Title: Catch a Falling Spy
Author: Anne Taul, anne_taul@gowebway.com

Summary: Harm and Mac are assigned to find a traitor in the spy world. Could it be Clayton Webb?
Disclaimer: JAG, its' premise, it's characters, etc all belong exclusively to Bellasarius, Paramount and CBS. This is strictly a recreational activity. No profit is being made, and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Special thanks to Sheryl for pointing out some of the errors that needed to be corrected and for encouraging me to keep going.

 

Catch a Falling Star

Sarah MacKenzie leaned heavily against the wall outside her partner's apartment, while he fumbled in his pocket for the keys. "Harm," she began, "you really don't have to make me coffee. After all, you did buy dinner."

"It's no trouble, Mac." As he said it, he put the key in the lock and turned it. Glancing over at her, he put a finger to his lips to warn her to be quiet.

"What is it?" she whispered.

He pulled her away from the door, back into the hallway before whispering in her ear, "Somebody's been here."

Quickly, he led her into the stairwell and shut the door.

"Harm, how do you know?"

"The tape's broken."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ever since Palmer was on the loose and got in here after Jordan, I've been putting a little piece of Scotch tape between the door and the frame when I leave. It can't be seen unless you know to look for it, but it breaks easily when someone opens the door. That way I can tell if anybody gets in here while I'm gone."

"That's paranoid!"

"Yeah, well, maybe so, but I'm never going to be taken by surprise by Palmer or anyone like him again."

"Okay, so your tape's been broken, so you think Clark Palmer has escaped from prison and come here to get you ­ tonight."

"No. It's not necessarily Palmer, but somebody's been here."

"You're beginning to sound an awful lot like Webb." She chided him.

He cringed.

She felt like she should give him a hard time about this new cautionary habit. However, something in her kind of admired his resourcefulness. She simply smiled, then asked, "So, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go in very quietly and see if anybody's still there."

"Okay," she said, "Let's go."

"Mac," his eyes looked longingly into hers, "you wait here and cover me."

"Harm, you need your backup inside."

His eyes were pleading now. When he removed a loose brick from the wall and produced a small side arm, she acquiesced. She took the weapon and followed him.

When he opened the door, she followed him into the doorway, but stayed there.

Harm moved quickly and quietly to remove a second weapon from the drawer of his desk, near the door.

A slight movement from the direction of the bedroom, drew Mac's attention.

Harm turned in that direction and leveled the weapon at the area of movement, ready to fire.

It was then that Mac saw him.

"Stop, Harm!" she called. "Don't shoot!"

Harm stood and lowered the weapon to his side.

"Webb," he addressed the man, "What are you doing here? You damn near got your head blown off."

"Now, that wouldn't be very hospitable, would it?"

"It's hard," Harm surmised, "to extend hospitality to someone who has broken into my home."

"Yeah Clay," Mac spoke up, "breaking and entering isn't really your style."

"This really isn't breaking and entering." Clay assured them.

"Yeah? Then what would you call it?" Harm questioned.

"Breaking and entering implies malicious intent. There's nothing malicious going on; I just stopped by for an unscheduled visit."

"Visiting when no one's home?"

"Well, I knew you'd be back and I was in the neighborhood."

"Okay Webb, cut the crap, what do you want?" Harm finally asked.

"I just need to be here for about an hour."

Mac looked directly into his green eyes, "Who's chasing you?"

"The Navy."

"The Navy?" Harm and Mac reacted in unison.

"Well, more specifically, the Naval Intelligence Bureau." Clay clarified.

"Spy games." Harm muttered under his breath.

"You may as well tell us about it." Mac concluded.

"Actually, JAG will end up being involved, eventually, so maybe it's best that you know now."

"Know what?"

"Well, you see, I've been working undercover for the last few months at the Naval Intelligence training facility. Since the military presence escalated in the Persian Gulf, there has been a leak of intelligence information to the Iranians. Most of this information has been about ship and troop movements for the NATO forces, so we've traced it to Washington and to the Naval Intelligence office. Someone in their training program is picking up some extra income from the Middle East. I am posing as an Intelligence trainee to try to figure out where the leak is coming from-and plug it."

"That's like something out of a Tom Clancy novel, Clay." Mac teased.

"So, someone has found out what's going on?" Harm ventured.

"I'm not sure, but somebody seems to be trying to tell me something, or scare me off." Clay replied.

"Do you have incriminating evidence on anyone?"

"I'm not sure. I must be on to something though, because I think somebody's out to get me."

"So you're close and your cover's blown?" Harm sounded concerned.

"You got somebody for us to prosecute for this ?" Mac guessed. "Who is it?"

"I'm not sure yet. I've got a lot of the notes and information, but I haven't had a chance to put it all together yet."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Stay out of their way. I thought about trying to make them believe that I was dead, but that wasn't too successful last time. I guess I'll just have to lay low for a while."

"At least tell us which officer is under investigation and who the main players are, so we can start preparing." Mac prodded.

"Admiral Hampton is in charge of training for naval intelligence at the Washington Naval Yard in Norfolk. He runs a pretty tight ship. His junior officers do most of the work. There is a Commander Johnson, who serves as the admiral's administrative aid. Lieutentant Commander Burton does most of the field training. A Lieutenant Payton runs the day to day operations of the Office. They all seem like a pretty clean bunch. But one of them is guilty of treason."

"Which one has the most to gain?" Harm queried.

"It's hard to say. None of them is in really bad shape. So far, my money's on Burton. He's been passed over for a couple of promotions that he probably should have gotten. Payton has the most access to information coming in and out of the Office, though."

Mac looked over her fingertips which were arched in front of her face, and "If your cover's blown, what are you going to do now?"

"Probably, only the guilty party knows I'm from the CIA, so I should be able to continue investigating. I plan to talk to Admiral Chegwidden in the morning."

"Oh, no!" Harm sighed. "What do you have in mind?"

"And when the traitor is found, this will become a JAG investigation. I'm thinking, that maybe you could just get started a little early. If the two of you went in undercover, we'd ferret this guy out pretty quickly."

THE NEXT MORNING
JAG HEADQUARTERS


Harm lounged lazily against the door frame leading into Mac's office. A broad smile swept across his face.

Mac admonished him, "Harm, this is not funny. Quit laughing at me."

"I can't help it Mac. If you could see yourself, you'd laugh too."

Major MacKenzie knelt in the floor beside her desk, gathering up the contents of a rather large file folder, which had scattered from one side of the room to the other, when the folder had fallen off the corner of the desk.

She looked up at him, once again, stating, "You could help me, you know."

"And deny you the pleasure? I don't think so."

After saying it, he moved in two quick strides to stand beside her. He reached down and retrieved a handful of papers, which he handed to her. Then, he squatted down close to her and helped her finish the rest of the pick-up job.

Just as they placed the last of it into the folder, the head of Petty Officer Tiner appeared in the doorway. "Ma'am, Sir, the admiral would like to see you in his office right away."

"Coming, Tiner." Mac responded as they both stood up.

Harm followed her into Admiral Chegwidden's inner sanctum. The admiral was seated behind his desk; a middle-aged, gray-haired man leaned against the windowsill, his arms crossed over his chest.

Rabb and MacKenzie took the seats they were offered, as Chegwidden made the introductions. "Commander Rabb, Major MacKenzie, this is Special Agent Arnold Rucker, Deputy Regional Chief for the CIA's Washington bureau."

Rucker shook hands with both of them before he began speaking. "I spoke with Clayton Webb last night, right after the two of you saw him."

"How did you know that we saw Webb last night?" Mac asked.

"I told you, I talked to him. He was really gung-ho about bringing the two of you in on his investigation. I need to know just what he told you."

Harm gave him a hard stare. "If you're in charge of operations from the Washington area, don't you already know all about what he's working on?"

"Of course I do, but I need to know what he was thinking about last night. You see, he failed to make his check in early this morning. Clayton Webb is missing. We can only assume that he has been captured by the enemy."

"Captured?" Mac repeated incredulously.

Harm straightened himself up in his chair, "What makes you think we can tell you anything? You said that you spoke with him after we did."

AJ Chegwidden cleared his throat, as he looked gravely at his officers, "Your involvement in this has been approved by the Secnav ­ and me. Finding and stopping the sale of NATO intelligence on Persian Gulf operations is a top priority for the Navy, and the Pentagon." He paused and swallowed hard, "As well as finding Mr. Webb."

"Of course, Sir." Mac answered, "we'll participate any way we can."

"Good." The admiral said. "I will be available to you at all times. As will all the personnel and resources of this office, but you'll be working primarily under the auspices of Agent Rucker."

Rucker informed them that they would continue with Webb's original plan for their involvement ­ an undercover operation. Harm would be transferring in as Lt. Commander Raleigh, a new adjunct to the Naval Intelligence training office. This cover would provide him to access to all the records in the division. Maybe he could find out how the information was changing hands. Mac, on the other hand, would be the newest trainee in the Naval Intelligence program.

Rucker was to be their contact, and they would be prepared for the particulars of the assignment first thing in the morning.

THAT NIGHT
MAC'S APARTMENT


Mac dropped the stack of paper she'd been reading through on the floor where she sat, and leaned back against the couch behind her. "Do we really have to go through all this stuff tonight?" she lamented.

"These are all of the notes and information Webb had compiled on this case. The more of it that we're familiar with when we start, the better chance we'll have of finding Clay." Harm answered.

"You're right." She conceded.

He stopped his own reading and looked at her, "Mac, you look beat. Why don't you get some rest? I can finish this up."

"I am a little tired, but IŒll be okay." She picked her stack of notes back up.

In one swift movement, Harm rose from his chair, across from her, and moved to sit on the couch behind her. His hands began to gently massage her shoulders and neck. "Just relax." He ordered.

She sighed with pleasure and mumbled, "That feels good." She allowed herself to let go a little of her built up tension , as she reveled in the feel of his strong hands.

After a few minutes, he leaned forward so that his cheek was almost touching hers, "Why don't you go get some sleep? I'll finish this up, then just sack out here. That way we can be all ready to get an early start in the morning."

"Harm, thanks, but I'm fine." She protested. She crooked her neck back to look up at him as he hovered over her. He was still leaned over close to her, so their faces were very close. Reacting as an exhausted person does to a sudden impulse, Mac lifted herself upward just a bit and planted a quick kiss on his unsuspecting lips.

He was startled, but also acted on raw impulse. His hands moved under her arms and lifted her up, while his legs slid together in front of him. The result was that she was, all of a sudden, sitting in his lap.

His arms encircled her and a hand slid behind her head, bringing it closer to him. He kissed her again, very quickly and tentatively, then the kiss melted into a deep, passionate one.

Her arms went round his neck. She pulled him closer as their contact intensified.

Finally, he pulled away. "What are we doing?" he whispered. "Oh, God, Mac, I didn't mean to....."

"I think it's been building up for a long time." She assured him. Harm extricated himself from her embrace, saying, "I think I better go now."

"You don't have to."

"Yeah, I think I do."

They both stood. Harm placed a finger under her chin and turned it up toward him. He placed a light kiss on her lips and said, "Good night."

After his departure, she was dazed. She sat back down on the couch and thought about the sensation of his lips against her skin. It was one she had longed to feel for such a long time, and now that it was a reality, she knew she was in trouble. There would be no such thing as getting enough of that.

The feelings that she had secretly harbored toward Harm for so long were now out on the surface. What would she do about them now? She couldn't believe that she had just kissed him like that. How could she have done that? What must Harm think of her now? He had kissed her back, but still.....

Harm's trip home was an especially long one. Several times he stopped the car, wanting to turn back, but he knew better. She didn't have these same kind of feelings; she couldn't have. At very most, she had gotten caught up in "the heat of the moment."

Neither Harm nor Mac slept much the night before their Naval intelligence mission began.

THE NEXT MORNING
LOBBY OF JAG HQ BUILDING


Mac was already waiting when Harm came in for their scheduled meeting with Agent Rucker.

He smiled at her, "Good morning, Major."

"Commander." She returned the smile.

"Mac, shouldn't Rucker be here by now?"

"Yes, he's three minutes and 28 seconds late."

"You never have told me how you do that."

"It's classified. If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

He took her hand lightly in his and led her to sit in a couple of chairs near the elevator.

Looking into her big brown eyes, he said, "Mac, about last night, I ......"

"Nothing happened last night, Harm, and I don't want to talk about it. We need to concentrate on this case. Webb's six is already on the line, and ours' might be too, if we don't stay focused."

"You're right." He conceded and sat back in his chair. His mind raced. She had said that nothing happened ­ it didn't mean a thing to her. She hadn't even thought about it. His heart sank just a bit.

By the time Rucker arrived, they were 15 minutes behind schedule. Activity in the lobby had picked up, since now JAG staff was beginning to arrive for work, so they went up to Harm's office for their briefing.

They went over all the details for their cover stories. Lt. Commander Raleigh (Harm) was transferring to the Navy's main Intelligence training office from the naval intelligence bureau in Europe. He had worked in the field for a number of years, distinguishing himself. This assignment was a reward for hard work.

Mac was to be Seaman first class Sarah Murphy. Murphy was coming off two tours as a gunner's mate aboard the USS Nemitts. She had earned the right to learn Naval Intelligence, and was a gung-ho student. She had a whole list of response to use if anyone questioned her new interest in this specialty training.

They also reviewed Webb's field notes and the progress reports he'd sent in while working on this case.

Harm and Mac wold coordinate investigative efforts at the training facility and report directly to Rucker.

TWO DAYS LATER


Harm reflected on his first couple of days in the office. The duties had been outlined and reinforced several times. Not too much was really required in this position. He could probably get most of the work done in 2 or 3 hours each day, leaving the rest of his time for investigation. Commander Johnson had come on pretty strong: "The admiral likes things done just so-so. He's a stickler for details, so don't give him any reason to be upset; just get it right the first time." Admiral Hampton, himself, didn't seem as problematic as Johnson made him out to be. He was more easy-going and jovial, but Harm wasn't going to give him any cause to be anything else.

Lieutenant Payton, the office manager, was a quiet, almost anti-social little man. He rarely said a word. Harm thought that he hardly seemed the type to be involved in international espionage. Only time would tell what was going on in Payton's head. The lieutenant's secretary, an attractive civilian woman named Carolyn, was a dynamic presence in the workplace. She talked a lot, even though, often, no one was particularly listening. She certainly wasn't shy. On Harm's first day there, she had rubbed up against him near the file cabinet, invited him out for a drink and outright propositioned him. He'd have to be careful; the last thing he needed was to jeopardize this op over the favors of a beautiful woman.

Harm hadn't met the training officer Lt. Commander Burton. He spent most of his time in the field.

Mac, on the other hand, had definitely met Lt. Commander Burton. She was aware that he was leering at her while she completed her training exercises. She made a mental note to try to avoid him.

Harm was walking along the pier toward the USS Montana, which was moored there. He was to deliver some paperwork for its skipper to sign. He was absently looking around at the various ships in port, so he almost didn't see the person coming toward him until they collided.

Harm reached out to steady the dark-haired form, who was stumbling at their contact.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you." He apologized.

"Look where you're going next time." A familiar voice answered.

It was then that he noticed that the figure in front of him was a woman. It was Mac.

After recognizing her, he was less recalcitrant, "Why don't you pay attention?" he scoffed.

They both lowered their vices to a whisper.

"Have you learned anything?" Harm questioned her.

"Meet me at the apartment tonight." She told him. "I can get away for a little while."

"Looking forward to it." He said, squeezing her hand gently.

Harm knew that she must have something important, because it wasn't easy for her to get away from the barracks where she was housed with the other trainees during this first part of the Navy's Intelligence training.

THAT NIGHT
RENTED APARTMENT OF RALEIGH AND MURPHY
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA


"That's sure better than the food we're getting in the barracks." Mac complimented.

"I never thought I'd see the day when you had something nice to say about my cooking." Harm replied.

"Well, I am trying to be generous." She offered.

After dinner, she helped him carry dishes to the sink and begin to clean up.

He watched her for a few minutes, then reached into the soapy water to grasp her hand. He brought it up out of the sink and held it firmly. He, then, used it to lead her to the living room couch.

They sat, and he asked, "What was it that you had found out that you were going to tell me about?"

As he let go of her hand, she moved it up to gently stroke the side of his face. "Just an observation I've made. That's all."

He removed her hand, then got up and began pacing behind the couch.

"Oh, no! Harm, I make you uncomfortable, don't I?"

"No, of course not."

"I think I do. It's what happened that night, the night before we started this mission."

"No, Mac. I know that you were just caught up in the heat of the moment. I know that wasn't supposed to mean anything. What have you observed?"

"Harmon Rabb! Is that what you think? You think I just couldn't help myself, so that's why I kissed you?" Her heart sank. Obviously his response had meant nothing.

"Mac, we need to get on with the case. We have to find Webb before somebody decides he's a major liability."

When he looked at her, he could see that her countenance had fallen. He sat back down next to her. "Do you have any information, or not?"

"We do a lot of our training exercises down on the docks near the Montana. I've noticed several times that people and supplies seem to be coming and going off that ship. Since it's not on active status right now, I wondered who might be using it , and for what?"

"Have you recognized any of the personnel going and coming?"

"Yeah, my training officer Commander Burton and once Commander Johnson out of the admiral's office. There was a lieutenant with Commander Johnson when he went in. I thought it could have been Payton, but I haven't met him yet, so I'm not sure."

He hated the dejected look on her face, and all he could think about was how incredible it had been to kiss her. He wished he could kiss her again. But she had said it never happened. If she didn't want it, he certainly wouldn't force it. Maybe he was mistaken about the energy between them, or even about his own feelings.

"That pretty well covers everybody on our list of suspects, doesn't it?" he stated. "I wonder what they're all doing on the Montana?"

"There are a few training exercises that my group conducts on board, but not enough to warrant that kind of attention. I'll keep my eyes open. Maybe I can pick up a pattern of who is coming and going and when."

"Good thought." Harm acknowledged. "I'll do a little research in the office to see what I can come up with about the Montana, and what connection those particular sailors have to her."

She reached, tentatively, for his hand. Holding it loosely, she gazed directly into his eyes. "Harm, I don't want this to get in the way of our work, or of our friendship, but ......"

The sentence wasn't finished, because she leaned forward, toward him and planted a soft, gentle kiss against his lips.

He pulled her toward him, and deepened the kiss. He could hardly hide his eagerness.

The kiss and the moment took her breath away. When it ended, she let her head fall onto his chest.

His arms moved to embrace her tightly.

Exhausted, Mac fell asleep lying against Harm's chest, in his arms. He just watched her sleep for a long time. Finally he carried her to the bed in her room of the apartment they were sharing for this assignment. Then, he walked reluctantly to his own room.

In the morning, Harm awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen. It only took a moment for him to realize what was going on.

He saw her in the kitchen, her back to him, taking toast out of the toaster. Moving silently. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He buried his face in the intoxicating fragrance of her hair.

She giggled. "Good morning, Sailor."

"Good morning to you. What's for breakfast?"

"We're running late now. All we have time for is toast and coffee."

"Sounds good." With that, he placed a tender kiss on her neck.

She turned around, still in his arms, to face him. They shared a quick kiss, then she lay her cheek up against his bare chest. "Harm, I was afraid that maybe this had all been a dream, that maybe it hadn't really happened."

"Oh, it's real." He assured her.

There were a couple more exceedingly passionate kisses, then they sat down to breakfast.

"When this is all over, we'll have to sit down and talk about us." He told her. "We'll need to figure out where we are, what it means, and where we're going."

"Sure," she answered, "so let's find Webb and figure out what's going on with this case."

"I thought I'd go through some of the files at the training office today. See what our suspects have been up to. Maybe I can also find something about how the USS Montana has been used since she was decommissioned. I know you think the ship is somehow involved."

"Yeah, well, it's just too much of a coincidence that all of our suspects are coming and going off of it. We'll be training near there today, so I'll watch to see if there's any activity aboard the ship. Harm, where do you think they're keeping Webb? Where would you hide a spy?"

"I don't have a clue where he is. I just hope he's okay. If I were hiding a spy, I'd pick the most obvious place, I guess."

"Where would the most obvious place be?"

"I don't know, but we will find him, Mac."

"We both have our projects for this morning, so let's meet for lunch at the Dockside Bar. We can exchange whatever information we've found then."

"How about 12:30? It's a date." He responded.

They shared a passionate embrace and a quick kiss before parting to go to their separate job assignments.

LATER THAT MORNING
NAVAL INTELLIGENCE TRAINING OFFICE


Harm knew that this was going to be an important discovery. Buried in the files, amid requests for training materials, there were a series of requisitions and authorizations for the transfer of goods from the USS Montana to various foreign owned ships coming from the Persian Gulf.. That, in itself, might not have been too unusual, except that the Montana wasn't in use right now ­ hadn't been for several years. Delving a little further, he noticed that many of these transfers had been arranged using the communication equipment aboard the Montana.

How clever! If you could pass military intelligence information on communication time that was recorded as pickup coordination for some type of supplies (they might even be illegal military supplies?), those communique would probably never be questioned or traced.

The more paper evidence he found, the more convinced he became that this must be what was happening. Somebody had planned this well.

The trail to this information was hidden deep within other records, so it was taking a long time to find each new piece. He could only look when he was alone in the office, so he had to wait for the secretary, Carolyn to leave before he could continue each time.

It was slow work. He was sure that if he could just get to the original orders for this project, he'd know who the culprit was. Whichever officer had signed the orders, was the traitor that the CIA was hunting.

Carolyn took a break about 10:30, so Harm got busy. Then, the telephone rang.

Agent Rucker wanted to meet with him and Mac as soon as possible. They set up a meeting at the apartment for that night.

Because of Rucker's interruption, Carolyn was back before Harm found anything.

When she left for lunch at 12:15, Harm was right back on top of his research. He continued, tirelessly, learning a little more with each recovered document. He lost track of time.

DOCKSIDE BAR AND GRILL
1:00 p.m.


Mac twirled the swizzle stick in her ginger ale for the millionth time. "Where are you, Harm?" her mind asked itself.

A young sailor who had begun celebrating happy hour a little bit too early, offered to keep her company. When she declined, he offered more insistently. She was considering throwing him overboard so that the cold water would sober him up, when the bartender threw him out, instead. It was just as well, she was only interested in one sailor right now, and he was late.

She knew that Harm would want to hear what she had found, and that he'd want her to have backup before she investigated it further, but he'd better hurry up.

By 1:20, Harm was a no-show. Maybe he'd just forgotten about their lunch date. She would just have to proceed without him.

All morning, while Mac had watched the Montana, her training officer, Cmdr. Burton, had been coming and going from the ship. Sometimes he carried packages with him, and once or twice there had been some one else with him.

She had to get aboard that ship to see what was happening. She knew that Harm would do the same thing.

Harm had forgotten about her, so of she went to investigate the USS Montana.

ONE HOUR LATER
ABOARD THE USS MONTANA


Mac had followed Commander Burton onto the ship, while remaining at a distance great enough to be sure he wouldn't detect her.

Burton had, she noticed, gone to specific areas and done specific things. He seemed to know his way around here, and to know exactly what he intended to do. She just had a feeling that she was on the right track to gather the information that this investigation so desperately needed.

"Commander Burton must be the key to all of this," she thought to herself.

She stalked him as he entered an isolated section of the cargo hold, which was separated from the main cargo arena by a series of partitioning walls. He jumped down, so it must be lower than the rest of this deck.

As Mac moved in just a bit closer to try to glimpse what was going on in this section of the cargo hold, she unknowingly tripped a motion detector, setting off an alarm. The noise wasn't terribly loud, but was high pitched and persistent. At first, she hoped maybe nobody would hear the sound.

But soon she felt a pair of arms grab her from behind, then the pain of a heavy blow against the back of her head. Everything went black.

Harm took a deep breath and dropped the folder on his desk. He was sure this was the right track for investigation. Whoever signed the original orders to authorize use of the USS Montana was the traitor.

He knew he was close. There were a few places where his paper trail had hit snags, but he was confident that if he looked farther, he'd find the missing pieces. This was exciting! He couldn't wait to tell Mac.

Just the thought of her made him smile.

He'd see her soon for their lunch date, then he could tell her about what he'd found. It couldn't be too much longer now.

Harm looked at his watch, and his jaw fell. It was 3:15 He should have met Mac almost 3 hours ago.

He knew she would be mad. He just hoped she wasn't worried or anything like that.

The evidence he'd gathered was stuffed carelessly into his briefcase. He picked up that and his cover, and hurried out the office door.

At the bar, though, Mac was no where to be found. He wished he had a picture of her with him to show around. Somebody was bound to have noticed a woman that beautiful.

Fortunately, he remembered what she'd been wearing that morning, and the image of her was permanently burned into his memory. He asked around.

The bartender remembered her. She had had two ginger ales and a hand full of pretzels. He had thought that she was waiting for someone, but she left alone. The bartender didn't know where she'd gone, but it had been a couple of hours ago.

Harm was distraught. Where could she be?

Mac regained consciousness slowly.

She felt him holding her hand. His voice was soft and soothing, as it gently ordered her to open her eyes.

Her eyelids felt like they were glued together. They were so heavy that, though she tried, she couldn't make them open. She'd like to see him, but it was enough to know he was there.

She said his name to reassure him that she was trying to get to him, "Harm."

When her eyes finally did open, she was excited about seeing him, but didn't.

Mac opened her eyes to find herself looking into the face of Clayton Webb.

Clay had a worried look on his face. She wondered what was wrong. Could something be wrong with Harm?

"Webb?" she questioned, tentatively, "Where's Harm?"

"I don't know." Clay answered. "The last time I saw him was that night at his apartment when I saw you both."

"Then how did I get here?"

"Once again, I don't know, Mac. A couple of hours ago that door up above us opened and somebody threw you down here. I'm glad you're here. I've been here all alone for days. I hoped somebody would find me. It looks like you were hit from behind. You've been out for a while. I'm glad that you finally woke up."

Everything that had happened in the investigation came flooding back to Mac. She told Clay about being contacted by Agent Rucker, about their arrangement and about coming on board the ship alone to follow Burton.

Clay had hoped that Harm would know where she was and come to rescue them, but apparently not.

When Mac was able to move around without assistance, they sat back against the wall to talk. They needed a way to get out of here.

Once in a while, Commander Burton or Lt. Payton showed up to bring food, so Clay suggested that would be a good time for them to make their move.

Mac was surprised to learn that Payton and Burton were both involved. She surmised that they were partners in this little espionage game. At least they knew now who was responsible.

Clay corrected her, "We still don't know for sure who's behind this. They could be taking their orders from some place else."

Mac was able to produce two small firearms from somewhere in the vicinity of her shoes. Each armed with one, she and Clay plotted their escape.

"So," Clay asked her, "you don't think Harm will be looking for us at all?"

"When he realizes that he missed our lunch meeting, he may look for me, but he won't know where to look. I just hope he didn't miss the meeting because somebody had already gotten to him." As she said it, her voice quivered a little.

Webb tried to reassure her, "Oh, I'm sure Harm's okay. He's a tough customer."

"I hope so." she responded.

Clay couldn't help but notice how she responded. "You love him, don't you?" His voice held only the slightest hint of surprise.

"Yeah, I think maybe I always have. I've only just realized how much, though." she stopped.

After a few minutes, she went on, "My feelings are really going to complicate things. Please don't say anything to anybody, especially not Harm."

"He doesn't know?"

"No."

Clay moved closer to her and draped a supportive arm around her shoulder. He knew what it was like to love somebody, but not be able to act upon it.

"He's going to be okay, Mac. Really he is."

Mac turned her head to lie on his chest, allowing him to comfort her with an embrace, but only a brief one.

Soon she pulled back from him, dried her misty eye, and began again with the plans for their escape.

Harm had spent hours combing the dock area in search of Mac. She wasn't there. She wasn't back at the apartment. She wasn't on training exercises. She wasn't in the trainee barracks. Apparently, he figured, she'd come up with a good lead and followed it. He was just a little worried, but also determined to have a definitive conclusion from his own investigation through the records, to show her when she came back with a lot of solutions. He smiled at the thought of how good she was at her job.

Harm returned to the training office and continues sifting through the records that he believed left a paper trail directly to the traitor.

Finally, he found that one piece of evidence that brought it all together. It was the original order for transfer of the USS Montana to this dry dock station, after her decommissioing. He read through the document carefully. It highlighted all the capabilities of the ship, including a detailed section on her communications equipment. The signatures on these request and approval forms should point to the guilty party. And there it was, on the last page ........

MEANWHILE
USS MONTANA
CARGO HOLD


"No, I think once out of this area we should stay together until we get off the ship." Mac stated emphatically.

"We'll have a much better chance of eluding our captures and getting away, if we split up." Clay countered.

"Well, we will know where we're going, if we need to come back. Okay Webb, we do it your way. But our first objective after we get out of here is to find Harm."

"Agreed."

When they thought the time was about right for their capture's return, they took their places. Mac was against the wall, on a small ledge adjacent to the door. Clay was under the door opening, on the floor. Both held weapons at ready.

The door swung inward, and Lt. Commander Burton entered carrying a tray of food, intended for the prisoners. When he was inside the room, Mac sighed heavily to get his attention, while Clay moved into position.

Burton looked over at her, and commented, "Murphy, I'm disappointed that you let yourself get messed up in this."

She rolled her eyes slightly before replying, with a sarcastic tone, "I could say the same about you, Commander."

"Touche." He mocked

Burton bent over to set the tray he carried down. When he did, Mac brought the handle of her small sidearm down hard between his shoulders.

He fell, but as he fell, he grabbed Mac's ankle, attempting to take her down with him.

She steadied herself, and by employing her superior reflexes, was able to remain standing. The grip on her ankle, though, was firm.

During this time, Clay had managed to pull himself up and block off the corridor outside their room, so no one else could enter.

He reached back inside their small cargo space and took Mac's hand. "Let's go." He commanded. As he said it, he tried to pull her along after him, but she was stuck.

Clay raised his gun and fired a round into Commander Burton's left wrist, causing it to withdraw itself from Mac's ankle.

Together, they exited the hallway they were in and started upward. When they reached the next level, they parted company, one going left, the other right. Mac promised, "I'll see you on the pier."

Clay continued up several more levels and in a direction that he generally thought was toward the docks. He knew that he wasn't thinking clearly. Mostly he was acting on instinct.

Clayton Webb eventually hit fresh air, pausing to breath it deeply. Then he hurried down the gangway, onto the pier to rejoin Mac.

Once on the pier, though, he didn't see anyone, so he kept moving, frantically.

After a few minutes, he literally ran headlong into a person coming from the direction of the training center office.

Firm arms caught him, and a voice said, "Well, what do we have here? It's Clayton Webb."

Clay looked up in something akin to abject terror.

He found himself staring directly into the deep blue eyes of Harmon Rabb.

"Harm!" he exclaimed out of breath, "Where's Mac?"

Harm took in a deep breath and sighed, "I wish I knew. I've been looking for her all day. We were supposed to meet at lunch, but I didn't make it. Now, I can't find her anywhere."

"No,no" Clay interrupted, "I mean right now, where is she. If you've been standing there for 5 minutes, you should have seen her come off the ship."

Rabb grabbed the smaller man by the collar. "What are you talking about, Webb? Have you seen her?"

"Yes, we went separate ways after we escaped from the cargo hold. You mean she didn't come out?"

Harm did not have to hear too much more. He started up the gangway onto the USS Montana, Clayton Webb behind him.

"Where are you going?" Webb asked.

"To find Mac."

"Okay. We'd better stay together."

The two men made their way back to the small partitioned room where Clay and Mac had been imprisoned. They searched that, and everything along the way, but there was no sign of Mac anyplace.

On the way back out, they tried to retrace her path, turning the direction that Clay had last seen Mac. When they came to a large corridor, Harm bent to pick up a small Dehringer side arm from the floor. Clay looked at it, the pronounced, "It's Mac's."

"How do you know that?" Harm questioned. He was a little skeptical that Clayton Webb could identify something of his partner's that he, himself, couldn't.

"Look at this." Webb said in answer, pulling an identical matching weapon from his pocket.

"Where'd you get this?" Harm asked.

"It's Mac's. She gave it to me when we were escaping. See? They're a matched set."

"Somebody's got her." Harm concluded. "She'd never give up her weapon voluntarily."

"But who?" Clay asked.

"I found some information in the office that shows exactly who's behind all this information brokering. Let me show it to you. Maybe it'll help us to find her."

Harm had a sinking feeling, though, that it wasn't going to be that easy. No, this was far from over.

NAVAL INTELLIGENCE TRAINING OFFICE
NAVAL SHIP YARD
NORFOLK,VIRGINIA


Clay and Harm arrived at the office where Harm had been working very early in the morning, well before any other personnel might be in. Webb was actually rather impressed by Harm's theory about the traitor being the officer who had originally requisitioned access to the Montana's communication systems. He may have been a bit skeptical, however, about the ability to actually track that information down.

Harm patiently showed him the evidence that he had uncovered over the past few days. Clay was very interested in this. Harm was able to lay out a very convincing, albeit complicated, paper trail.

Toward the end of this presentation the two of them stood looking at a copy of the authorization for use of the USS Montana's long-range radio satellite systems, a document over three years old. Both men gasped at the signature that appeared there.

Admiral Isaac Hampton.

"No wonder it's been so difficult to trace." Webb commented. "Who'd question an admiral in charge of training Naval intelligence officers wanting to use sophisticated systems aboard an inactive ship to train his people?"

Harm swallowed hard. "And nobody would think twice about the orders he gave his junior officers to protect and maintain the security of those systems."

"He could even make holding captives on the ship look like a training exercise."

"Very clever." Harm complimented. "So, if this guy has Mac, where would he be holding her?"

Clayton Webb scratched his head and considered carefully before answering, "He's got to suspect that somebody's on to him now, so he'd take her away from here."

"But where?" Harm's voice was beginning to show concern.

Wanting to get away from the office before anyone came in to find them, they headed back to the apartment Harm had been sharing with Mac during this assignment.

AN HOUR LATER
APARTMENT OF RALEIGH AND MURPHY
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA


Harm handed Clay a cup of coffee, then went about setting the table with fresh toast and eggs for their breakfast.

Clay carried a legal pad full of notes with him as he sat down at the table. Looking through some of the things he had written there, he said, "We need to find out if Hampton owns any property or anything like that near here. You can bet he'd take Mac to some place that was familiar to him."

Harm's reply was little more than a grunt. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard to find out."

"Harm," Clay's tone was serious, "I still can't get past the fact that even though most of the information that was passed was military, it didn't go through military channels. There's got to be an accomplice out there in the diplomatic corp."

"You spy boys can worry about that later, Clay. All I care about is getting Mac out safely."

Clayton Webb looked at his friend with a sympathetic eye, "You're really in love with her, aren't you?"

"It shows?"

"Only because I know you so well."

Harm raised an eyebrow. There were times when he might negate the assumption that Webb really knew him all that well, but now wasn't one of them.

It was true what Webb said. He was deeply and hopelessly in love with his beautiful partner. He wondered why he'd never told her that. Now, while he was in a situation where he might never have the chance again, he regretted that. However, she didn't have the same feelings, so maybe it was best if she didn't know how she effected him.

Webb was talking, but Harm wasn't hearing what he was saying, until a thought occurred to him.

"Clay, maybe we best not advertise where you are, or that you're back in circulation. It could work to our advantage if the culprits didn't know where you were."

"That's what I just said, Harm."

"Oh. Maybe we could get Agent Rucker to gather up some of this information, while you lie low for a while."

"Rucker?"v "Yeah, that who's working with us. I guess the Company assigned him after you disappeared."

"Rucker is an idiot. I never would have chosen him for a case this sensitive."

"Well, that's who's on it. If he can help us find Mac, I don't care what you think of him"

"Let's not tell him that you've found me just yet."

"Okay, if you say so."

While they finished their breakfast, Clay and Harm made plans for their individual tasks for the day. They would meet back here at 1800 hours to compare findings.

SEARCHING THE CIA FILES


Clayton Webb searched mostly in the dark. His only light came from a small flashlight held between his teeth. It was broad daylight outside, but he couldn't risk any lights that might give him away as he went through the files in the basement of the CIA building in Washington.

If he were caught, the intelligence bureau connection, who was in league with Admiral Hampton, would be alerted. That would make catching him difficult, if not impossible. No, it was better to be a little inconvenienced now.

This search was tedious and dangerous work. Clayton Webb knew very well that he wouldn't do this for just anybody. But he was a man who didn't have many friends. And Harm and Mac were friends ­ he'd do anything for them. He, himself, was desperate to find Mac, and to help the man who (he could now see) loved her.

His mind considered the possibility of Harm and Mac together. He smiled. Someday, he'd find a woman like that too.

Harm had been to the office, but hadn't found anything. Even the admiral's phone records had been destroyed.

Now, he paced nervously up and down the living room of the apartment in Norfolk.

All he could think about was ­her. Why had it taken him so long to realize how he felt about Mac? When he found her, how was he going to tell her that he had fallen in love with her? She'd been hurt so many times by men that he was sure she wouldn't welcome the possibility of another relationship. Besides, she saw him as no more than a friend.

He'd have to make her see what could be between them. He'd have to convince her of how sure he was that she was THE one for him. Never mind all that stuff, he just wanted to see her, to hold her in his arms.

He whispered it aloud, in exacerbation, "Sarah, where are you?"

1800 HOURS
THE APARTMENT IN NORFOLK


Harm sat eagerly awaiting Clay's arrival. He should be there any time now.

When Webb entered the apartment, Harm almost tackled him. "What'd you find?"

"Nothing to indicate who the double agent in the Company is." Clay replied, glibly.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it, Clay! What about finding Mac?"

"Oh, that!"

Harm's voice rose just a bit. "You know what I mean! Do you have anything or not?"

Clay leaned casually against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew it was near cruel to torture Harm this way, but he sort of enjoyed seeing his friend so riled up. "Hampton owns a large estate near Petersburg. He has a large house, several out buildings, barns, storage facilities, all that kind of stuff. Apparently it's a big operation. That's not too far from here, but it's outside the area we'd normally be looking in. I think it would be the perfect place to hold a prisoner that you didn't want to be found."

"Great!" Harm exclaimed. "what are you waiting for? Let's go!"

"Wait a minute!² Clay warned, "let's not go running off half cocked. We need a plan here. Harm, don't get your hopes up. This could be a false lead."

"No!" Harm insisted, "this has got to be it!"

Webb unrolled some maps onto the tabletop. "Here are some diagrams of the schematics of the place."

Harm looked at this new information carefully. "She could be in any of a thousand places here." He lamented.

"Maybe so." Webb concluded, "but there has been increased activity in this bungalow on the west end of the property. Records show a number of deliveries, including food and water being made there in the last two days."

"Then that's it!" Harm yelled. "I'm going to get her." With that, he started out the door.

Webb grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside. "You are not going running out there like a maniac. You could get her killed that way."

"What aren't you telling me, Clay?"

"This compound has a security system like Ft. Knox." Clay answered.

"Oh, great. What are we going to do now?" Harm sounded dejected.

"Well, I have an idea." Clay began, ³C'mon, I'll tell you about it in the car."

LATER
ADMIRAL HAMPTON'S COMPOUND
NEAR PETERSBURG, VIRGINIA.


Mac took a deep breath full of stale air and sat back down on the floor, near a corner of the room. It was a dreary basement room with nothing more than a cot, a small table and a commode.

She didn't know where she was; only that she'd been there at least 16 hours, 37 minutes and 43 seconds. She had awaken to this environment, but the last thing she remembered before was leaving another confinement in the company of Clayton Webb.

Webb was always trouble, but during their escape, she'd seen a different side to him, one that was more caring, more lovable. She hoped he had gotten away okay. Judging by the dull ache and slight knot in the back of her head, she surmised that she must have been hit and knocked out before being brought here.

During her stay at this particular place, she had heard lots of noises. However, now there was as different one, one that seemed very close.

She saw light as a door opened at the top of the stairs which led out of this subterranean room. It was not mealtime yet. What could be going on?

A tall figure clad entirely in black, so that it was hard to see, moved swiftly down the steps and made its way toward her. She held her breath. It was dark and she didn't want to make herself any more obvious than necessary.

What happened took her completely by surprise.

The shadowy figure moved cautiously, but rapidly toward her. An arm went beneath her own arm and around her waist, where it quickly lifted her to her feet. She thought about screaming, but who would hear?

When she finally was on her feet, she found herself looking squarely into the massive chest of Harmon Rabb.

His free hand moved up to tenderly stroke her cheek, and she heard a quiet utterance of, "Thank God!"

"Harm!" she whispered in return.

"Shh!" he warned her. "Mac, are you okay?"

She relaxed and let herself lean against his chest just a little. "Now I am."

He gently guided her back to sitting on the floor. He sat beside her. He'd never moved the arm that was supporting her, so his arm was still snuggly around her as they sat.

They spoke only in quieted voices. Harm reached to bring her head to lie gently against his chest.

"Shouldn't we get out of here?" Mac asked him.

"We will." He assured her. "This place has more security systems than a whole fleet of ships. Webb'll let us know when he has it disabled so that we can leave without attracting too much attention."

"Webb?"

"Webb. Mac, he's been really worried about you too."

"Yeah," she answered, moving closer to Harm and enjoying the feel of his arms around her and his chest beneath her head.

She answered his questions about what had been happening. She told of Admiral Hampton and his men coming and going. At one point they tried to interrogate her, but she didn't really know any of the information they were looking for.

Hearing about this, Harm smoothed the hair back from her face and kissed her cheek.

Noting his arms holding her tightly, Mac observed, "This feels good."

"It sure does." He agreed.

He looked deeply into her eyes and said, "I swore that when I found you, I would tell you about what I feel."

"So? Tell me."

"You just mean so much to me, Mac" He punctuated this statement by bringing his lips down to completely cover hers. The kiss was slow and tender at first, but it quickly turned furious and passionate.

He was immediately aware that she matched him move for move. She felt warm, so warm. He thought they might boil over in their heat. He'd just never experienced anything quite so intense.

They were almost totally lost in each other when the lights flickered, then went out. In a short time they were back on, only to be doused again.

"That's it!" Harm exclaimed.

"What are you talking about?"

"The lights. That's our signal from Webb. Let's go, Honey."

She stood and grasp his hand tightly. As they began to move, she asked, "What did you just call me?"

"What? I don't know: Sarah? Sweetheart? Darling? Honey?"

"That's the one."

"You don't like to be called that?"

"I think maybe I do."

They continued along the route that Webb and Harm had worked out for their escape. When they exited the house, Mac slowed down, almost stopping.

Harm draped his arm around her waist and encouraged her forward. "C'mon, Mac, only a little farther."

"It's just the fresh air. It's kind of burns my lungs."

"Oh, God!" he thought to himself. He hated the thought of her cooped up in the basement with stagnant air for so long that she was suffering now. He helped move her forward, at times all but carrying her.

When they reached a road, Harm ushered her into the back seat of a waiting car, getting in behind her. The car sped quickly away. It was several minutes before she noticed that the driver was Clayton Webb.v

LATER
THE NORFOLK APARTMENT


The ride back had been relatively uneventful. She stayed very close to Harm and relished the warmth of his arms holding her.

They stopped and picked up food on the way. Mac was famished. She began eating even before they arrived at the apartment. Harm laughed at her, but really was glad to see that she had such a good appetite.

Once back home, she declared that all she wanted was a shower. She went to the bathroom, leaving the men plotting something she wasn't sure about, involving a mole in the CIA.

When she returned, Clay was busily making notes on a legal pad. Harm was waiting to enfold her in his embrace, which he did.

It occurred to her that the heat from a shower coupled with the heat generated in her from his nearness, might be enough to cause a spontaneous combustion. It was a great feeling.

They moved to sit on the couch. Wrapped in each other's arms, the kisses came easily and naturally. They were so caught up in their feelings that they were oblivious to anything else going on around them. Until ........ Clay stood up and announced that he was going out. He was going to try to finish his investigation into the CIA's link to Hampton, besides, they looked like they "wanted to be alone."

Left alone, Harm and Mac's passion intensified, if that was possible.

When they came up for air, she spoke, "You never did finish telling me."

He answered, equally breathless, "Telling you what?"

"About your feelings."

"Oh, that." He cradled her face between his hands and gazed deeply into her big brown eyes, "Sarah, I love you."

"Really? Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely positive. I'm in love with you." His heart sank. She didn't feel anything.

She smiled up toward his face. "Good." She said, "because I'm totally in love with you."

He began to laugh, but it was silenced by her mouth covering his. The kiss following their mutual confession was the most intense one of all. It led immediately to his placing a trail of light kisses down her neck. One of his hands held the back of her head, while the other began pulling at the buttons of her blouse.

She helped with the buttons, then grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt to pull it over his head. Her hands gently massaged his muscular chest.

All of a sudden, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

LATER


Harm closely watched this beautiful woman who had fallen asleep in his arms. She was so perfect, and he loved her so much. He'd never been this happy before.. He leaned over to place a soft kiss on her forehead, careful not to wake her.

He lay staring at her. Then, he heard a knock at the front door. He quickly and gently detangled himself from her and pulled on a pair of sweat pants. He moved quietly from the room. There was no need to wake her.

Opening the door, he revealed Special Agent Arnold Rucker.

"Rucker, it's late." He complained. "Couldn't this wait until morning?"

"No." his answer was succinct. "Where's Webb?"

"I don't know. He left earlier. Why?"

"We've taken Hampton into custody, but you were right at our last meeting when you said that somebody from the CIA might be involved with him. We identified the mole in The Company."

"That's good." Harm congratulated him. "Who is it?"

At about this time, Mac entered from the bedroom, wrapping a robe around herself.

Rucker looked from one of them to the other. "It's Clayton Webb. He's the traitor."

"No." Mac said softly.

"Can't be." Harm challenged the other man, "I know Webb, he wouldn't be involved in something like that."

"It was hard for me to believe too. But it's true. We have all the evidence. It all points to him. And he seems to have disappeared. Do you know where he is?" This time he looked hard at Mac.

"No." She answered. "We saw him earlier today, but don't know where he was going."

Rucker looked skeptical. "Did he say anything? What was he doing?"

Harm moved forward and took Mac's hand in his. "He said he was working on something, but didn't say what. You know Webb, he's always real cryptic that way."

"Well, the agency's looking for him. If you see him or if he contacts you at all, call this number." He handed them a card.

He cleared his throat, then added, "Don't let yourself be fooled, Webb's a dangerous man."

Rucker left, and Harm and Mac stood in the floor looking at each other.

"Harm, Webb couldn't be doing something like that."

"No, of course not." Harm confirmed. "but we better try to warn him that they're looking for him."

It was a wee hour of the morning, an important morning for both of them, though they didn't have time to discuss or even think much about what had happened between them the night before. They made a pot of coffee and got to work.

Harm tried calling Webb's cell phone ­ he never went anywhere without it, but didn't reach him. Mac pulled out and dialed 3 different emergency numbers that Clay had given them, but also to no avail. The only other idea they had was to contact him through the CIA and State Department offices. They didn't dare, though, these were the people out to get him.

Mac was curled up on the end of the couch with the telephone, while Harm was pacing the length of the room.

"Stop that!" she ordered him. "It makes me nervous, and you're going to wear a hole in the carpet."

"Yes, Ma'am." He replied, dropping down to sit next to her. He encircled her with his arms and pulled her close.

"Where could Clay be? He couldn't have just disappeared." She said.

"I don't know." Was all he could say.

Mac relaxed against his chest before asking, "Harm, when this is over, when we find Clay, and find whoever's responsible for all this, will we still be like this back at JAG?"

"Like what?"

She raised herself up to look at him squarely, "Like last night and like ..." she kissed him, then moved to nuzzle his neck. "will we be like this at the office or is it just a passing thing?"

"No, not at the office, Darling."

"So, it'll all be over. It's just a casual thing?"

"Nothing I feel for you could ever be casual. We can continue with this." As he said it he gently stroked her cheek, "I just think in the office might be too obvious a place ­ too many people around. Your desk or mine?"

She laughed. "Can you imagine the look on the admiral's face?"

He smiled. "To answer your question, maybe we need to be private for a little while."

"Good." She concluded, "I don't want to share you yet."

In the middle of a kiss, Harm pulled away.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He looked at her and smiled. "If Clayton Webb were hiding out and didn't want to be found, where would he go?"

"Isn't that what we're trying to figure out?"

He placed a quick kiss on the top of her head. "I've got an idea."

Harm picked up the phone and dialed a number.

Not sure what he was up to, Mac listened carefully.

"Hello, Mrs. Webb. This is Lt. Commander Harmon Rabb from the Judge Advocate General's Corp. Ma'am I need to speak to Lt. Abby Cowen."

"Yes, Ma'am, I understand, but do you know where I might reach Lt. Cowen?"

"Yes, if you could relay the message, I'd be most grateful."

He hung up the phone and Mac grinned at him. "Smart, very smart."

"Yeah," he grinned, "that's why you love me, right?"

"You got it, Flyboy!"

After a little while, they had finished their coffee and breakfast and made plans to try to flush out the real CIA traitor. They divided the chores.

Harm would return to the Naval Intelligence training office and use his cover as Lt Commander Raleigh to access records about which agents may have had dealings with Admiral Hampton and/or had some connection with the USS Montana.

Mac would go to the Pentagon to search through similar records there. Harm told her it was a perfect cover, She could say that she, Sarah Murphy, a Navy Intelligence trainee, was completing a training assignment by searching Pentagon records concerning Naval Intelligence.

Harm's day was trying. The training office secretary, Carolyn, had chosen today to catch up on a backlog of paperwork. Harm just worked around her and tried to avoid her, until ......

Carolyn took a coffee break and ended it by plopping herself down in Harm's lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt. When she kissed him, he pushed her away.

She acted wounded, but did back off.

"I don't want to offend you, Carolyn." He explained, "but there's somebody in my life, somebody I care very much about."

All she said was, "Lucky girl."

Mac's day was a bit more productive. After several hours of dead ends, she pulled a file out of a drawer that contained an interesting report. The report was anonymous, and had, obviously never been submitted. It detailed the activities of Admiral Hampton and the movements of the USS Montana. There was information about the communications equipment aboard the ship and a list of coordinates for transmissions. This was probably what they were looking for.

Look as she might, Mac wasn't able to find any agent's name associated with this, but there were computer codes on it, which she was sure could be traced back to the guilty party.

She discreetly tucked the folder into her briefcase and made her way out of the basement of the massive office building.

She hailed a cab on the street. The driver took a route she hadn't anticipated. When they'd stopped at a red light, the opposite door of the car opened and a man got in with her.

Mac instinctively reached for the door handle to get out, but the man stopped her. She felt trapped. He removed the scarf from in front of his face to reveal .....

........Clayton Webb.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

He spoke in whispers, "I was going to the Pentagon to retrieve some information, but I'm too late."

"What do you mean?"

He handed her a piece of paper. "You and Harm, meet me at this address at midnight. Make sure you're not followed."

At a stop sign, he opened the door and got out. Mac reached for his arm, "Be careful, Clay."

"You too." He paused, then, "You too."

LATER
THE NORFOLK APARTMENT


It was a little later than the agreed upon meeting time when Mac got back to the apartment, probably because of the detour in her cab ride. She knew that Harm would already be there. And she was excited to tell him all that she'd found ­ evidence and Webb.

She slowly turned her key in the lock, half expecting him to come to the door to meet her. Once in, she looked quickly around, but didn't see him.

The door was open to the small balcony. Smiling, she made her way out there. just as she crossed the balcony threshold, an arm circled her neck. She'd been in a choke hold before, so she moved to avoid it, throwing the perpetrator to the ground.

First she heard the sound of a glass shattering as liquid spilled over her feet. A cry of surprise and frustration escaped her would-be assailant as he hit the ground.

Looking down, she identified .....

Harm just lay there looking up at her in surprise.

She knelt beside him almost instantaneously, cradling his head in her lap. Her tone belied her shock and frustration, "Harm, why did you grab me like that? Are you okay? I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

When he assured her that he was, in fact, basically uninjured, she again questioned why he had attacked her.

He sat up and said, "I didn't attack you. I had something I wanted to give you."

"Yeah? What?"

He moved closer, again encircling her neck with his arm. Then he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. His other hand massaged her lower back.

Mac was amazed by the way his touch seemed to sear her flesh.

The kiss deepened and she moved closer. When they finally broke apart, she whispered, "That's something to come home to."

He cupped her cheek in his hand and stroked it with his thumb. "I didn't realize that was going to be dangerous. I've never been in love with a marine before."

"I shouldn't have reacted that way." She conceded, leaning in for another kiss.

When they closed the balcony door and came inside, she remembered all that she had to tell him.

"Webb says hello." She began.

"You saw him?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Where is he?"

"He's lying low, but he got the message you left with his mother, and he wants to meet us tonight."

MIDNIGHT
AN ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
BETWEEN WASHINGTON AND NORFOLK


Mac and Harm had parked their car well away from the rendezvous point to avoid detection.

"This sure is an out of the way place." Mac observed, as they entered the structure.

The door shut, as it of its own volition, behind them, and a husky voice said, "That's the idea."

Harm automatically tightened his grip on her hand.

They were beginning to feel a little creepy when Clayton Webb stepped out of the shadows.

"Thanks for coming." He whispered.

"What's going on, Clay?" Harm had to ask.

In the ensuing conversation, the JAG officers learned that Webb had discovered that a planning record had existed in the Pentagon which tracked Hampton's involvement in the selling of intelligence information, and the usage of the Montana. He thought if he could retrieve it, he would be able to flush out the CIA mole. Alas though, someone had gotten to the Pentagon records before he did, so he would have to think of another way to find the culprit.

With a big grin, Mac fished a file folder out from under the jacket she was wearing.

One look at it caused Clay to break out in the same devilish grin.

This was the break they had been waiting for.

Before dawn, they had hashed and rehashed their plan for apprehending the treasonous spy.

Both Harm and Mac gave Clay the key to their apartments in Washington. He thought that if he moved between those two, his own place and his mom's place, he could always stay one step ahead of the agency sweepers who were chasing him.

He would subtly put out the word that Harm and Mac had the stolen Pentagon documents. Whoever went to extremes to try to get them back would be the guilty party. Harm and Mac would continue their work at Norfolk.

Harm's first reaction was to try to send Mac back to JAG. This sounded awfully dangerous. Surely it would be better if only one of them took that risk.

Her response was, "Then pack your bags and go home, Sailor."

They would both stay.

The next day was an uneventful one. They resisted the temptation to go to the computers and try to break the codes to identify their nemesis. Webb thought that would only cause the traitor to become more desperate, thus putting them in more danger.

In the afternoon, they went to the gym and worked out, came home and took a shower together, then lay down for a nap.

Mac enjoyed the sensation of waking up in his arms. It would be a perfect feeling if it weren't for that infernal pounding. As she drifted further awake, she realized that someone was pounding on the front door.

She decided not to wake Harm, so she had to carefully pull her legs out from under his. His slumber didn't seem to be disturbed. She pulled on sweat pants and a T-shirt before hurrying to answer the door.

Arnold Rucker stood in the threshold of the apartment, and he showed no qualms about pushing his way inside.

He seemed, to Mac, to be a little crazed. He was ranting, so she moved back to try to avoid any direct contact.

Rucker went on and on about "Webb this" and "Webb that." He kept asking where Webb was. Of course, Mac didn't really know.

All the racket eventually roused Harm, who came to stand behind Mac. He yelled at Rucker to "Calm down!"

Finally getting hold of himself, Rucker stated, "I don't think you people realize how serious this is. Clayton Webb is a dangerous man. He even stole documents from the Pentagon that could incriminate him. If you two don't cooperate in helping us catch him, you're both going to be in a lot of danger."

He left a card bearing an emergency 24 hour number, and admonished them to get in touch with him as soon as they had any information.

Several hours later, Harm and Mac were sipping coffee and talking quietly when Clayton Webb made his appearance. He looked disheveled and unkempt. His news was that after today, Mac and Harm would be able to return to Washington and resume their lives, if nobody confronted them about the Pentagon information. He, however, would have to remain hidden and on the run. Clay appreciated all their help, but felt that he couldn't put them in so much danger any more.

Both the JAG officers pledged their support and promised to continue to assist him in any way that they could.

THAT EVENING


After an enjoyable dinner, which Mac had cooked herself, Harm announced his intentions to go to the Navy Intelligence training office to clear up any loose ends before the conclusion of this assignment.

"Don't go." Mac pleaded with him.

"Why not?" he questioned her.

"Harm, tomorrow this assignment is over, then we go back to JAG, back to normal life, with everything the way it was before."

"So?"

"So, this is our last night, our last chance to be Seaman Murphy and Commander Raleigh. Stay with me."

His head swirled, not fully comprehending what she was saying. Surely she didn't think that their new relationship depended on this mission? She couldn't think it would end when they moved back to Washington? He was confused. But she looked so beautiful standing there in front of him. If he hadn't believed he owed it to Webb to make sure that all pertinent information was gathered from the training office, nobody could have dragged him out of this apartment and away from her side.

But national security and the life of a friend were hanging in the balance; now was not the time to discuss the future of their relationship.

He held both of her hands and looked deeply into her big brown eyes, "I need to do this, it's important. I'll go, I'll get it done, I'll come right back. If I leave now, I can be back in 2 hours, maybe less. Then, we'll have the whole night to be together ­ with nothing hanging over our heads."

He punctuated his bargain with a gentle kiss on her neck.

She smiled, sweetly (How he loved her smile!) "Okay, Sailor, but hurry back."

"Oh, I will. I promise."

"And, Harm?"

"Hmm?"

Her hand lay against his cheek. "Be careful."

"Of course." He promised. With that he moved toward the door, stopping to lean down for a full and passionate kiss.

As he exited, he ask her, "Save my place?"

She nodded and closed the door behind him.

She sat on the couch to think. It had never occurred to her that she might fall so much in love with a man like Harmon Rabb. They'd been friends for a long time, but this was something she'd never dared to imagine, even. And, what was best, she really believed he felt the same way. It was almost too good to be true.

Mac tried to organize all their notes on the case, so they could be easily written into a report. Then, she called Admiral Chegwidden to tell him that she and Harm would be at JAG tomorrow to brief him on what was going on.

She was finishing up some of her notes when she heard someone in the hallway, outside the door. Harm was back already. She wanted to surprise him, so she rushed into the bedroom to prepare for the romantic evening she anticipated.

After a few minutes, there was frantic knocking at the door. Had Harm forgotten his key?

Mac moved swiftly to the door and opened it wide to admit Harm, but ......

Instead of the man she loved, Mac had let in Agent Rucker.

He was gruff, and appeared to have been drinking. The smell of stale liquor made her feel nauseated.

Rucker's voice was raised as he confronted her, "Major MacKenzie, word on the street is that you may have the information that Webb stole from the Pentagon. Where is it?"

She hoped her reply sounded innocent, "What are you talking about?" She paused. "You know, Rucker, you don't look like you feel too good. Are you tired? Would you like to lie down and get some rest?"

"You know very well what I'm talking about, Major. Where is it?"

He kept advancing toward her, and she continued to back away from him. When he had gotten close, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her arm into an uncomfortable position.

With one move, Mac had turned her wrist against his hand to break his grip and thrown off his momentum enough to send him sprawling onto the floor.

She continued backing away, hoping to avoid a confrontation in which she might be forced to hurt him.

Rucker slowly raised himself up from the floor, still surprised by this woman's action. His tone was softer as he again warned her about how dangerous it was to stand in the way of bringing Clayton Webb to justice. This misguided loyalty wasn't going to help anybody.

As he regained a standing position, he brought a gun out of his pocket and leveled it at her, demanding, "Where's the evidence?"

She was a little too far away to act, so she began preparing herself for what seemed the inevitable.

Just as Rucker was about to pull the trigger, Harm jumped him from behind, sending him once again to the floor.

Harm, then, moved quickly to Mac's side, taking her hand.

"Let's get out of here!" he ordered.

Rucker, still on the floor, had somehow managed to get hold of his weapon again. As Harm and Mac moved past him, he raised it toward Mac.

Reacting instantly, Harm pushed her out of the line of fire. In process, though, he was hit by the round discharged from the small handgun.

Harm fell.

Rucker, back on his feet, now, came after Mac. Her first thought, though, was to keep him away from the injured Harm. She dodged his lunge, then dropped to her knees beside the fallen Harm.

The CIA agent leveled his gun at them and shouted, "I'll get rid of both of you now!"

Mac was holding Harm's head and examining the wound in his left shoulder. If the gun went off, there was nothing she could do about it now. The thought occurred to her that at least she and Harm were together.

All of a sudden, from out of nowhere, a man appeared and fired a shot at Rucker,, bringing him down. Rucker was quickly back on his feet and out the door. The man started to pursue, but then returned to the apartment.

Clay knelt beside Mac as she was tending to Harm. Mac turned to hug her friend.

"How is he?" Clay asked.

"I'm fine." Harm spoke up. He attempted to stand.

"You are not fine." Mac protested. "You've lost a lot of blood."

Clay was already on his cellular phone calling for an ambulance.

LATER
LOCAL HOSPITAL
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA


A doctor walked into a waiting room and addressed Mac and Clay, who sat together. "He's a strong guy, he'll regain use of that arm and shoulder over time, but he's lost a lot of blood. He's very weak right now, so he needs a lot of rest. We'll keep him here overnight, then he can go home tomorrow to take it easy. Is there somebody who can stay with him for a few days to make sure he eats right and rests?"

"Thank you, Doctor." Mac said. "Yes, I'll stay with him. Just let me know what he'll need. May I see him now?"

"You can see him, he's right back there, but don't stay too long, he needs his rest. The nurse will give you instructions for taking care of him before he leaves tomorrow."

EPILOGUE


Harm was not a very good patient. After she got him back to his place, Mac had to fight him every step of the way to get him to take his medicine, eat right and stay inactive. As soon as he felt a little better, he wanted to be up and back to work, but she feared a relapse if they didn't follow the doctor's instructions.

They spent a lot of time together, and the bond between them grew stronger and stronger.

Harm wondered what she had meant when she had talked about everything going back to the way it normally was between them after this assignment. Did she really think that their feelings would just disappear, or did she not really have those kind of feelings for him? Maybe he was making too much out of it. He was afraid of what might happen if he brought it up to her, and she never mentioned it, so he was just confused.

Clayton Webb stayed underground to hide from the CIA sweepers that had been dispatched to eliminate him. He showed up once in a while to check on Harm's condition and to retrieve information from Mac, which she was compiling for him. She also provided him supplies to stay on the run. Clay had never realized that he had friends that would go to such extremes for him.

Several days after Harm's release from the hospital, he and Mac were napping comfortably together on the couch when Arnold Rucker entered the apartment. He searched looking for the evidence that he was sure Mac was hiding to protect Webb, or that's what he told her when he accidentally woke them.

He once again determined to rid himself of JAG officers, but was stopped just short of the deed by Webb's entry, through a window.

Clay fired two rounds into the center of Rucker's chest. There was no doubt this time that he was dead.

TWO WEEKS LATER


On his first day back at work, Harm stood in the bullpen accepting the congratulations of JAG staffers.

Clayton Webb entered the room and crossed to hand something to Mac. She opened the folder and smiled. Admiral Chegwidden asked her what was going on between her and Webb.

"Clay finally got those computer codes from the Pentagon records analyzed, Sir."

"And?" Harm perked up.

"And," Clay began, "they prove, conclusively, that Rucker was in a partnership deal with Hampton. It may even implicate Rucker strongly enough to get Hampton a plea bargain deal at his court-martial."

"I don't know if I'll be in that generous a mood." Chimed in Carolyn Imes, the prosecutor.

"At any rate, though." Mac concluded, "It clears Webb of all suspicion, so he can come out of hiding and go back to work."

"Excellent." Harm offered, as he shook Clay's hand.

Admiral Chegwidden cleared his throat and said, "So, everything's back to normal around here?"

Harm looked at Mac for his cue.

She said, "Yes, Sir, everything's exactly as it was before this started."

Harm's heart sank. How could she say that? How could she think that? He knew that nothing between the two of them would ever be the same to him again.

He glanced up at Mac just in time to see her wink at him.