get to the Pennsylvania Turnpike, then we get off at
Pittsburgh."

"And then what? Mac, this is crazy."

"Terri, *please*! I'll know it when I see it. I need you. I can't do this by
myself. I'll pack a bag for Victor and we'll leave him with Harriet. But
we've got to move, now!"

"Mac..."

"Terri! He's going to kill him! I have to save him!"

Terri was still wary, but Mac was hell-bent on going to Pennsylvania, and
she couldn't let her friend go alone. "All right, but I'll drive. Right now,
you're likely to get us into an accident before we even leave Virginia."

Mac grabbed Terri and hugged her tightly. "Oh, thank you, Terri! Thank you!
I'll go get Victor's stuff."

"Okay, I'll call Clay and Harm and let them know we'll be behind them soon."

Mac stopped cold halfway up the stairs. "No! They'll just tell us to stay
here, and I can't do that! Not when I know Palmer's gonna...and Harm...no,
they can't know." She raced up the stairs and returned a few minutes later
with Victor and a three-day supply of clothing and diapers for him. She ran
into the kitchen and threw several cans of formula and empty bottles into
the bag as well.

Mac and Terri grabbed their coats, and while Terri loaded the car and
strapped Victor into his carseat, Mac went back inside for Roz's mittens,
hat, and scarf. She didn't want her little girl to be cold for one second
longer than she had to be.

Thanks to the late hour and very light traffic, they got to Bud and
Harriet's in record time. Mac left Victor with them, along with instructions
to call Chloe and Sergei in New York, and Trish and Frank in California. Mac
asked them to say only that there was a new lead, but not to reveal the
details. She didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, in case, God forbid, she
got there too late.

Mac gave her son a final kiss before handing him to Harriet. "We'll keep him
safe and sound and waiting for a nice hug from his big sister," Harriet
assured her.

"Bring her home, ma'am," Bud urged.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do, Bud."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALL-NIGHT DINER
NEW STANTON, PENNSYLVANIA
2330 EST

"Twenty three. Twenty four. Twenty five."

"Charlie, you countin' the sugars again?" the waitress behind the counter
asked. She was an older woman, with graying curly hair and a pencil behind
her ear.

"Every night, Mattie. He counts them sugars, and anything else he can get
his hands on. Packets a' jam, napkins," the plump man sitting at the counter
announced. He wore an Army fatigue jacket and drank the last drop from his
coffee cup.

"Always with the numbers, huh? What is it with him and numbers?"

"I don't know, Matts. Can't see fit to shave his face, but he's got time to
sit there and memorize numbers." He put his cup down and the friendly
waitress refilled it immediately. The graveyard shift wasn't as bad as some
might think, she considered. A few regulars every night - Charlie and his
counting, Carl in his cammie jacket, a few other guys from the surrounding
are who came out for the good coffee and good company. And a bunch of hardy
truckers passing through who'd stop in for a rest and the stick-to-your-ribs
all-night dinner specials. Decent folks, every one.

"Twenty six. Twenty Seven. Twenty eight."

"I swear, Mattie," Carl said, "he's gonna blow up a post office someday."

"You watch your mouth, Carl. I had the last slice of peach pie saved for
you, but you better stop teasin' him."

"Aw, Matts, he can't hear me. He ain't right in the head."

"He can hear you. He's not dumb, he just...likes countin' things is all. No
pie for you."

"Come on doll, I'm your best customer and you know it," he smiled.

Mattie blushed. "I'm a damn fool, but yeah, I do know it. B'sides, you know
I'd have another pie waiting for you tomorrow night."
Mattie loved her customers. Her easygoing attitude and genuine smile kept
people coming back, and she liked knowing they'd protect her if she ever
needed it. This was the only restaurant for miles, and once in a while, some
real shady characters would stop in on their way down the turnpike.

That was the thought in her mind as she looked toward the door and caught
sight of a very unusual pair entering. They didn't get many well-dressed
military officers through here, never mind one accompanied by a young child.
Poor little girl looks exhausted, Mattie observed. It's got to be way past
her bedtime. I wonder where they're headed at this hour.

The handsome man in the Navy uniform grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her
toward the counter.

"Excuse me ma'am, where's your restroom?" the man with the stunning green
eyes asked. Though she was old enough to be his mother, she couldn't help
blushing when he looked at her. Her regular customers were solid,
salt-of-the-earth guys, but too many helpings of the diner's meat loaf and
mashed potatoes had taken their toll. The well-proportioned man before her
was a sight for sore eyes.

"Head back, make a left," she told him, and pointed the way.

He smiled at her. "Thank you. And ma'am, would you mind watching this little
one for me? She has a bad habit of wandering away."

"Sure thing. I'll keep an eye on her."

The man went back to the men's room, leaving the girl by the counter with
the waitress. Mattie had a hard time believing this sweet little thing would
wander off. At the moment, she looked absolutely frozen in place. Frozen
with...fear?

Mattie bent down to meet the girl's eyes. "You all right, sugar?" she asked
softly.

The terrified girl didn't say a word. But being a mother herself, Mattie
could see a million thoughts running through the child's head. "What's your
name, sweetie?" Still no answer. Mattie smiled. "That's all right. Your
daddy probably told you not to talk to strangers, and that's good advice.
Best you listen to it, I suppose."

She took the girl's hand and led her behind the counter. "What's say we get
you some hot cocoa? With whipped cream." The girl seemed to ignore her, but
her hold tightened on Mattie's hand. Such a tight grip for such a small
hand. Warning bells went off in the woman's head, but she wasn't sure why.

She went about fixing the cocoa when she noticed the girl staring at the
phone. She looked at it for several seconds, and then looked back and forth
between it and the general direction her father had gone.

Or, whom Mattie assumed was her father.

"You wanna use the phone, darlin'?" she asked suspiciously.

The girl managed an almost imperceptible nod, the first response Mattie had
gotten out of her. "Okay." She handed the girl the receiver and watched as
she slowly found the right buttons.

The phone rang and rang and the child couldn't understand why no one
answered. Finally, she heard her father's voice, but it was only a message.
"Daddy?" she whispered. "Mommy?"

That was all she could get out before the Navy man's hand pulled the phone
away from her and hung it up. "I'm sorry, ma'am. She's a real handful. Just
learned to dial the phone, and I'm afraid she tries to call whoever she can.
For your sake, I hope she didn't accidentally get Japan, or Zimbabwe."

"No, she was a perfect angel. She was fine. She's just fine." She squeezed
the girl's hand.

"Well, thanks for keeping an eye on her, ma'am. We'll be on our way now. We
have a long drive ahead of us." The man grabbed the girl's other hand and
tried to pull her away.

"No! I mean, surely you want some coffee before you head out? I just put up
a fresh pot."

"No, we best be going."

"Not even a glass of water? Or some dessert? I make the best pies this side
of Harrisburg."

"Really ma'am, we're in a bit of a rush."

"What exactly's goin' on here?" Mattie ventured, still holding the girl's
hand firmly.

Why is this woman so hell-bent on stalling me, the man wondered. I haven't
got time for this. "I'm sorry. We need to leave."

"Who are you?"

Suddenly, the man pulled out a gun. "Nobody. And you never saw us, you got
that?"

Carl stood up from his place at the counter and faced the other man. "What
are you tryin' to pull?"

The man put the gun to the child's head. "I'll be pulling the trigger if you
don't get out of my way!"

Carl could tell he was dead serious, and stepped aside for the sake of the
little girl. He realized the man could fire the gun before he'd have a
chance to knock it out of his hand.

Dragging the shaking girl with him, the man reached the door. "Nobody be a
hero here. If I see cops behind me on the road, this girl's dead, you got
me? You got me?!" he demanded again. The stunned restaurant patrons nodded,
and the man put the girl in his car and they disappeared back down the
highway.

"Dammit!" Mattie yelled. "I knew something wasn't right the minute they
walked in here. That girl was terrified. What the hell kind of a child
ignores hot cocoa? I'm callin' the police."

"Mattie, wait!" Carl yelled. "Didn't you hear what he said? He'll kill her
if he hears sirens."

"Well, we've got to do something! It's my fault they got away. My kids may
all be grown, but I'm still a mom, and I know when somethin' ain't right
with a child. Maybe we can call the Navy..."

Carl shook his head. "He's not in the Navy."

"I know these are bifocals," she said, pointing to her glasses, "but I'm not
blind. Was that or was that not a Navy uniform?"

"Come on, Mattie, any fool can get one of those at a costume shop. I was
Army infantry, but I met my share of squids. And no self-respecting Navy
pilot ever goes anywhere without first spit-shining his wings. His looked
more like coal than gold."

"Then what do we do?" Mattie asked.

"I don't know yet."

"Seven. Eight. Nine." Charlie had moved on to counting the jelly packets.

"Aw, put a sock in it, Charlie!" Mattie was no longer in the mood for his
quirks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO HOURS LATER

"How much farther to Pittsburgh?" Harm asked. He and Webb had been driving
for what seemed like an eternity.

"I'm not sure. Maybe another hour."

"Dammit! We'll never get there."

"Look Harm, I know you're used to going mach a million, but right now, doing
ninety's about all I'm willing to risk. You're just lucky there's no
traffic."

"Webb, Clark Palmer's got my daughter. God only knows what he's done to her
the past few days. So pardon me for *not* feeling lucky."
Harm sighed and looked out the window as Webb drove and the miles went by.
The road wasn't lit, and with almost no other cars around, the surroundings
were pitch black. Everything looked the same, one mile indistinguishable
from the next. They might as well still be in Virginia, Harm lamented.
"Where the hell are we, anyway?"

"Pennsylvania. The next exit is New Stanton. The sign says there's a gas
station and a diner, both of which we need desperately."

"The gas I understand, but if you think we're stopping so you can get
chicken-fried-steak and rice pudding, think again."

"Not food. Bathroom. And we *are* stopping for that, so if you think I'm
gonna take a leak in my own car, *you* can think again."

Harm sighed. "Clay, I'm sorry. My mind's just...there are so many
things...my head's not on straight right now. Every time I close my eyes,
all I see is that sick son of a bitch, with...with his hands on her."

Webb took his eyes off the road long enough to get a good look at Harm. He
looked terrible, Webb thought. Beard stubble, sleep-deprived and bloodshot
eyes. "I know, Harm. It'll be all right. We'll get to her soon and this'll
be over. And whatever happens after, we'll get through it. All of us. You
and Mac, Terri and me, the Roberts'. You're not alone in this, Harm.
Together, we'll all be all right."

Harm shook his head. "You getting soft in your old age?"

Webb chuckled. "Not soft - smart. Y'know, a long time ago, the Admiral said
something to me, and it's stayed with me all these years. It was when you
and Mac were in Russia, searching for your father. Your MiG went down and
they were feeding us some bull about you both being dead. I was about to
believe it, and AJ said, 'Webb, Rabb and Mackenzie are the closest things
you've got to friends.' And he insisted we stop at nothing to find you.
Anyway, my point is, he was right. You and Mac both gave me more than I
deserved from you. I always went to you for my operations because you two
were the best. You saved my ass so many times, I just want to do anything
and everything I can to repay you. And I'd like to think that by now, you
and Mac aren't 'close things' to friends. We're friends for real."

"We are, Clay. We are. And...this means a lot to me, you coming along. I
don't think I could've done it alone. I would've lost my mind long before
even getting this far. And there was no way in hell I was letting Mac come
with me."

"Oh, definitely not," Webb agreed. "I'd sooner take one of Palmer' s bullets
to my own chest than have those kids of yours grow up without a mother.
Besides, what are friends for? In this life, every man's got friends and
enemies. And if you can figure out which is which, you're way ahead of the
game."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few minutes later, the turnpike exit finally appeared and Webb stopped to
pay the toll. They drove down the dark, quiet road and arrived at the gas
station. Webb filled the tank and then they followed the signs a few blocks
down to the diner.

Harm took a seat at a booth in the corner while Webb headed to the men's
room. The waitress was so deep in conversation with a man at the counter
that she didn't even notice them come in. The man in the adjacent booth had
emptied the napkin dispenser and was counting the napkins.

"Seventy six. Seventy seven. Seventy eight."

While he waited for Webb, Harm called Mac at home to check in. It was the
middle of the night, but if he knew Mac, she wasn't sleeping. There was no
answer, which he thought very strange. Maybe she did fall asleep? Or maybe
she and Terri went to Terri and Webb's house. He tried her cell phone. No
answer there, either. Something was very wrong. He realized that when he
called home, the answering machine picked up quickly, as if there were other
messages waiting. So he redialed his home number and checked the messages
remotely.
"Daddy? Mommy?" he heard. The voice was a timid whisper, but there was no
mistaking whose it was.

On his way back to where Harm sat, Webb ordered two coffees as he passed the
counter, and he pointed out to the waitress where he'd be sitting. Webb
noticed immediately Harm's ashen face and stiff mouth.

"Listen to this." Harm replayed the message and passed his phone to Webb.

Webb's eyes went wide. "How old is this?"

"Just a few hours. Time stamp on the machine says 23:45."

"Any way to trace where it came from?"

"Not that I know of."

"Did you try Mac?"

"Yeah. No answer at home or on her cell. And I don't like it one bit."

"Let me see if Terri knows anything." Webb called their home and Terri's
cell phone, and when there was no answer from either, he felt the same wave
of dread that washed over Harm.

"You ready?" Harm asked. "Let's get back on the road."

"Not yet. I ordered us some coffee."

"Clay..."

"Harm, neither one of us is going to be able to stop Palmer if we're both
asleep. We'll gulp down a cup or two and then get out of here."

The waitress approached with the coffee. She set Webb's down on the table,
and was about to give Harm his when he looked up and she saw his face. He
looked tired and haggard, and he'd gotten rid of the uniform, but it was
him. Definitely.

The waitress dropped the coffee cup, sending the hot liquid and shards of
ceramic in all directions.

"You again!"

Webb and Harm looked at her. They'd never seen anyone more terror-stricken.
The woman looked like she wanted to run as far and as fast as she could, but
she was paralyzed with fear.

"Where is she?!" she screamed. "Where's that little girl?!"

"Huh?" Harm said.

"Ma'am," Webb said, "what's going on here?"

"You tell me! Where is she? Out in the car, freezing?! You bring that girl
back in here and then get the hell out of here before I call the police!"
She was too afraid for the girl's safety to call before, but now it seemed
she was getting a second chance. She certainly hadn't thought she'd see him
again.

It hit Harm and Webb at the very same moment.

"Harm--"

"I know." Harm stood up and grabbed the waitress firmly by the arms. "Ma'am,
please--"

"Don't touch me!" she screamed.

In instant, the man in Army fatigues from the counter was at her side.

"Do we have a problem here?" he threatened, unintimidated by Harm.

"Yes! I need to talk to her!"

"You've done enough talking for one night." With that, the man aimed a punch
at Harm's jaw, but Harm dodged out of the way and Webb grabbed the man and
held him back.

"Ma'am, you think I was in here earlier tonight?"

"I don't think so. I know so. Saw you with my own two eyes."

"You said there was a little girl with me?!"

"What the hell is this? Some kinda joke?"

"Please ma'am! Was she about this high, with long brown hair?"

"You ought to know. Now what the hell did you do with her? Carl, call the
cops!"

"No! Ma'am, I'm her father! That man kidnapped her! Navy uniform, right?!"

She looked back and forth between Harm and Carl.

"That was him," Carl said. "I knew he wasn't Navy. Wings were tarnished."

"I...I don't understand," the waitress said.

"It's complicated," Webb said. "Just an elaborate disguise. That's not what
he really looks like."

"Ma'am," Harm said, "the girl - my daughter, was she all right? How
did she look?"

"She was as scared as I've ever seen anyone. Y'know, I knew somethin' wasn't
right. The guy came in to use the bathroom, and she tried to use the phone
while he was in there."

"So it was from here! I just got her message..."

"Well, she was shaking like a leaf, but she didn't look hurt, near as I
could tell."

"Thank you God," Harm whispered.

Carl spoke up. "We were gonna call the police, but..."

"But what?" Harm demanded.

"He...threatened to kill her if we did."

"Damn you, Palmer!!" Harm clenched his hands into tight fists, imagining
them around Palmer's neck.

"I knew we should've called," the waitress said. "And now he's gotten away."

"Do you know which way he went?" Webb asked.

"No. Just back to the highway. East or west, I don't know."

"West," Harm said. "I'm right about this Homestead thing. I can feel it."

"Homestead?" Carl asked. "Why would he go out there?"

"Long story. Do you know how much further it is?"

"About an hour, hour and a half. Course, this time of night, probably much
less."

"Anyone see what he was driving?" Webb asked.

They shook their heads. "They took off so fast," the waitress said. "I think
it was a dark colored car, but I could be wrong. It's pitch black out
there."

The man counting napkins in the next booth was murmuring something
unintelligible. But something about it caught Harm's attention and he
listened closely.

"DJE921. DJE921. DJE921."

"Webb, listen! That sound like a license plate to you?"

"Charlie!" the waitress said to the man. "Are they right? Is that the
license plate number?"

He continued stacking the napkins, chanting "DJE921. DJE921."

"It is!" Harm declared. "Any clue how we get to Homestead? There's an old
steel mill out there--"

"I know the place," Carl said. "Some buddies of mine used to work there." He
gave them directions as detailed as he could remember.

"Let me get you a map," the waitress said. She went into a back room and
returned quickly with a detailed map of Western Pennsylvania.

"This'll help you."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Harm exclaimed. "What are your names?"

"I'm Mattie, and this here's Carl. And the numbers expert, that's Charlie."

"Well, Charlie, Carl, Mattie, God bless you." Harm patted Charlie's
shoulder, shook Carl's hand, and planted a big kiss on Mattie's cheek.

Mattie blushed a bright pink. "Coffee's on us, uh--"

"Harm. Captain Harmon Rabb, and this is Clayton Webb."

"Well, Harm, you and Clayton go find that precious little angel. And stop in
on your way back home. I owe her a hot cocoa."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terri and Mac were making record time. In just a few short hours, they had
made their way north and west and were already through a good portion of
Pennsylvania. Still, it wasn't fast enough for Mac. Time would move
impossibly slowly until she had Rosalyn safe in her arms.
She sighed deeply as she looked out the window at the road passing beneath
them. The turnpike wasn't lit, and with no signs of civilization around, the
night appeared as an endless black abyss. An interminable void so dark and
empty Mac wondered if the sun would ever rise again.

Somewhere out there were Harm, Webb, Roz, and Palmer. "Maybe I should call
Harm," Mac said. "I don't like that I haven't heard from him at all."

"No news is good news, right?" Terri said, her eyes focused ahead on the
road.

"Not in this case. Maybe there's no news because he doesn't know how to tell
me that our daughter's...that she's..." Mac shook her head, unwilling to
finish that thought.

"Mac! Give it a rest, okay?! We did not come this far to give up now. It's
only a little further to Pittsburgh. Clay and Harm shouldn't be too far
ahead of us. We'll get there in time."

"I know," Mac said softly. "Sometimes I believe it, and then five minutes
later I'm thinking the worst."

"Well, don't. What can I do to keep your mind off it? We can't play any
license plate games because there aren't any cars around. What can we talk
about?"

"Tell me about your wedding."

"Well, you know Clay and I haven't set a date yet, but I'm thinking about
next fall. Maybe we can have the ceremony in a pumpkin patch and go for
hayrides afterward, just to piss off his mother," she joked. Terri continued
telling Mac about color schemes, bridesmaid dresses, and other things she's
begun thinking about. At first, Mac listened intently, but soon her mind
went back to worst-case scenarios. Maybe Harm hadn't called because he
couldn't. Maybe by now he and Roz were both...and Clay, too."

No. Suck it up, Mackenzie! Harm would never let you down. He promised. You
need to stop thinking like a scared wife and mother and start acting like a
Marine. She squared her shoulders and sat up rigidly.

"...so maybe lillies. Or orchids What do you think?" There was no reply.
"Mac?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't paying much attention."

"Mac..."

"No, it's all right. I'm okay now." She showed Terri the display on her cell
phone. There was no service in the area, wherever they were. "He probably
tried, there's just no reception out here. There'll probably be a million
messages from him when we get closer to the city."
Terri nodded, and they drove on a little further until they came upon an
exit ramp. Mac saw it and jumped up. "Get off!" she shouted.

"What?!"

"Get off! Here, now!" Mac grabbed the steering wheel and turned it sharply
to the right before they drove beyond the exit.

Terri got her bearings just in time to read the sign. "New Stanton?"

"Yes!"

"What? Mac, why are we getting off here?"

"I don't know. I just know we need to."

"Mac, you're not making any sense."

"I'm sorry. I can't explain it. I just know this is where we need to be."

They got to the end of the ramp and paid the toll. "What now, left or
right?" Terri asked.

"Right," Mac answered without hesitation.

"How can you be sure? We've never even been here before."

"I'm sure. Now go!"

Terri continued down the dark, empty road. "What are we looking for?"

"I don't know. But I'll know it when I see it."

"Mac..."

"Terri, please! You yourself said we didn't come this far to give up. Now
I'm sorry I can't tell you where I get this from. If I knew how to control
it, we would've had Roz back the same day she went missing. Or maybe she
wouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place."

"I'm sorry, Mac. I'm with you all the way in this, but it's still a little
hard to believe."

"I know. But I've never been wrong. Not with Chloe, not with Harm, and not
now." They drove on for a few more blocks when Mac saw a small roadside
diner. "Stop!"

Terri screamed and slammed on the breaks. "Did I hit a deer?!"

"No - not here, the diner!! Pull up over there!"

Terri's heart was pounding and her breathing was short and uneven. "Jesus,
Mac! Never do that to a driver!" Terri drove into the parking lot and barely
finished parking the car when Mac opened her door and ran into the diner.

The waitress at the counter looked up immediately. This night kept getting
stranger and stranger. It was becoming a free action movie for all the
truckers eating their chicken pot pies and the regulars with their coffees
and newspapers.

"Can I help you?"

"Have you seen a little girl--"

"And the Navy man?"

"Yes!"

"Are you with...Carl, what was his name again?"

"Rabb. Harmon Rabb."

"YES!!"

"Oh, you poor dear," the waitress said. "You must be the child's mother."

Mac grabbed the woman's shoulders and shook her frantically. "Was she all
right?! Which way did they go?!"

"She was scared, very scared. Your husband thought she and that creepy guy
were headed for Homestead."

"So they were here? All of them?"

"Not at the same time. First, your daughter came in with the criminal, and
Lord help me, I knew something wasn't right. The way he dragged her around,
the fear in her eyes--"

"Ma'am, please!" Mac shouted desperately.

"Ma'am," Terri said. She was anxious, but much calmer than Mac. "You saw
Harm, too? Was my fiancee with him? Clayton Webb?"

"Clayton, yes, he was here. Harmon and Clayton came in a while after the
other two left. That Harmon, he looked just like...well, I'm afraid I had a
moment of deja vu and wasn't very nice to him at first."

"We know, ma'am, we know," Terri said.

"We gave your guys directions to the old steel mill in Homestead. Is that
where you're headed?"

"Definitely," Mac answered.

Carl and Mattie mapped out the same route for Mac and Terri.

"They were here, and I let them slip away. I'm so sorry, Mrs. Rabb."

"Mac, call me Mac."

"Mac, then. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know something was wrong. A
mother just *knows* these things, y'know?"

"I sure do," Mac answered.

"I could see it all over her face, and I let him take her out of here." Her
voice started to break. "I didn't know what to do. I'm so, so sorry."

"No. Not at all, um--"

"Mattie."

"Mattie. Please, you did just the opposite. You may have saved my little
girl's life." Mac's own voice barely held up as her tears threatened to
fall. Mac tried her cell phone again, and luckily, there was now a strong
signal. "There's no point in hiding it now," she told Terri. "We might as
well let them know we're on our way."

In Webb's car, Harm jumped at the sound of his phone ringing. It was the
middle of the night. "Mac! What are you doing up?"

"Up? Up?! Harm, Terri and I are in New Stanton."

"What!!" Harm screamed so loud Webb practically ran them off the road. "Mac
are you insane? I told you to stay home!"

"I couldn't. Harm, I had a vision that you...never mind. Listen, Terri and I
are at that diner you and Webb stopped at. We just talked to Mattie and got
directions to the steel mill. We'll be there in a little while."

"Negative, Marine! Stay where you are!"

"No way, Harm. We've come this far. We're not turning back now!"

"I don't want you to turn back! I want you to stay in that diner like you
were *supposed* to stay home!" Harm was fuming. Webb asked to speak to
Terri, and Harm handed him the phone.

"Clay?"

"Dammit Terri! What's the matter with you?!"

"Don't yell at me, I'm just the chauffeur."

"You weren't supposed to let her out of the house! You realize Harm's gonna
kill me for this, right?"

"Clay--" Terri could hear him simmering on the other end. "Clayton! A
nuclear explosion could not have stopped this woman. It's over and done
with. We're already here, and we'll be with you soon."

"Teresa!! You and Mac need to find an all-night drugstore and get some
Q-tips because something is obviously clogging your ears! Did you not hear
me and Harm?! For God's sake, stay where you are!" Harm was shaking Webb's
arm, wanting to talk to Terri. He passed him the phone.

"Terri, where's my son?!"

"Harm, please, take a breath. He's fine. He's with Bud and Harriet."

"Terri, if you value your fiancee's life at all, don't let Mac move an inch.
Tie her up! Handcuff her to the milkshake machine if you have to, but if I
see the two of you at that steel mill, Clark Palmer won't be the only man I
kill tonight!"

Terri's mouth was agape and her eyes went wide. Mac took the phone from her.
"Harm, what did you say to Terri? She's gone catatonic on me."

Harm spoke as calmly as he could manage with his blood practically boiling.
"Mac, honey, sweetheart, I love you. I love you more than life itself and
that is why I need you to stay where you are. Have some coffee. Have every
sinful dessert on the menu since I'm not there to tease you about it."
Suddenly his voice turned into a stony yell. "But for God's sake, nail that
f*cking beautiful ass of yours to a chair and don't move!"

Mac took a deep breath. "All right, Harm. Terri and I will wait right here
for you."

"Y-you will?"

"Yes! Now stop wasting time and go get our daughter!"

"YES MA'AM!" he screamed. "I LOVE YOU, MAC!" He hung up before Mac could
reply.

Terri's face wrinkled in confusion. "We're not really staying here, are we?"

"HELL NO! MOVE OUT!" She grabbed Terri by the wrist and pulled her toward
the door. "Mattie, thank you!" she yelled as the door closed behind them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Former site of Homestead Steel Works)

Palmer hadn't been here in years, not since his father's suicide. But he'd
know his way through the complex of buildings blindfolded, not to mention
the particular building where his plan would reach its conclusion was hardly
more than an empty shell. Years of neglect and decay had dragged the
structure into disrepair. Like Homestead itself at one time. Like his
father. A burned out shell of a man who'd outlived his usefulness.

He dragged the little girl roughly up the stairs to the roof. At least she
was quiet. Hour upon hours of crying and shrieking could drive a man crazy,
but she had finally exhausted herself. She's probably as sick of listening
to it as I am, Palmer decided. Damn, for a Rabb, she didn't show much
bravery, did she? Well, that was all right, he thought. Even her daddy's sac
of steel won't make a difference tonight. She'd been a pain in the ass since
the beginning, but it would be over soon. For both of them.

"See this, Rosalyn?" Palmer said, sweeping his arms through the air above
him. "This big sky? Your daddy loves it, y'know. Flying around, the open
air. But you know what else? He crashes sometimes. That's right. Sometimes
daddy's airplane doesn't quite make it safely to the ground. He's fallen out
of the sky more times than any man deserves, and you know what he gets for
it? A medal. A goddamn medal! Kisses on the cheek from a pretty woman, his
name in the Navy Times. Another bar on his shoulders. Tell me, Roz, do you
think that's right? Do you think that's fair? A man crashes more than one
multi-million dollar plane and gets nothing more than a pat on the back and
a promotion?!"

Roz was silent, biting her lip to keep from crying. He might hit her again
if he heard her.

"Tell me!" He shook her violently. Still she said nothing, only a peep of
fright escaped from her mouth. Palmer laughed. "That's okay. I'll answer for
you. No, it's not fair. So we've got to set things right, Roz. You and me."

Fortunately, Palmer didn't hear Webb's car pull up down below, and his own
yelling had covered the sounds of Harm and Webb's footsteps as they raced up
to the roof. They got there in time to hear part of Palmer's tirade.

"You'll love it. We're gonna go flying, just like your daddy. And we're
gonna have a crash landing, too." Palmer pulled her with him toward the edge
of the roof.

"Freeze Palmer!" Harm yelled as he drew his pistol.

Instantly, Palmer brandished his own weapon and pressed it against Roz's
head before she could wriggle out of his grasp.

"Daddy!"

"Baby, don't move!!" Harm screamed to Roz. She squeezed her eyes shut
tightly and Harm could see her trembling in Palmer's hold.

"Drop it!" Palmer yelled.

Harm still had his gun pointed at him.

"Drop it!!" he repeated, shaking the gun at Roz's side.

Harm bent down slowly and placed his weapon carefully on the concrete
covered roof. He stood up with both hands in plain sight. He tried to watch
Palmer's every move, but he didn't want to take his eyes off his tiny
daughter, paralyzed with a fright no child should ever know. Even in the
darkness, there was no mistaking the bruises on her face.

"Why, Palmer?" was all he could manage.

"Because, Harm. Someone has to even the score."

"What score? Why are you doing this?"

"You and I are very similar creatures, Harmon Rabb, Junior. Very similar."

"Palmer, the only thing similar about us is our faces, and that'll stop as
soon as I pull that mask off your face. And I've gotta rip those wings off
your chest before I lose my lunch."

"Oh, you're gonna lose a lot more than that tonight."

"Dammit, Palmer!"

"As I was saying, you and I are one and the same."

"Don't make me sick."

"Roz, you wanna tell your daddy to shut up?!"

Harm looked between Palmer's eyes and those of his daughter. Such a
different purpose in them. As different as night and day. Darkness and
light.

"Harm, you wanna know why? I'll tell you why. Because it's never too late to
set things right."

"Set what right?"

"The lives of the men before us. How'd your father die, Harm? Protecting
some Russian farmwoman in the middle of nowhere? That's a damn shameful
death for a hero pilot, dontcha think?"

"My father died with honor!"

"Yeah. Yeah, he did, and what did he get for his troubles? For all those
years of torture, of toiling in some frozen gulag? You know what he got? His
name on a wall and a footnote in a dusty history book! But *my* father
didn't even get that. Oh, no. He worked in this very building, making metals
for those planes. And those damn ships. All those arrogant flyers with their
gold wings and bright smiles never would've gotten off the ground if it
hadn't been for the blood and sweat of working class grunts like John
Palmer. And what did he get? Did he get a memorial? No! John Palmer got a
pink slip and his brains splattered on the ground outside this building!!"

Harm watched while Palmer kept the gun against Roz's head the entire time.
He was going to lose it if this went on much longer. As it was, that image
was already burned onto his consciousness. He'd never be able to close his
eyes without seeing it.

Even in the cold night air, Harm was soaked in sweat. He was desperate and
didn't care if Palmer knew it. "What do you want, Palmer? You want money?
You know I don't have any to give you. You want a new start? A new life
somewhere? Fiji? Australia? I swear, I'll steal an F-14 and take you
anywhere you want to go if you'll just let her go."

Palmer chuckled evilly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you. For the smartass
lawyer you're supposed to be, you're dumber than dirt if you think I'd let
you off that easy."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to beg. I want you to grovel and ask me to spare her. I want
God's gift to the US Navy on his knees, begging me not to kill his
daughter."

"You're disgusting."

"I don't hear you groveling, Harm!"

"Shut up!"

"You'll be sorry. But there'll be plenty of time for that after she hits the
ground." Still with his gun against Roz's head, Palmer walked slowly
backward toward the roof's edge. "Come on, Roz, let's go flyin'. We're gonna
crash land just like your daddy."

Mac and Terri had arrived and ran up to the roof as fast they could. They
got there just in time to see Webb draw his gun and say, "No you won't." He
pulled the trigger twice and two bullets hit Palmer's chest.

The echo of the shots were drowned out by Mac's screaming. She saw Harm
collapse in a heap.

"MAC! Over here!" Harm shouted. "I'm over here!"

Mac snapped her head around to see that she was mistaken and it was actually
Palmer who'd been shot. Roz ran across the roof and Harm crushed her to him,
folding his arms around her and squeezing as tight as he could without
hurting her.

"Baby, I love you. I love you. I love you so much," he said over and over
again. His voice was shaky as he finally succumbed to the emotions that had
been building for days.

Mac ran over and dropped to her knees, joining her husband and daughter in
crying and holding on like she'd never let go. "It's okay. It's over,
sweetie. We've got you."

Webb and Terri hugged and through their own tears, they watched the
emotional reunion.

"This is staying at the diner?" Webb teased.

"Shut up." Terri sniffled and she buried her face against his chest and let
him wrap his arms around her.

Finally, Harm and Mac stood up, and Harm picked Roz up, holding her close to
him. "Mac," he said softly, "take her down to the car. I'll be there in a
few minutes."

"Harm--"

"I'm not finished with Palmer yet."

"Harm, he's dead."

"I know. But I'm not finished with him." He tried to pass Roz to Mac, but
she was clinging to him, her little fingers digging into his shoulder.

"Baby, it's all right. Go with mommy and I'll be right there and we're gonna
go home, okay?" He placed kisses all over her face and she reluctantly went
to Mac.

Mac, Roz, and Terri went back down and out of the building. Webb approached
Harm, who was watching as the blood drained out of Palmer's body. "When he
turned to move, I had a clear shot. Roz was low enough compared to him, and
I don't think he even knew I was here."

Wordlessly, Harm turned around and pulled Webb to him almost as tightly as
he'd held Roz.

"Clay, I..."

"I know."

The two strong men held on to each other for a few minutes before pulling
away. "Clay, do me a favor and go wait with Mac. I need a few minutes."

Webb nodded and made his way out of the building.

Harm slowly walked over to Palmer's body. "I've been waiting a long time for
this, Palmer. I think I'm going to enjoy it even more than all the times
I've imagined it." He bent down and pulled the rubbery mask off, revealing
Palmer's face.

He kneeled next to the lifeless body. "First thing's first, right? See,
you'd think this would disgust me - looking at your dead body. No no no, on
the contrary, there aren't too many things in this world that make me
happier than seeing you with two holes in your chest, and watching the life
seep out of you. But *this*, on the other hand, turns my stomach." Harm
grabbed the gold wings on Palmer's stolen uniform, and without even opening
the pin, he yanked them off, leaving a tear in the fabric.

Harm smiled and took a few calm breaths. "And now, just because my friend
Webb got the pleasure of actually killing you doesn't mean I can't have some
fun..." Harm reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He positioned
it right above Palmer's heart and pushed it in slowly, his satisfaction
growing with each centimeter. When it was buried up to the handle, Harm
twisted it slowly. He couldn't help smiling again. "I told you this was
going to be fun."

He pulled the knife out, wiped the blood on Palmer's uniform jacket, and
stood up to leave. "Oh, wait," he turned around. "I almost forgot..." He
pried Palmer's mouth open. "This is for calling her Sarah." He ran the blade
along the back of Palmer's tongue. "Y'know, it'd make a nice souvenir, but
you're gonna need it where you're going." He tucked the tongue into Palmer's
pocket. "So you can scream and curse my name while you rot in hell. And if
it's a sin to mutilate a body, well, then I'll see you there."

Harm stood up and took in the scene around him. In the distance, beyond the
old smokestacks, the sun was coming up. He made his was down to the two
women who meant more to him than anything. As he approached his wife and
daughter, he took a deep breath of the cool air of dawn, as an orange haze
made its way over the city, chasing away the foggy darkness

The End.