Nothing Left Unsaid

Wanda Glasshoff

Disclaimer:

The characters aren't mine. I'm just respectfully using them for some fun, not for profit.

Spoilers:

Anything through mid season seven.

Story starts on the next page:

NOTHING LEFT UNSAID

2230 Friday local time Persian Gulf

Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. stepped onto the metal decking of Vulture's Row. A stiff breeze, the combination of the wind the ship headed into and its forward speed, carried the smell of jet fuel and the roar of powerful jet engines to the pilot starved for the excitement of life on a carrier. The thump of the catapult preceded another screaming jet as it hurled across the deck and climbed steeply away from the ship into the starry sky. God, how I miss being part of the action, he thought.

Being a naval aviator like his father was all he'd ever dreamt of and he'd made those dreams come true until the ramp strike that ended his flying career. He'd been cleared of any blame by a board of inquiry when he was diagnosed with night blindness, but he'd felt like it was the end of his world. After spending his time convalescing with his grandmother, he decided to stay in the Navy, and he'd made a good career at JAG. But the move to law had been forced upon him by circumstances beyond his control. Almost three years ago another doctor discovered that he'd been misdiagnosed and his problem was treatable. Even though it was a risky surgery, Harm decided to try it. The operation was successful and he was cleared to fly at night. Against everyone's advice, he changed his designator and went back to active flight status. That was when he realized how much he'd grown to love the law and investigation. It had still been hard to walk away from life as a fighter pilot, but he knew his future was at JAG and he'd returned with
renewed commitment to the job he'd grown to love as much as flying.

In his six months with the air command, he'd proven to himself that he was a worthy successor to his father, even earning another DFC. He'd never give up flying all together, and everyone in the Navy understood his desire to maintain his flight qualification. As he watched the jets take flight, he couldn't help but wish that he could fly their mission with them. A part of him would always be up there. The words to a poem that he'd
memorized years earlier in junior high school ran through his mind:

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds . . .and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of. . .wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air.

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, or even eagle flew.

And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

(John Gilespie Magee, Jr. - Royal Canadian Air Force)

How could anyone be a fighter pilot and not miss it? There is nothing like
flying F-14 Tomcats!

While he knew that Mac now understood how he felt about flying, that wasn't always true. He remembered the look in her eyes back forever ago, (Was it really only four years?) on the Coral Sea when she'd discovered his skill as a pilot. She'd silently stepped onto the bridge and observed him as he listened to a pilot in trouble during an encounter with a MiG. He'd stood there listening and verbally calling the shots perfectly. He could picture the amazement and pride in the look she gave him.

"You were really good, weren't you," she'd stated, not asked.

"I still am, Mac," he'd answered.

Mac had tried to warn him hat he couldn't go back, that the law was his life, but he hadn't listened. Hell! He needed to go back - - to find himself. To fill the void that had threatened to swallow him after he'd reached the end of his nearly twenty year quest for his father.

He'd been back at JAG for over two years now and his brush with death in the Atlantic Ocean last spring had made him reevaluate his priorities. All he'd thought about while fighting the wind and waves was Mac. He'd been overwhelmed with grief that she'd never know how much he loved her. That he'd blown it back in Sydney, driven her into Brumby's arms. I was such a fool, he chided himself. And he'd been terrified, not of death, but of what Mac and his mother would both go through if his body wasn't found. He didn't want them to have to suffer the same way he had over his father's fate.

But Mac's mysterious visions had narrowed the search from 1,800 square miles to a few hundred feet, leading the search right to him. If not for Mac, he would have died. It had been close the way it was. By the time they got him to the carrier he was already slipping away. Without Skates coming to sick bay and calling him back, he probably would not have had the will to fight.

"Penny for your thoughts, Commander."

He hadn't heard Admiral Boone approach and wondered how long he'd been standing there.

"Just wishing I hadn't lost so much time. I really wanted all this for my career," Harm answered wistfully, gazing at the bustle of the flight deck.

"Do you remember that first time we met in the line of duty?" Admiral Boone asked.

"Yeah, you thought I didn't belong on a carrier. I even heard you said it was a pity I couldn't fly like my dad," Harm answered ruefully.

"And you proved how wrong I was when you saved my six. I've always been grateful that I let you take that ride."

Harm laughed.

"Harm, you're one of the best pilots I've ever seen. At least as good as your Dad. No, don't interrupt. . ." he stated firmly as Harm started to protest. "I've no doubt that your father is incredibly proud of you. I'm sure he's been with you every step of the way, protecting you in all the life and death situations you manage to get into."

Harm chuckled, "He's probably getting a little weary then."

"You said it!" Admiral Boone joined in his laughter then turned serious. "Harm, Clayton Webb is one of your friends isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. Clay's been a pain in the neck at times, gotten Mac and me into more scrapes than I can count, but also saved our sixes more than once too. I never know what he's going to get me into, but we respect each other."

"Harm, I hate to tell you this, Clay has been captured by Al Queda terrorists. They are going to execute him in 24 hours." Admiral Boone stared out over the rolling ocean.

"No, we have to do something. We need men like Clay in this war!" Harm protested.

"The President has given permission for a rescue attempt, but we need to use all volunteers. We'll be flying into Iran, a country that has refused us permission for military operations, even this rescue mission, saying there is no proof that terrorist camps exist within their borders. Since Clay was there covertly, there is no record of his entering the
country."

"Do you have a plan?" Harm asked.

"According to the CIA operatives in Iran, Clay was captured in a highly fortified area in the southwestern mountains. Intel said Clay's injuries are severe. We have a group of SEALS who will be airlifted in to rescue Clay. We'll use Sea Hawks, but we'll need fighters to take out the terrorist camp once Clay is secured and protect the choppers from enemy fighters and missiles on their way back out."

"Admiral, I'd like to volunteer to fly this mission. Clay's my friend. He managed to get my brother out of Chechnya and into the United States. I owe him." Harm looked Tom Boone in the eyes, "You once told me how you felt about not being able to stay with my Dad. Please let me go after my friend."

"Harm, you haven't flown combat for a while and this mission could get dangerous. Are you up for it?"

"You know better than to ask a Navy pilot a question like that! I was born ready!" he chuckled. "Seriously, you just said I was a good pilot."

"I'm going in with the Sea Hawks. There's no one I'd rather have covering my six! I'd be glad to have you. Are you willing to fly solo? We don't have many available people with the missions we're already flying. Keeter would be your wing man."

"I'd love the chance to fly with Jack again. Ready whenever you are Admiral!" Harm couldn't keep the smile out of his voice. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity for one more combat mission, sir!"

"Better go get some rest, son. We go in a few hours."

"Yes, sir." Harm saluted and headed below deck. He wanted to write a few letters and record a couple of letter tapes, just in case. He didn't want to leave anything unsaid. Harm thought of the diamond ring sitting in his desk at home. He'd purchased it months ago. We've been through so much over the past six years. I don't want to waste any more time. When I get home Mac . . . when I get home!

The previous day, Thursday 1610 Local time JAG Headquarters, DC
(0010 Local Time Friday Persian Gulf)

Mac swung by Harm's office on her way back from court. Still no sign of him. She hadn't seen him all day. In fact, she hadn't seen or heard from him since they'd had breakfast early Wednesday, before she'd left for Norfolk to take depositions in the case she was prosecuting. What is he up to? she wondered.

Mac changed directions and approached Tiner. "Is the Admiral free?"

"I'll check, Colonel." Tiner dialed and spoke briefly. "You can go right in."

"Thank you, Tiner," Mac smiled at him as she opened the door and stepped into the office, saluting her commanding officer.

"At ease, Colonel. What can I do for you?" Admiral Chegwidden asked, knowing full well what was coming.

"Sir, I haven't seen Commander Rabb all day. Is he out of town on an assignment?" Mac asked tentatively.

Damn you, Rabb! The least you could have done was leave her a message, A.J. thought. "By now, Commander Rabb is on a carrier in the Persian Gulf. Admiral Boone is on board observing how our forces are holding up in the war on terrorism, and there was a minor accident to investigate, so Harm begged for the assignment and a chance to get out to the carrier, see the Admiral, and observe the action. He was between cases, so I decided to humor him. He should be back in a few days."

"Thank you, Admiral. I'm sorry to bother you. I just had a case I wanted to discuss with him."

Her hesitation told him more than words could have about her real reasons for the inquiry. "Mac, sit down," A.J. spoke softly. "We need to talk."

Sarah Mackenzie sat down slowly, wondering what he wanted. "Admiral?" she asked hesitantly.

"Colonel, may I speak freely. . .as your friend?"

"Yes, sir," she replied softly.

"Mac, I saw how Harm's accident last spring affected you. I know you feel strongly for him. . . Do you love him?" he asked gently.

Mac's eyes flew to his; she started to deny it, but stopped. "Yes, sir," her voice was a mere whisper.

"Mac, I don't know what has happened between the two of you during the past year, but I know how worried Harm was during the embassy siege, and I've seen the way he's always looked at you, ever since that first day in The Rose Garden. I'm pretty sure he feels the same way you do." He shook his head. "Mac, work it out when he gets back. It's time."

"Aye, sir," she said with a watery smile which A. J. returned. "Thank you, sir." She stood at attention.

"Dismissed, Colonel."

Mac saluted and returned to her own office wondering, What prompted the Admiral to get so personal? She worked for several more hours beforereturning home.

Thursday, 1945 Mac's apartment Georgetown

Mac picked up her mail and unlocked her apartment door. She sank onto the couch and flipped through the envelopes, her mind not really registering what she was looking at until her eyes fixed on familiar handwriting. She tore open the envelope, postmarked the previous day.

Mac,

I'm sorry I left before you got back from Norfolk, but I had a chance to handle a quick accident investigation on a carrier. You know how much I enjoy getting on a flight deck. Beside, Tom Boone is out there right now and maybe I can hook a ride on one of the missions.

Mac, there is so much we still need to talk about. I think it's time, don't you? When I get home, we're going to have that conversation we've been putting off. No excuses. This should only take a few days, but I hate leaving Sergei. He's still getting acquainted with the city. Check on him for me. See you soon.

Semper Fi, Mac

Harm

Mac smiled as she read Harm's letter. She could almost hear the boyish wonder that always crept into his voice when he spoke about flying. She could imagine how his eyes lit up when he got permission to fly out to the carrier.

She was both thrilled and terrified about having their long overdue talk. What if he doesn't feel the same way I do? she wondered.

Mac heard the phone and grabbed it on the first ring, "Hello."

"Mac, it's Sergei. How about joining me for a large 'meat lovers' pizza?" He sounded hopeful and, except for wanting meat pizza, so like Harm.

"Sounds great. I'll be over in about an hour." Mac hung up the phone and headed for the bedroom to change out of her uniform. I wonder if Harm asked him to look after me? she mused.

Pizza and an evening at Harm's apartment with his brother were just what the doctor ordered. Sergei had pumped her for stories about Harm and she'd willingly obliged, sharing their encounters with poachers, drug dealers, and Russian MiGs. Sarah enjoyed visiting with Sergei. He'd been good for Harm, who seemed happier than ever with his brother safe in America. Finally, it was time to head home.

"Take care, Sarah. Harm will be home soon," Sergei told her.

Sarah gave into her curiosity and asked, "Did Harm give you orders to take care of me?" she asked.

"Yes, but if you tell him I told you, I'll deny it," Sergei laughed as Sarah shook her head in exasperation at Harm's protectiveness.

Friday, 1430 JAG Headquarters

"Colonel, Admiral Chegwidden would like to see you in his office." Mac looked up at Lt. Simms who was filling in for Tiner.

Mac stood, wondering what was up this late on a Friday.

"Colonel Mackenzie reporting, sir," she stood at attention before her CO.

"At ease. Sit down, Mac." A.J. stood behind his desk looking a million miles away.

Sarah sat down, her eyes never leaving the Admiral. She could tell he was forcing himself to remain detached, giving her an uneasy feeling. "I just received some information that needs to stay between the two of us."

The stormy look in the Admiral's eyes scared her, "Yes, sir. Sir, nothing has happened to Commander Rabb?" she couldn't keep the concern out of her voice.

"No, it's Clayton Webb. A terrorist cell has captured him and they have informed the President that he will be executed in approximately 24 hours if we don't release the prisoners we're holding at Guantanamo Bay. I know that you've had your differences with Clay, but you and the Commander seem to be among the few friends that Clay has. We both know that the media will eventually get the story; I thought you should know before it breaks."

"Thank you, sir. Do you think Harm knows?" Sarah knew that Harm would be devastated if Clay were killed. They had become closer over the years, especially in the past few months since Clay had rescued Sergei from Chechnya.

"I assume so, Colonel. We're weighing our options and if a rescue effort is attempted, it will be conducted from the carrier that Harm is onboard." The Admiral saw the emotion that flickered in Mac's eyes. Only someone who knew her well would have caught it. The tough Marine was terrified that something would happen to the Commander. "Mac, he'll be okay."

Sarah tried to maintain her Marine facade, but the gentle tone of his voice and her fear for Harm were making it darn hard.

"Mac, Harm isn't assigned to the fleet. He might even be on his way home already."

"You don't believe that, Admiral. You know Harm! If there is a rescue mission, he'll find some way to be a part of it."

"Colonel, Harm is an exceptionally good pilot. He can handle himself on the ground or in the air with the best the Navy and Marines have to offer. Hell, he's even taken part in black ops with Seals! Even if he goes in, Harm will come back. Don't let yourself think anything else."

"Thank you, sir," she smiled weakly as she stood. She needed to be alone. She didn't know how much longer she could hold her composure.

"Dismissed, Colonel."

Mac saluted and turned to leave, but the Admiral's voice stopped her. "Mac, if Harm calls you, let me know. I care about him too."

"Yes, sir." Sarah Mackenzie walked slowly through the Admiral's door, across the bullpen to her own office, and shut her door behind her. By the time she reached her desk, tears flowed freely down her face. She slumped into her chair and stared at the recent photo of Harm and herself next to his corvette on Christmas Day.

"Oh God, Harm. Why didn't I just take the chance that you feel the same way I do and tell you how much I love you? Don't leave me, Flyboy. Come back to me, please!" Mac prayed.

Friday, 1800 DC Sarah's apartment Georgetown

Sarah Mackenzie unlocked the door to her apartment, walked in and tossed her briefcase on a chair. She dropped onto the couch and stared out the window deep in thought. I'm exhausted. I lost my case this morning, but it's insignificant compared to finding out that Clay is going to be executed. There is no way that Harm will sit by and do nothing, even if he has to steal a plane and go in alone. Harm, I need you. Even if all we're doing is arguing legal point in a case, just hearing your voice lifts my spirits. Your smile brightens my cloudiest days.

Sarah's head throbbed with tension. She decided to take a shower and lie down for a few minutes, then make something light for dinner. Once out of the shower, she lay on the bed and gazed at the picture of Harm on her nightstand. He was seated in Sarah, his baseball cap on backwards and that huge flyboy grin lighting up his face. She loved the picture because Harm looked especially handsome and sexy, and that particular smile had been
directed at her. Warm memories of happy times with Harm relaxed her, and she drifted off to sleep.

Friday, 2000 local time DC; Sarah's Apartment, Georgetown

"Sarah!"

Sarah jerked awake with a scream. In her dark bedroom, she could still envision the ball of flame from her dream - the ball of flame where seconds before there'd been an F-14. "No! It's not possible! It's just a horrible dream!" she told herself, but she couldn't make the vision go away. Sarah raced to the bathroom and sank down next to the commode as waves of nausea engulfed her. She lost track of how long she sat there. Finally, so
weak that she had to pull herself up, Sarah splashed her face with water and stumbled back to the bedroom. She checked her bedside table for her address book and dialed the Admiral who answered after the first ring.

"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you," she stammered through the catch in her throat.

"What is it, Colonel?" A.J. Chegwidden asked, concern for her evident in his voice.

"Sir, do you have any way of reaching Harm? I need to know he's safe." Mac knew she was being unprofessional, but right now, she didn't care. The image of the exploding plane and Harm's scream wouldn't go away.

"Mac, the carrier is running a lot of missions, I don't know if I can get through."

"Oh God!" Mac barely breathed, but A.J. heard her.

"Mac, why the sudden concern?" he asked softly, afraid to hear her answer.

"I was taking a nap and had a nightmare, Admiral," she said shakily. "It has to be just a nightmare!" she mumbled softly to herself.

"Mac?" That single word echoed his anxiety.

"I saw an F-14 explode. Admiral, I heard Harm scream my name." Colonel Sarah Mackenzie broke down in sobs on her end of the line.

"Sarah, I'll be right over. Try to stay calm," A.J. told her. After hanging up, he called Harriet and asked her to meet him at Mac's apartment. Then he called the Secnav to find out if a rescue mission was under way. The Secnav confirmed that there was and that Commander Rabb was a part of the team. "Sir, please patch a message through to Harm that I need him to call me as soon as he is able. I want to know immediately if you receive word that anything has happened to Commander Rabb." After receiving the Secnav's
assurance that he would be contacted, AJ drove to Mac's apartment. He and Lt. Simms pulled up at the same time.

"Thank you for coming, Harriet. Sarah needs our support. She had a nightmare about Harm. Unfortunately, when Sarah has a nightmare, you can't be sure it isn't her second sight. I've never heard her so upset, even when Commander Rabb was lost at sea last year."

"Admiral, you know I'll do whatever I can for the Colonel." She shook her head, "Life would be a lot easier for the rest of us if those two worked out their relationship." The Admiral nodded his agreement. "I'm afraid loosing Harm would destroy Sarah," Harriet continued sadly. They reached Sarah's apartment and Harriet knocked softly. "Colonel, it's Harriet and Admiral Chegwidden," she called.

Mac, dressed in one of Harm's Navy tee shirts and blue boxers, opened the door to let them enter. Her hair was tousled from sleep, but still attractive in her simple cut. It was her tear stained face that raised concern in her friends. Mac had been through enough grief for several lifetimes in the few years they'd known her, but neither of them had ever
seen her this emotionally ravaged.

"Mac, I've talked to the Secnav. He'll try to get a message to Harm to contact us ASAP."

"Admiral, I can't get the vision of that jet exploding out of my mind," Sarah's words broke as tears erupted again.

"Colonel, you have to pull yourself together. Where is the tough Marine we all know and love?" A.J. Chegwidden was worried. He'd never seen Sarah Mackenzie like this. She was usually so calm, even in a crisis.

"Sarah, we don't know that anything is wrong. This could just be a nightmare. This is Harm we're talking about. He's resourceful. Even if there was an accident, he's a survivor." Harriet Simms tried to reassure her.

"I want to believe that," Mac answered softly.

A ringing phone startled all of them. A.J. reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "Chegwidden, here," he answered, walking to the window and staring into the darkness. The silence in the room was deafening as the Admiral listened to the person on the other end of the line. "Yes, sir. I understand. Thank you." A.J. clicked off the phone and returned to Sarah who sat on the couch with Harriet.

One look at his face, and Sarah knew the worst. "Oh God, No!" she sobbed.

A.J. sat down on the other side of Mac and took her in his arms. "Sarah, I'm sorry. It isn't good." He looked into her eyes, but had to turn away, they contained so much pain. "A SEAL assault team was sent in to rescue Clay after all diplomatic efforts with the Iranian government to intervene failed. They were dropped a few miles from the terrorist camp
where Webb was being held. They achieved surprise and secured Clayton. Then Commanders Rabb and Keeter attacked and destroyed the camp. Once that was accomplished, the Sea Hawk helicopters went back in to extract Clay and the SEALS. Harm and Keeter flew cover for the Sea Hawks. Keeter's plane was hit by fire from another terrorist base before Harm swooped in and destroyed it. Since Keeter's plane was loosing fuel badly, Harm ordered him out of hostile territory, then stayed alone to cover the Sea Hawks. Before they were out of Iranian air space, three MiGs attacked them. We're not sure whose planes they were or where they were launched. Harm used his counter measures and remaining missiles to successfully avoid two of the MiGs and shoot them down. Out of both countermeasures and missiles, he ordered the helicopters to stay on coarse for the carrier and he went after the final MiG. He reported hitting the MiG with cannon fire seconds after the MiG locked on and fired a missile at him. Harm's fighter was on radar one second, gone the next. We know that the MiG went down too. No one else was left in the area to see if Harm ejected. There was no distress signal or communication from Harm after the explosion. More planes arrived within ten minutes It was still dark; they didn't see any sign of the Commander."

The Admiral, who'd stared straight ahead during his narrative, glanced at Mac. Tears streamed down her face, but she was otherwise perfectly still, no other sign of the emotional turmoil she was under. That worried the Admiral more than hysterics.

"Mac, Harm's listed as MIA. They're sending photo recon in to take another look at the wreckage, but the chances of finding him alive appear slim."

"Harm's mother?" Mac choked out. "A Navy chaplain was sent right away. and Tom Boone called her when he reached the carrier. I can't even imagine how hard this will be for Mrs. Burnett. Tom feels responsible since he arranged for Harm to join the
mission."

"What about Clay?" Mac asked softly.

"He's beat up, but he'll survive," A.J. told her.

"Good, Harm would hate it if his dea. . . if this was all for nothing." Mac wiped tears from her eyes. Her detached control scared A.J.

"Harriet, can you stay with Sarah? I want to go to my office and monitor the situation," A.J. requested..

"Of course, Admiral," Lt. Simms answered.

"Admiral, I'll be fine. I don't need anyone to watch over me. Has anyone told Sergei?" Sarah asked suddenly.

"I don't believe so. I can stop by Harm's apartment to do it." A.J. answered softly.

"No, I'll do it. You can both go on home," Sarah's voice was emotionless.

"Colonel. Are you sure you're up to that?" A.J. inquired.

"Admiral, I need to do this. Harm would want me to tell him," Sarah insisted.

"Okay, Mac. Contact me if you need anything."

"Yes, sir." Sarah showed them both out, then sank down against the door, pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them tightly. Her head dropped to her knees, and she gave in to her grief.

"Harm, why did we waste all this time? You did love me, didn't you?" Mac mourned what might have been, the children they might have had, that she'd never know what it felt like to make love to her soul mate.

2300 local time Friday DC - Harm's Apartment

Sarah knocked softly on the door of Harm's apartment. How am I going to tell Sergei his brother is gone?

Sergei opened the door, surprised to see Sarah. "Hi, why are you out so late?" he started cheerfully, then stopped at the look of pain on her face. "Sarah, come in. What is wrong?"

Sarah broke into tears when he put his arms around her. He led her to the couch, sat down and pulled her against him. His own heart raced, realizing that something devastating had happened. Not Harm, he worried.

Sergei murmured softly in Russian and stroked Sarah's hair while cradling her head against his shoulder. Gradually, Sarah's tears subsided, but she stayed in the comforting embrace of Harm's little brother.

"Sergei, Harm took part in a mission to rescue Clayton Webb who was being held by a terrorist cell. Harm's plane was shot down a few hours ago." She felt his arms tighten around her. "They don't know for sure, but they think he was still aboard when it exploded." Her voice broke and the tears started again. Sergei laid his head against hers and held her tightly, his own escaping tears dampened her dark hair. Gradually, Sarah told him everything she knew.

"Sarah, have hope. One thing I have learned about my brother; he's a survivor." Sergei brushed tears from Sarah's cheek.

"I hope you're right. Neither of us has had enough time with him," she answered sadly.

Sergei studied her for a moment, "You're in love with him, aren't you," he stated rather than asked.

Sarah nodded, the lump in her throat preventing her from speaking.

"Why aren't you together then?" He kicked himself for the insensitivity of voicing the question that had plagued him since their first meeting several years earlier in Russia.

"I don't know if he feels the same way," she murmured.

"Oh, Sarah, I don't know my brother as well as I hope to, but I can see how he looks at you!" Sergei said with conviction.

Sarah smiled at him sadly. "I hope I get the chance to tell him how I feel."

"Sarah, you need to rest. You're emotionally exhausted and there's nothing we can do until we hear more from the Navy. Come on, you're going to get some sleep." Sergei helped her up and led her to Harm's bed. She sat down on its edge and ran her hand over his pillow while Sergei pulled one of Harm's shirts out of the closet. "Here, Sarah. Put this on and then try to get some rest."

"Thank you, Sergei. You know, you're a lot like Harm."

Sergei smiled and nodded, then walked back down to the hide-a-bed in the living room.

Sarah changed in the bathroom and checked the vanity for a spare toothbrush. She knew Harm always kept a few new ones around. She'd had occasion to use them more than once over the years when they were working long hours on a case. She brushed her teeth and washed her face.

Sarah pulled back the covers on Harm's bed and crawled in. She scanned the room, her gaze froze on the photographs sitting on the bookcase across the room. Three of them were familiar, she's seen them on other visits to Harm's apartment: Trish and Frank; Harm's grandmother, Sarah; and his father's military portrait from the Naval Academy. Two new pictures had joined them: Harm and Sergei by Sarah's Christmas tree, and a picture of her. She crawled out of bed, crossed the room, and picked up the photograph.
She recognized the occasion instantly, but she'd been unaware that Harm had taken the picture. She smiled, remembering the glorious autumn day. Harm had suggested the outing. He'd offered to baby-sit little A.J so Bud and Harriet could get away for a weekend. He'd called her to see if she wanted to go to the park with them. The day had been unseasonably warm and the leaves unbelievably beautiful: gold, orange, red, and even some that were almost mauve. They gathered up piles of leaves, then A.J would jump in them and throw them into the air. She and Harm had each done their share of romping in the leaves with their godson. The close-up of herself that she held in her hands was happy and carefree. Leaves floated down all around her. Her smile was radiant and her eyes sparkling and full of joy. Harm had enlarged it to an 8X10 and displayed it with his family photos, across from his bed. Tears filled Sarah's eyes. "Harm," she sighed, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sarah returned the picture to the shelf and crawled back into Harm's bed. She lay down on the pillow and pulled the covers up around her. Harm's scent filled her nostrils and gentle tears coursed down her cheeks as she reached over and shut off the light.

1000 Saturday Persian Gulf (0200 DC time)

Tom Boone watched the recon planes land. He already knew the results of the mission: There had been no sign of life in the mountainous terrain where Harm's plane had gone down. Debris had been scattered over a large area. No distress call or homing beacon had been detected, and they had not found any wreckage large enough to hold a body. All evidence seemed to indicate that Harm was killed when the plane exploded.

"Admiral," Commander Keeter made his presence known. "I feel responsible. If I had reacted quicker, been able to avoid that hit from ground fire, I'd have been there to help Harm."

"Son, no one's at fault. We're at war. We were all just doing our jobs. Harm would never blame you and would kick your six for even thinking that way! - - - But that doesn't mean we won't all live with the 'what if's' for the rest of our lives." He shook his head. "I've lived with my own about Harm's dad back in 'Nam."

"Yes, sir," Jack Keeter answered. "Sir, will he at least be recognized for what he did?"

Admiral Boone nodded sadly. A Navy Cross at the least, Congressional Medal if I have anything to say about it. He could have made it out of there, could have ejected when the MiG fired the final missile, but he stayed on that MiG putting himself in harm's way to make sure that it didn't come after the Sea Hawks."

"That's who he was, always laying it on the line for others," Keeter stated matter of factly. "Thank you, Sir," Keeter saluted and left the Admiral alone to his thoughts.

Tom Boone looked up at the clear blue sky and whispered, "God's speed son. I hope you and your dad finally get to know each other." He shook his head. A.J and Trish will never forgive me, and Colonel Mackenzie will have one more reason to hate me, he thought sadly as he headed to his stateroom to get a few hours sleep and then at a more appropriate hour stateside, make more phone calls.

1100 Saturday Mountains, somewhere in Iran (0300 DC)

"Mac! Mac!" The sound of his own voice brought Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. around. He was sure his eyes were open, but he couldn't see anything. Panic gripped him as he reached out into the blackness. His hands touched cold, hard rock. The movement caused him to wince in pain, but he quickly reached in other directions - - -more rock! Where am I? he wondered, then he remembered the MiGs. He knew the final MiG had fired a missile. What happened? His head hurt like hell, but he forced himself to think back . . .

It had felt so good to be back in action, his adrenaline pumping, and his heart racing. The rescue team took off first, and was dropped a few miles from the terrorist camp. A CIA operative met them and led them directly to the building where Clay was being held. Along with Keeter, Harm launched on schedule to be over the area forty-five minutes later. The plan worked perfectly. The SEAL team secured and painted the target for the
Tomcat's attack. Two laser-guided bombs had destroyed the complex. The Sea
Hawks quickly moved in to pick up the American team and they headed back out
of Iran toward International territory.

As Harm and Keeter circled the area, fire from another site struck Keeter's Tomcat causing him control problems and his plane to loose fuel. Harm remembered ordering Jack back to the carrier, "Get out of here! I don't want to worry about another friend in trouble down there. The Navy wouldn't appreciate them getting their hands on your aircraft either. I can baby-sit the helicopters till we get back over international waters."

"Commander, a couple more Tomcats are heading your way. ETA about fifteen minutes," Air Operations reported.

"Roger," Harm responded.

"See you on the deck," Keeter told him as he peeled off and headed back to the carrier.

Now forewarned, Harm took a pass through the hostile valley and when the terrorists opened fire, he hit them with one of his missiles. "Smoked the guns," he reported.

Harm headed after the helicopters and suddenly spotted three MiGs on his radar. They were headed directly for the Sea Hawks. He wasn't sure if they'd detected him yet.

"Sea Hawks, we're getting company. Three MiGs inbound at four o'clock. Stay on your heading for the ship. I'll intercept and keep them busy. God's speed."

"Hammer, you've only got one missile left and you're outnumbered three to one," Admiral Boone responded.

"Aye, sir. We don't have any choice. You can't outrun them and the other birds won't be here fast enough. I'll just have to take a couple of them out with cannon fire. I know someone else who used to do that even though he had available missiles."

"On the deck, Commander," Admiral Boone signed off.

One of the MiGs locked on a Sea Hawk and fired just as Harm loosed a missile on him. Harm raced in at an angle and flew between the inbound missile and the helicopter, drawing the heat-seeking missile away from the bird. By using flares, a quick roll to the right, and a steep climb, he managed to avoid the missile. He'd seen the first MiG explode in a direct hit, and came up firing his cannon at the second MiG, scoring another hit.
The bird went down spewing smoke and flame, its crew ejecting to safety.

Harm knew the instant the final MiG locked on him and fired. He deployed his counter measures and pulled up in a steep climb, then rolled quickly away from the path of the incoming missile. It was close, but he avoided it.

The MiG still had a least one missile, and Harm knew the other planes wouldn't be there in time to either help him or keep it off of the Sea Hawks. He circled back for the last MiG. Just as Harm was maneuvering into position to fire his cannons, he heard the warning signaling that the MiG had missile lock on him. He stayed on course despite the missile now headed his way. Harm didn't have any defensive measures left and the
missile was closing in, but he didn't have any choice. He coolly made the necessary moves and fired his cannon. He saw the canopy of the MiG explode and the plane spiral out of control.

Harm flinched, he didn't remember triggering his ejection, only the thrust as he hurled through the air, and the heat of his aircraft exploding beneath him. He remembered screaming Sarah's name when he thought the fireball that had been his Tomcat might engulf him. Miraculously it hadn't.

But where am I now? he wondered. His head throbbed. He touched it and felt a bandage, sticky with blood. A bandage. . .Where did that come from? Is the Navy looking for me?

Suddenly, Harm heard the muffled sound of footsteps and froze. They sounded only inches away. He reached for his service revolver and realized it was gone.

"Commander, Rabb" he heard a voice call softly. "I'm a friend."

He's speaking English! Harm thought, then heard a grating sound and light leaked in around the edge of a large slab of rock that was gradually moving. Harm tried to lever his body to defend himself, but a sharp pain in his side almost caused him to cry out. The rock was lowered, and an individual in traditional Muslim attire was peering in at him.

"Commander, I'm glad to see that you've regained consciousness. I was worried about you. He extended a hand and helped Harm out of the cleft in the rock.

Harm grimaced in pain and sat down. He looked around. They were on a ledge under an outcropping. They wouldn't be visible from any distance away. "How did I end up in that little 'rabbit hole'?" Harm asked, still wary of the stranger.

"I hid you there. I did not want any of the fundamentalist soldiers in the area to get their hands on you. It would not have been pleasant, and my good friend, Clayton Webb, would have been most unhappy."

"Clay!" Harm smiled, "You work for Webb. Well . . .how are we going to keep me from ending up at the end of a rope or in front of a firing squad?" Harm knew his situation was serious, quite aware that he was deep in hostile territory. He was in danger not only from Al Queda terrorists, but also from a government with less than friendly relations with his own. They had flown into Iran's airspace despite being denied permission.

"First, I'll wrap your chest to make it easier for you to move. I'm pretty sure you have some broken ribs." He continued to talk as he worked, quickly applying a binding to protect the injured area, "Do you remember what happened after you ejected?"

"No, not really. Only a fireball."

"I'm part of a network that Clay has put together in Iran to gather information about fundamentalist activities. I knew of his capture, but wasn't part of the rescue mission. I was heading into the mountains on my normal business, when I saw your aerial battle. I observed your parachute in the glow of the explosion and knew that if I'd seen it, so might others. The debris from your plane must have damaged your chute because your descent was erratic. You hit a rock ledge and must have blacked out. I found you unconscious and carried you up here. I quickly wrapped your head wound to staunch the flow of blood and hid you behind that rock. I knew I needed to make it look like you'd been killed, or the enemy might have started a thorough enough search to find you or stuck around long enough that you'd find your way out of there and stumble into them."

The man finished binding Harm's ribs and started to unwrap the bandage around his head. "I'll change the dressing on that cut. It's still bleeding and could use some stitches, but a butterfly bandage will have to suffice for now." Once again he worked quickly and efficiently. Harm, still woozy from the crash, sat quietly and let him take care of the injury.

"We need to get you out of Iran before you're discovered. I destroyed your radio and homing beacon, which would have led the opposition to you before your people could have arrived. Then I erased the evidence that you'd survived the crash. I'll need to make contact with others in our network in order to let your people know that you're alive. There are safer ways to get you out of the country than trying another military exercise."
He finished administering first aid and pulled a white robe, similar to his own, from his backpack. "Put this on over your flight suit. You won't be so obvious from a distance." He helped Harm slide into the clothing.

"We'll need to get off this mountain and a little further from the crash site immediately, but it will be safer if we wait until nightfall before traveling any real distance. By the way, my name is Sam."

"Harm. Where did you learn such good English?' he asked, curious about his companion.

"Boston," the man in his early thirties responded. "I was born here and my grandparents still live here, but I grew up in the States. My father is a professor of mathematics at MIT and I have a degree from Harvard."

"You being here to cover my six must mean that my time's not up today, but I'd rather not tempt fate. Let's get moving," Harm suggested.

Sam helped Harm to his feet and handed him his service revolver. "I didn't want you shooting me when I came back for you," he explained.

"You were pretty good at patching me up," Harm commented as they started along the path off the mountain.

"I'm a doctor. I came back to Iran to help the country people. I've seen the poverty on my visits to my grandparents. Then I met Clay and he convinced me that I could help both the peace-loving Iranian people and the United States by working for him against the terrorists and government extremists who call the shots here and elsewhere. I'm a U.S. citizen, but that is hidden so that I can continue to use my Iranian passport and move
about freely."

"You're in a pretty dangerous business," Harm commented.

"I'm not the one that just had a plane blow up around me!" Sam laughed.

"You have a point," Harm smiled at him. He liked this young idealist and patriot.

The two men grew silent as they scanned the rough terrain around them for signs of life, then moved on along the path through the rocky terrain.

0600 Saturday local time DC Harm's apartment (1400 Iran)

Sergei quietly let himself in from an early morning run. He hadn't been able to sleep and had used the long brisk run to relieve his stress. He couldn't bring himself to believe that his brother was dead. It had to be a mistake.

Sergei crept towards Harm's bedroom to check on Sarah. She looked like an angel lying in the bed, her arms embracing the pillow on which her cheek rested. Sarah sighed contentedly and a hint of a smile touched her lips. Sergei backed out of the room quietly. "Sweet dreams," he whispered.

Sarah lay her cheek against Harm's shoulder and rested her hand on his chest. His spicy male scent and the arm around her shoulder brought a sense of peace and safety she'd never experienced before. "Thank you for giving me such a handsome son and adorable daughter," he whispered before kissing her.

The ringing phone intruded on her dream and Sarah's eyes flew open. The events of the previous night washed over her, leaving her cold and scared. She sat up, the pillow clutched to her breast.

Sergei answered the phone, "Rabb residence." He glanced toward the bedroom and met Sarah's terrified gaze. "Yes, Admiral. Sarah told me. . . . Sarah is here, sir. I didn't want her to be alone last night. . . .Yes, we'll both wait for you here." Sergei hung up the phone. "Admiral Chegwidden is on his way over. He wants to talk to both of us. I'll make some coffee while you dress."

Sarah nodded wordlessly and laid her head against Harm's pillow, inhaling his familiar scent. "God, please don't take Harm away from me," she whispered. Then she buried her face in the pillow and let the tears come.

Sergei could hear Sarah's muffled sobs. He let her cry, knowing she needed that release. When the coffee was made, he went to her. "Sarah?"

She looked up and met his compassionate gaze. She saw the same dread reflected in his eyes that was squeezing her heart.

"Sarah, the Admiral will be here soon," he reminded her.

"I'll be ready." She put down the pillow, climbed from the bed, and grabbed her clothes.

Sergei silently returned to the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, Sarah had showered and dressed in her jeans and sweater from the previous night. Sergei thought her damp hair looked fresh and attractive. Sarah heard a light knock on the door as she descended the few steps from the bedroom and opened it. "Admiral, come in."

"Coffee, Admiral?" Sergei asked from the kitchen counter.

"No, thank you." A.J. Chegwidden sank down on one of the chairs in the living room.

He's aged ten years over night, Sarah thought sadly.

Sergei moved to join him, taking Sarah's hand and leading her to the couch across from A.J. They sat and he continued to hold her hand as they waited for the Admiral to tell them why he'd come.

"Sarah, Sergei. I'm sorry! Aerial reconnaissance photographs of the crash site show that the explosion scattered debris from Harm's plane all over the mountainside. They found no sign that he survived the crash. He has not made contact. There was no automatic homing signal, which would support the theory that the seat and Harm were still in the aircraft when it exploded." A.J.'s voice broke. . . "Sarah, Tom Boone called to tell me that
they're now considering classifying Harm as killed in action."

Sarah stared at the Admiral. "I don't believe it. That's not possible. I'm going there to search for him. I speak the language." She scrambled to her feet.

"Colonel," A.J. stood and faced her down, "You will stay here and serve your country. That's an order."

"Sir, he was like a son to you," Sarah sobbed.

"Mac, if I thought there was any chance Harm was alive, I'd be the first one in there, you know that! And because he was like a son, I'd never let you go, no matter how well you speak the language. You've seen the tapes from Afghanistan, how the fundamentalists treat women! Harm would haunt me if I let you do anything so stupid."

"Yes, sir," she answered meekly. "I won't give up hope though. I have to believe that Harm's alive!"

"Mac, you were the one who always pointed out to Harm that he was obsessed with the search for his father. Don't start your own obsession. It will only bring you grief."

"More than this, Admiral? I don't think so," she sank back down on the couch and sobbed. Sergei put his arm around her and held her as she cried on his shoulder.

"Tom Boone is flying back with Clay. He wants to meet with all of us Monday morning. Sarah, you'll have as much leave time as you need to deal with this," A.J. said gently.

"I'll be in as usual on Monday. What else is there to do?" She looked the Admiral in the eyes and read his agreement.

"Mac. Sergei. I'll call you later," A.J. rose to leave.

Sarah stood and escorted him to the door. "Thank you, sir."

A.J. reached out and touched her cheek; "I'll see you Monday." He walked out the door, closing it behind himself, then slumped against the wall, weak with grief thinking, Sarah was right, Harm was like the son I never had.

Sarah leaned her head against the closed door, the pain tearing her apart. "Sergei, I have to be alone for a while. I'll be back later." Sarah grabbed her car keys and her leather jacket and hurried out the door before he could stop her. She raced past the Admiral without even seeing him. At first she just drove in her red corvette, remembering the look on Harm's face when she'd bought it after giving him such a hard time about the need
he had for his.

Later, she stopped at Arlington National Cemetery. She parked and walked for hours through rows and rows of neat white markers. Harm, like his father, will never even have this. The thought brought such pain; she sank to the ground and sobbed against the closest marker.

Without even being aware of where she was going, she ended up at The Wall.

1530 local time Iran (730 local time DC)

Harm didn't know how far they'd walked, but it felt like a million miles. His head throbbed and every step jarred his injured ribs.

"We're going to rest here for a few hours. We'll move on to my grandparent's village after midnight." Sam led Harm into an abandoned house. Once inside, Sam approached an empty cupboard and moved it away from the wall. In an alcove behind it was a box of medical supplies. "I have little caches scattered throughout the hills. I can't carry everything I might need with me at all times over this terrain."

"You're a very resourceful guy. You must be a great help to the people of this region." As he spoke, Harm rubbed his hand over his eyes.

"There's a crude bed in the next room. Lie down while I get some water and find the materials I need. I want to clean your head wound and stitch it, then I'll check you over for other injuries.

"Thank you," Harm sighed as he headed for the bed. The events of the past few days had taken their toll.

1400 local time DC The Vietnam Veteran's Memorial

Sarah had no trouble locating the correct panel. She'd accompanied Harm to The Wall when they returned from Russia. She found Harmon Rabb's name and traced it with one finger. "Take good care of him. Tell him I love him." Sarah leaned her head against the cold black marble and wept.

Sergei approached the memorial. He knew Harm made trips there to visit their father. It was where he and Webb had waited for Harm on Christmas Eve. He saw Sarah trace his father's name, Harm's name, and dissolve in tears. He stayed back to give her privacy, and only when he saw her stand back, did he approach her.

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

"The same thing you are, asking my father for help and comfort," he responded.

"I'll go and give you some privacy," she offered.

"No, Sarah. Would you take a walk with me?"

"I'd like that," she answered softly. They fell into step and headed toward the Lincoln Memorial, then past the Korean War Memorial, and along the Potomac, past the ball diamonds and polo grounds, quiet during the cold months. Daffodils were just starting to bloom along the grassy banks of the river. Neither said a word, but each was grateful for the company and support of the other.

Finally, Sergei broke the silence, "I just can't believe Harm is dead."

"I know what I saw in my nightmare, and what they're telling me happened, but my heart just won't accept it." Sarah looked at Sergei, a plea in her eyes, "but is it because he's alive, or because I'm in denial."

"I don't know, Sarah. I feel the same way." Sergei walked Sarah back to her car. "Sarah, pack a bag and stay with me. You shouldn't be alone at a time like this."

"I shouldn't," Sarah started, and then thought about the night she'd spent in Harm's bed and how close she felt to him there. "But, you're right. I really don't want to be alone."

"Stop by your apartment and get what you need. I'll pick up some groceries on the way home and start dinner."

2300 local time Iran (1500 DC)

Sam had cleaned the wound on Harm's head and taken four stitches, all without the benefit of anesthetic. He'd rewrapped Harm's ribs; sure that at least three were broken, but he hadn't found any other wound more serious than scratches and the bruises that seemed to cover most of Harm's body.

"Commander, wake up. Can you travel now?"

"I'm a naval aviator, ready for anything," Harm said with bravado, then grimaced when he tried to sit, "but I could use a hand." He chuckled at the irony and then groaned from the pain it causes as it jarred his injured ribs. Harm stood and moved about the room, his whole body aching.

They set off from the old house. Sam knew the path well and set a brisk pace, but made sure that Harm was staying with him. They only talked if necessary since sound traveled further at night. Both men were alert for any signs of danger, and they made it to the small village without incident just before sunrise.

Sam's grandmother fed Harm and gave him a clean, comfortable bed. His eyes were drifting shut before he'd even settled in the bed. "I'm coming home, Sarah," he sighed as he drifted off to sleep.

Saturday 2215 DC Harm's apartment (0615 Sunday Iran)

Sarah had showered, dressed in another of Harm's shirts, crawled in his bed, and was looking at the picture she'd brought from her apartment when she heard his voice as clearly as if he were next to her in bed.

"I'm coming home, Sarah."

"Oh, my God! Harm!" Sarah gasped as tears trickled down her cheek. "Harm!" He must be alive, she thought hopefully.

"Sarah, are you all right?" Sergei sprinted across the apartment to her side and switched on the light.

"Sergei, I heard him call to me," she blurted. "He said he was coming home. He's not dead. I just know it!" Sarah smiled weakly at Harm's little brother.

Sergei was worried about her. He wanted to believe it, but was she setting herself up for more pain and suffering? "Good, Sarah. I'm happy, but are you sure?"

"I just feel it, Sergei." Sarah picked up Harm's pillow and hugged it. "Harm, come home to me," she whispered as Sergei turned out the light and left the room. Sarah lay down with the pillow clutched to her breast, hope flowing through her body with each beat of her heart.

0600 Sunday local time DC Harm's apartment

Sarah woke, refreshed from a good night's sleep. She slipped out of bed, put on Marine sweat pants, Harm's Navy tee shirt, and found his hooded sweatshirt. Harm, what would you say if you caught me wearing your clothes? she wondered.

Sergei was just waking as Sarah headed for the door. "Wait for me. Harm wouldn't want you to go jogging in this neighborhood alone."

"Hurry up!" she ordered.

Sergei quickly dressed and they ran for almost an hour. "I'll take you out for a real breakfast and then we can go to church to pray that God will speed Harm home," Sarah suggested as Sergei unlocked the door.

"Sounds good. You can have the bathroom first."

Sarah bounded up the stairs, and a few minutes later Sergei heard the shower. He poured himself some juice and sat deep in thought. He wanted to believe Sarah's psychic premonitions, but what would happen to her if she was wrong and Harm never returned?

"Your turn," Sarah told him as she headed to the refrigerator for her own glass of juice. She was dressed in a denim skirt and a yellow sweater. Her damp hair added to the youthful air she projected. Sergei envied his brother, having the love of a woman like Sarah. He rose and went to dress for church.

Sarah opened the paper they'd found by the front door and gasped. There on the front page was a picture of a man in Arab clothing holding a charred scrap of leather with an insignia from an American Naval flight jacket, dog tags, and a blood stained helmet with the call name "Hammer" painted on it. In the background, were small twisted and burned pieces of an aircraft. The headline read: Al Queda Downs US Plane. Sarah read the article, which listed both the terrorist assertions and the official Navy story outlining the rescue of an unnamed American State Department official. It included "the heroic actions" of Navy Commander Harmon Rabb Jr., even telling how his father was still listed as MIA from the Vietnam Conflict.

When Sergei found Sarah, she was staring at the picture. She handed him the paper. "How can they have his dog tags if he's still alive?" She walked to the bed, sat on its edge, and stared at Harm's picture. "What do I believe?" she sighed in anguish.

"Sarah, we can skip breakfast, I'm not hungry anymore, but let's go to church. That is still a good idea," Sergei urged.

"You're right." She rose and, united in their grief, they left the apartment.

1700 Sunday Local time Iran ( 0800 Sunday DC)

Harm woke, more clear-headed and refreshed than that morning. His body still ached, but wasn't as stiff. He carefully levered himself up with his uninjured side and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He needed to talk to Sam, to find out what their next move would be. Harm didn't like a passive role. He wanted to at least be in on the plans. He needed to get home and have a serious conversation with a stubborn, beautiful Marine. No matter what, he wasn't wasting any more time that he could be spending with the woman he'd loved since the moment he'd met her. He would convince her of that!

1330 Sunday Local time DC (2130 Iran)

After lunch, Sara had driven to Bud and Harriet's to see little A.J. Being with her godson always cheered her up. They'd gone across the street to the park and played on the swings and slides. It was a beautiful, unseasonably warm day and A.J. was having a great time. "Where's Uncle Harm? He always plays catch with me," A.J. asked in his innocent little boy voice.

"He went away to fly his airplane, sweetheart," Sarah explained, a catch in her voice.

"Zoom!" A.J. yelled, holding out his arms and running around. Bud approached Sarah as, with tears running unheeded down her face, she watched A.J.

I'll never have a child of my own who wants to grow up in Harm's image, she silently grieved. I'll never have the baby he promised me three years ago.

"Sarah, are you okay?" he asked softly.

"No, Bud. Nothing will ever be right again!" Sarah brushed away the tears. "A.J., it's time to go in for your nap," she called. He ran to her and she gathered him up in her arms as they gave each other a big hug.

Bud took A.J. from Sarah when her cell phone began ringing. She pulled it out and answered, "Sarah Mackenzie."

"Mac, it's Clayton Webb." He paused and continued hesitantly, "I need to talk to you, Sarah. I'm at Bethesda. Would you come to see me? Please!" His voice was weak and full of pain.

"Clay, of course I'll come see you. I'll be there in about an hour." Sarah assured him.

"Thank you, Sarah," he said softly and hung up.

Sarah looked at Bud. "He blames himself. I can hear it in his voice."

"Yes, ma'am," Bud agreed.

"It's not his fault, Bud. If Harm had died when those MiGs shot us down in Russia, or on the Hornet when Clay didn't tell us the Russians were looking for that book of POW's, or on the freighter when Clay was playing dead, I'd have blamed him, but not for this!" Sarah sighed. "Not for this!"

"I'm going to see him. Tell Harriet, I'm feeling much better. A.J. was the best medicine in the world for me." Sarah smiled sadly at her friend.

"Take care, Sarah," Bud said sincerely.

Sarah knew how concerned he must be to use her given name. "I will. Bud, Thank you," she answered, walking to her car.

Sarah drove straight to Bethesda and quickly located Clay's room. She knocked softly and entered, but stopped short at the sight of Clayton Webb. She wouldn't have recognized him. His face was black, blue, and swollen, with numerous cuts. One leg was in a cast and one arm bandaged heavily. An IV tube ran from his other hand.

Clay was awake, waiting for her. "Sarah, I'm sorry," Clay's voice broke. There was a haunted look in the eyes that met hers.

Sarah Mackenzie crossed the room and grasped his hand. "Clay, don't! It's not your fault. I don't blame you, and Harm certainly wouldn't!"

A tear slipped down Clay's cheek, across a cut and Sarah caught it with her thumb as she caressed his face. Tears were so out of character for this man who usually was immune to emotional appeals and rarely showed any emotion of his own. Sarah knew how strongly Clay's friendship for Harm must have grown. "Clay, you're our friend. We'd do anything for you."

"Sarah, if there were any way to bring him back. . " his voice broke again.

"I know, Clay. I know!" she hugged him, careful not to hurt him.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"If you need anything, just ask," Sarah assured him. "Now, rest peacefully and get better. We need you, Clay. We need you and your talents, in this war, more than ever!" Sarah kissed him on the cheek and turned to go, only then seeing Clay's mother standing just inside the door.

Mrs. Webb stepped into the hall with Sarah. "Thank you, Colonel Mackenzie."

"Mac, please. I meant every word, Mrs. Webb. Clayton's a good friend. Harm would be

pleased that the rescue was successful."

"Mac, Clay's told me how close you and Commander Rabb were, I know how much this

cost you. I'm here for you if you need anything."

"Thank you, Mrs. Webb." Sarah hugged Clay's mother, then turned and left before she broke into tears. She didn't know how she'd survive the emotional roller coaster on which she seemed to be trapped.

0030 Monday local time Iran

Harm was hidden under the floor of a truck heading for the coast. Once they got to Kangan, Sam would reach his contacts who could get word to Clay and a pick up at sea would be arranged.

Harm couldn't help remembering hiding in the gypsy wagon, attempting to travel across Russia undetected. But that time, he'd had Mac beside him. He could see her, clear as day, dressed in gypsy attire. She'd been a knockout. Of course, Mac looks great in anything, he thought remembering her in evening attire at the numerous State occasions they'd attended together and in that sexy white nightgown she'd worn in Russia when they had to share the hotel room. Did she do that on purpose? he wondered. His mind

wandered as he tried to picture how she'd look next to him in bed, making love, in
the shower. He shifted uncomfortably - - with his mind going there, a cold shower was what he needed.

"Sarah, I'm coming home. Don't give up on me. I love you!" he whispered.

1800 Sunday Local time DC Harm's apartment

Sarah knocked and when there was no answer, used the spare key Harm had given her. She hung up her jacket and went to the refrigerator for a mineral water. She took several sips, then went up to lie down. She was exhausted from the tug of war between her heart, which screamed Harm had to be alive, and her brain, which told her he'd died, and she needed to accept that she'd lost him for good this time.

Sarah picked up the picture of Harm she'd brought from her own apartment, and remembered the times he'd taken her flying in Sarah. She'd been so upset with him that first time when he'd risked their lives by passing up what she considered a perfectly good clearing in hopes of finding one big enough for a take off. It didn't take very many trips in the biplane for her to get as hooked on her as Harm was. Generally, she'd just as soon leave planes alone, but flying in Sarah with Harm was special.

"Sarah, I'm coming home. Don't give up on me. I love you."

She glanced quickly around the room, so sure she'd heard him right beside her. It's not a memory, he's never told me he loves me, she thought. Sarah sighed and closed her eyes, then saw him. He was wrapped in white, and in a dark space, like a box. A casket? She screamed and opened her eyes.

The door burst open and Sergei ran to her side. "Are you okay?"

Sarah's voice shook, "I heard Harm again. He told me he was coming home, not to give up. He said he loved me. When I closed my eyes, I saw him wrapped in white, in a dark box. Maybe a casket." Tears ran down Sarah's face.

Sergei sat down and put his arms around her. "Tomorrow we'll see Admiral Boone. Maybe he'll be able to help us come to terms with what happened."

Mac nodded solemnly. She was afraid she was loosing her mind.

"I made some potato soup. Would you like some?" he asked.

"Sounds lovely," she said, but Sergei soon saw that Sarah was just humoring him. She had no appetite and by seven o'clock, Sarah had laid down on Harm's bed and was asleep on his pillow.

0600 Monday local time Iran (2200 Sunday DC)

Harm felt the truck jerk to a stop and heard Sam get out and slam the door. He tensed when he heard him talking to someone else. A few minutes later, Sam opened the hidden compartment and Harm scrambled out as fast as his broken ribs would allow.

"Thank God, fresh air!" he exclaimed.

"Harm, this is another friend of Clay's. He owns a boat that travels out of Kangan. He will signal our contact in the agency and drop a message for Clay. This is my clinic. You will need to stay hidden here until arrangements are made for your transfer to a US ship."

"How long will that take? My mother and friends will be frantic." Harm couldn't stand

the thought of what Trish and Mac were going through.

"Soon, my friend. Soon!" Sam assured him. "Right now, I'd like to check you over again and give you some antibiotics to prevent infection in your wounds."

"Lead on. If I could survive your stitches, surely I can live through an exam," Harm laughed. He was beginning to believe that he'd actually make it home.

0600 Monday Local time DC (1400 Monday Iran)

Sergei walked to Harm's bedroom to wake Sarah. He paused, gazing at her. The way she nestled her head on the right side of the pillow, with her left arm and leg draped across it, made him picture the way she would have snuggled up to his brother if they'd ever slept together.

"Sarah," he called softly. "Time to get up. I'm going for a run."

Sarah rolled over and smiled at him. "Thanks. I'll probably be dressed and gone before you get back. I'll see you at JAG later."

"Later," he agreed, then headed out for his run. This is going to be another difficult day, he predicted.

0720 Monday Local time DC JAG Headquarters (1520 Monday Iran)

Colonel Sarah Mackenzie braced herself as the elevator doors opened on their floor. She walked out, shoulders set in her best tough Marine facade, and strode purposefully across the bullpen toward her office. Only a few people were at work this early and no one spoke to her, but she could see sympathy in their eyes. Oh God, this is going to be even harder than I thought. She sat down at her desk, her gaze automatically straying to Harm's office out of habit. Silent tears streamed down her face. Why fight it? she thought as she stood.

Bud and Harriet, who'd just stepped off the elevator, saw Sarah enter Harm's office and shut the door. Bud squeezed his wife's hand, aware that her heart ached for Sarah's pain.

A.J. Chegwidden stood in his doorway, surveyed the solemn scene, and sadly shook his head. JAG would never be the same without the cocky pilot turned lawyer. Harm not only set a standard of legal excellence and loyalty, but a spirit of lighthearted fun as well. He would be sorely missed.

Sarah sank into Harm's chair and let her eyes roam around his office, loosing track of time as she remembered the good and not so good times they'd shared in that very room. They'd worked on cases together and vehemently argued those on which they presented opposing sides. She'd tried to convince Harm not to leave JAG, and had been heart broken when he did. They'd argued philosophical issues and helped each other through more personal problems than she could count. About the only thing they hadn't been able to share was the way they truly felt about each other.

Sarah remembered the night of her engagement party, the closest they'd ever come to sharing their feelings. He'd told her she had someone who would always love her, and when he'd looked into her eyes, she'd known deep down that marrying Mic wasn't right, but she'd been so stubborn. The kiss they shared that night had been even more wonderful than she'd always imagined, and it had scared her.

Sarah thought back to the quick breakfast they'd shared before she left for Norfolk on Wednesday. What was the last thing I said to Harm? It couldn't be as awful as the way we said goodbye last spring before he went down at sea. I didn't wish him luck then, and he almost died. What would I have said Wednesday, if I'd known he was going on a mission during wartime? Would I have told him that I love him and need him?

Sarah ran her hands over Harm's desk, picking up his letter opener and absently fingering it. She noticed a post-it-note stuck to his computer, Ask Sarah to go flying on Saturday!

"Oh, Harm!" she sighed as a fresh wave of tears coursed down her cheeks. She glanced up as the door opened. Trish and Frank Burnett stood in the doorway.

Sarah quickly stood. "I'm sorry, I'll. . ."

"Sarah, stay. You have every right to be here." Trish rounded Harm's desk and hugged Sarah. "I know how close the two of you have always been. I'd probably have lost Harm four years ago on his trip to Russia if you hadn't accompanied him on his quest for his father. You've always been there for my son."

"Mrs. Burnett, I love your son," Sarah stated simply.

"I know, dear, and he loved you." Trish smiled sadly and sighed, "You were both too proud, and too bound by your military codes." She shook her head at the absurdity of passing up love for any reason. Life was too unpredictable.

"I'll regret that the rest of my life," Sarah admitted.

Trish scanned the room, "I just wanted to see Harm's office, to try to get a feel for the last months of his life. I haven't seen him since he made a quick trip out to La Jolla last fall. That was when he told me how much he loved you, but was worried he'd blown his chance with you. He said you wouldn't even talk to him about it when he went to that ship in the Indian Ocean to see you. He was so upset. But when we talked at Christmas, he was optimistic that things might work out."

"I think they might have," Sarah said softly, "we just ran out of time."

Trish smiled weakly, tears glittering in her eyes.

"Mrs. Burnett. ."

"Please, Trish!"

"Trish, did Harm tell you about Sergei?" Sarah asked tentatively. She didn't want his presence later to come as a shock to Harm's mother.

"Yes, dear. He called me on Christmas Day to share his good news." Trish turned toward the window and stared out, "When Harm flew to La Jolla just before Christmas a year ago, I was so angry at the unfairness of life. And with Harm for keeping Sergei a secret from me. Yet, how could I fault Harmon for loving the woman that saved his life, especially after ten years of captivity? Besides, I was married to Frank by then." Trish turned back to Mac, "Now, it's a blessing for Sarah. Her son lives on in Sergei. Sarah and
Harm were so close; perhaps meeting Sergei will help her get through this. She's a rock, but how can anyone be expected to live through loosing a husband, a son, and now her grandson." Trish broke down. "I guess I'm in the same position, I've lost any hope of a grandson along with my son." Frank rounded the desk and pulled Trish into his arms, cradling her against his body.

Sarah nodded to him in understanding and left the room, touching Harm's name on the door as she went out.

"Colonel, the Admiral would like to see you in his office," Tiner intercepted her as she approached her own office.

Sarah looked up at him blankly as her numbed mind processed what he'd just said. "Thank you, Tiner."

"Colonel, I'm so sorry about Commander Rabb."

"Thank you, Tiner." His understanding touched Sarah. She knocked and entered the Admiral's office.

"Colonel Mackenzie reporting as ordered, Sir." Mac stood at attention before the Admiral.'

"At ease, Colonel," he said gently. "Mac, how are you holding up?"

"Not very well, Sir," she answered truthfully.

"Mac, Admiral Boone will be here shortly. DNA tests on the blood that coated Harm's dog tags, helmet and the jacket fragment proved to be his. Tom notified us earlier that Harm has been declared dead." He saw her wince as if hit in the gut. "Tom specifically requested your presence along with Harm's family."

"I appreciate that, Admiral. I know how much Tom Boone meant to Harm and vice versa. I don't blame him and I will tell him so," Sarah assured A.J.

"Sarah, is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, Sir," she whispered.

A soft knock on the door ended their conversation. "Enter."

Tiner stepped into the room. "Sir, Admiral Boone, Harm's mother and stepfather, and Sergei are all in the conference room."

"We're on our way, Tiner." He dismissed his aide. "Colonel, we should join them."

"Yes, Sir," Sarah snapped off a salute and turned to go.

1900 Monday Local time Iran (1100 Monday DC)

Harm put down his plate. He'd just finished a meal of rice and yogurt, passing on the lamb. What I wouldn't give for some of Sarah's vegetarian lasagna and a salad. "Soon," he told himself.

Sam entered the small living quarters of his clinic. "You're looking better, my friend. The rest has helped?"

"I'm feeling much better," Harm assured him, "but I'm anxious to get home. Do we have any word on when that might happen?"

"Our contact has been informed that I have an asset who needs to be evacuated. He's a foreign aide worker. He's made arrangements to deliver medical supplies tomorrow at 0800 and when he leaves, he'll take you with him."

"Good. Will I be able to get a message out right away?" Harm wondered.

"Not before you get back to a US ship at the soonest. We can't risk it. Are you tired of our company?" Sam joked. "

I've got a Marine waiting for me in D.C. I need to get back there. I don't want her hurt. And my mother's been through this before with my father. I don't want her to suffer any longer than necessary."

Sam could hear the concern for the women in his life in Harm's voice. "We'll get you home, Commander," Sam promised. "Not that I want to be rid of you, but I'll feel a lot safer without your delightful company, too."

Harm laughed softly. His ribs just a dull ache now.

1030 Monday JAG Headquarters, Falls Church

Sarah and A.J. entered the conference room together. Sarah saluted Admiral Tom Boone.

"At ease, Colonel," he directed. "Sarah, I'm sorry about Harm. I know how close the two of you were."

"Thank you, Admiral. I know he meant a great deal to you too, and you feel his loss as well."

Sarah had noticed Trish hugging Sergei when she walked in. She smiled at both of them. Harm would be so pleased, she mused.

"Sit down, please." Admiral Boone waited until everyone complied. "I asked you all here so that I could tell you personally that Harm died as he lived, with honor, integrity, and an unselfish love for his fellow man. I know nothing I say can diminish your grief, but know that Harm was doing what he loved: flying and serving his country."

Tom Boone cleared his throat, "Trish, Sarah, Harm flew this mission because of me. I told him about our attempt to rescue his friend, Clayton Webb, knowing that he'd want to take part. When he asked to go, I cleared the way. I'm responsible for Harm flying into danger. Harm was an amazing pilot. He'd already helped take out a terrorist camp and had destroyed an artillery and missile site that hit his wing man, when three MiGs attacked.
Harm had sent Keeter back to the carrier and was outnumbered. He quickly shot down two of the MiGs with incredible flying, but by then he'd used up all his missiles and counter measures. They'd scrambled more planes from the ship, but they couldn't make it in time to help. Harm engaged the final MiG with only a few rounds of ammunition in his guns. He saved over twenty men and three aircraft by downing that last plane before he was hit by its missle." Tom met Trish Burnett's eyes, "Trish, I know this is little
consolation, but I've put in paperwork for a Silver Star for Harm and even recommended him for the Congressional Medal. What he did was brave and unselfish. He served in the highest possible tradition of the United States Military."

"Tom, thank you, for contacting us personally," Trish smiled at her husband's best friend. "Harm looked up to you on so many levels and Harmon would have been grateful for all you've done for his son."

"Trish, Hammer was like my brother, and Harm was so like him. They shared the same sense of honor, duty, and humanity. I mourn with you once again."

"Friday evening, I found Harm up on deck watching a squadron launch and head out for Afghanistan. He was thrilled to be flying another mission, determined to help save a friend. But I could tell that he was having other thoughts too. Later, just before the mission, he came to my cabin and we talked again. He brought me these," the Admiral held up four envelopes. "He told me he loved flying, but knew he loved JAG every bit as much! He said he was glad he'd had the opportunity to help so many people. He was looking forward to completing the mission and heading back to 'his world,' as he put
it." Tom Boone looked at A.J. and Harm's family. "He loved all of you very much. He said the letters were 'just in case'. He didn't want to let anything go unsaid."

"Tom, thank you for arranging to hold the memorial service for Harm at the Naval Academy." Trish rose and went to the man who'd been one of the last people both her husband and son had been with in life. She hugged him and kissed his cheek.

Tom Boone returned her embrace. "I'll see you at your hotel later to finalize details." He handed her one of the envelopes.

"Sarah," Trish turned to Mac. "Please join us for dinner tonight."

Sarah nodded, lost for words.

"Sergei, please bring Sarah with you."

"Yes, Mrs. Burnett. Thank you," he answered shyly.

"Admiral Chegwidden, Harm thought so much of you. Thank you for
agreeing to eulogize him."

"Mrs. Burnett, I deeply share your loss. I am honored to do so." A.J. could barely speak.

Trish took her husband's hand and they left to spend time alone with their son.

"Sergei, Harm was delighted to have a brother. One of the reasons he was so insistent about helping on this mission was gratitude for Clay's efforts to free you and bring you to America."

"Thank you, sir." Sergei took the envelope the Admiral handed him.

"I'll see you later, Sarah." She nodded and touched his hand as he left.

"Sarah," Tom Boone had no idea what to say to her, so he just handed her one of the envelopes. "Semper Fi, Colonel."

Sarah took the envelope, the lump of unshed tears in her throat prevented any response. She nodded and hurried from the room.

Tom Boone watched her go. "Will she be okay, A.J.?"

"Will any of us?" A.J. responded.

Tom Boone gave the last envelope to A.J. "I'll talk to you later," he said before leaving him alone in the huge conference room.

"Damn, Harm. I thought you were indestructible!" A.J. sank down into his chair and opened the envelope.

Admiral,

I know you're thinking he's done it again - run off to his first love! Flying was my first love Admiral, and I'll always love it; but the law has become my life. It's been a great life!

If you're reading this, something went terribly wrong and I didn't make it. Please know that I have always respected you and am grateful for everything you did for me. I know I wasn't the easiest person in your command, but you always had faith in me. I'm eternally grateful.

Admiral, I've left so many things undone, unspoken. Mac will be devastated. I'm one more man in her life who left her. Please take care of her. Help her to know I'd never willingly hurt her.

Sir, you have been very special to me. I'm sorry if I let you down by going on this mission.

Harm

A.J wiped the tears from his eyes. "You too, son. You were special too."

Sarah Mackenzie walked slowly from the conference room to her office, the envelope clasped to her chest. She was oblivious to the staff watching, the pity in their eyes. Sarah closed the door and sat down at her desk. She opened the envelope and removed a sheet of paper and a cassette tape. Slowly she unfolded the letter.

Sarah,

I leave for this mission firmly resolved to return to you and have the conversation we should have had months ago, but if you receive this letter, fate has denied me what I foolishly denied myself for way too long. Sarah, please give me the opportunity to tell you how I feel.

Harm

Tears streamed down Sarah's cheeks as she put the tape into the cassette player on the credenza behind her desk. Her hands trembled as she pushed the play button and heard his warm familiar voice.

Sarah, I'm sitting here on my bunk, the sounds of the carrier all around me. Once upon a time, this was all I wanted. But I've known for a long time now that what I need to make me truly happy, truly complete, is something very different.

As I prepare for this mission, I'm scared. Not of dying, I've always known that was possible. I'm scared of never having the chance to tell you how much I love you. To never have held you in my arms and made love to you. I've loved you since the first time I saw you in The Rose Garden. Of course, it took a little while to realize it, longer still to admit it, and I guess, too long to actually tell you in person.

Sarah, I was such a fool! You took me by surprise that night in Australia. If only I had that day back to live over! I'd take you in my arms and never let you go. If only I'd done that. We might even have a beautiful child or two. I don't want to wait to the end of five years to have a baby with you, or to do it because neither of us is with someone else. I want to have children with you because I love you. You've always brought out the best in
me!

Sarah, I'll always love you. In you I found my soul mate and I'm so sorry I took you for granted. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I hope that you know that I love you. I'm pretty sure you love me too.

More than anything else on earth, I wanted to ask you if you would do me the honor of marrying me, but, if you hear this tape, fate didn't cooperate. Sarah, I will love you through all eternity. I want you to be happy. I hope you find someone deserving of your love.

I'll be with you always, my darling Sarah.

I love you!

"Oh, Harm! I do love you." Sarah sobbed softly, rewinding the tape to hear the sound of his voice again. To hear the words she'd waited a lifetime to hear him profess. As she listened, she saw his sexy flyboy smile, and relived the kiss he'd given her on the porch the night of her engagement party.

1300 Local time DC (2100 Iran)

"Trish, honey, are you going to open Harm's letter?" Frank asked softly as he wrapped his arms around his wife.

"Frank, I don't know if I can. I went through this once with my husband, now Harm! How could this happen twice?" Trish turned in her husband's arms and rested her cheek against his shoulder.

Frank kissed her temple and stroked her hair. Sweetheart, whenever you're ready. We'll save it and someday it will be time."

"Honey, did you see how Harm addressed it?" Trish choked.

"No," he answered hesitantly.

Trish walked across the hotel suite and picked up the envelope from the fireplace mantel. She turned to face Frank who had followed her and handed it to him. Frank stared at the envelope: "Mom and Dad." He looked back to Trish and a single tear escaped and trickled down his cheek.

"You deserve to hear this one. We can listen to it now, if you promise to hold me," she smiled sadly.

"Honey, always!" he answered.

They sat down on the sofa by the fireplace and Frank opened the envelope. He removed the letter and a tape. "You read it," Trish requested.

Mom & Dad,

If you receive this letter something went wrong today. I only hope I've made a difference before that happened. I'm not afraid of dying if it's God's will - I just don't want to leave without saying good-bye.

Harm

Frank squeezed his wife's shoulders. "Can you handle the tape?" Trish nodded silently, so Frank slipped the tape in a boom box he'd borrowed earlier from the hotel. He pushed the play button and hugged Trish to his side.

Mom and Dad, I want you to know how sorry I am for causing you pain. I guess we all knew that someday I might not come back from a mission. It goes with the territory and I've given you a couple of scares already. Please know that I love flying - there are worse ways to die than doing what you love. I'm sorry for leaving so many things unsaid.

Frank, I do love you. You've been a wonderful father and I was a headstrong, selfish kid who'd put his birth father on a pedestal. I should have been a better son! Please know that I never resented you in Mom's life - I'm grateful that you love her and make her happy and found a place in your heart for me. Please take good care of mom.

Mom, I know I wasn't always easy and I must have hurt you by constantly searching for dad. It was something I needed. I loved my father and he shaped the course of my life. You helped me to become the person I was by making sure I knew him, by providing a second father with equally strong character and values, and with your unconditional love.

I'm so sorry that I never got my act together and started a family. This might be easier for you if I'd left behind some grandchildren for you to shower with love.

I want you to know that I did find love, I just wasn't smart enough and courageous enough to let Sarah know how I felt. But I knew her love through all the sacrifices she made for me. Mac will take my death hard - love her for me, like the daughter she'd have been if I'd made it back.

Mom, just as I know what you and Frank have was right, I know that for Dad to have been loved before he died was also right. I know he always wanted to come home to us and I believe eventually, he would have found a way. Mom, please love Sergei, help him to get his citizenship and start a new life here. For me!

I love you mom and dad. Good-bye.

Trish and Frank clung to each other, their tears intermingled.

1700 Local time DC Harm's apartment ( 0200 Tuesday Iran)

Sarah let herself into Harm's apartment. She hung up her coat and slipped off her shoes, then walked to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she closed her eyes and hugged Harm's pillow, inhaling the little bit of his scent it still contained. It was fading.

Sarah saw Harm standing by an open window gazing up at the stars. He was dressed in a white robe. "Sarah, soon. I'll be there soon."

Her eyes flew open and she looked around the room. She was alone.

2200 Monday Local time DC Harm's apartment (0700 Tuesday Iran)

Sergei opened the door and Sarah entered the apartment ahead of him. "I need to move back home. I can't stay here forever. You're moving into your new apartment tomorrow as scheduled. Trish and Frank will want to settle Harm's affairs before they fly back to La Jolla."

"Wait until after the memorial service," Sergei urged. "Trish didn't mind that you were staying here and I'm sure Harm would want it."

Sergei shook his head, "Trish is a wonderful woman. I'm overwhelmed that she and Frank have welcomed me into their family. Most women wouldn't show such warmth to the son her husband fathered with another woman."

"Harm's mother couldn't be anything less than amazing to raise a son with the compassion for others that has always made Harm stand out from other people," Sarah smiled remembering some of the many people Harm had taken under his wing. He'd made so many lives better. Including mine, she thought.

"I better turn in. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I have to sort through Harm's case load, see what needs to be done to close out the last cases on which he worked, and decide how to redistribute the pending ones."

"Are you sure you're up to it? Maybe it's too soon," he suggested gently.

"I'll be okay. I'll be helping him." she answered softly.

"Goodnight, Sarah. I'll see you tomorrow." Sergei kissed her softly on the cheek. It would have been great having you for a sister."

"You'll always have me for a friend," she smiled at him and retreated to the bedroom.

Sarah slipped into one of Harm's shirts, then put his tape in a portable player and laid down in bed. She closed her eyes and listened to his words of love.

0750 Tuesday Local time Iran (2350 Monday local time DC)

Harm paced restlessly. Patience wasn't exactly his strongest virtue. He was anxious to get underway. There was a beautiful Marine he wanted desperately to hold in his arms.

The medical supply truck pulled up to Sam's clinic at exactly 0800. Harm, the white robe hiding his uniform, watched from the back room as a middle aged man of European descent entered the outer room.

"Commander, you can come out," Sam called. "Harmon Rabb, this is Tom Spencer. He's been working for a European medical agency for the past ten years. He's known Clay for about five."

"Nice to meet you," Harm assured him. "I'm rather anxious to reach a US ship or base. My family will think I was killed when my plane exploded."

"You will return with me to my boat and we'll make our regularly scheduled supply run to Dhahran. A US Navy patrol will stop us for an inspection and you will go aboard. They will transfer you ASAP to a carrier or airbase that can arrange a flight back to the States." Tom Spencer informed him of their plans.

"Sounds great! When do we go?" Harm couldn't keep the enthusiasm out of his voice.

"Is now soon enough? " Tom Spencer asked with a laugh. "We need to finish unloading the supplies, and then we're on our way." He enjoyed the grin that lit up Harm's face.

1100 Tuesday Local time Persian Gulf (0300 Tuesday DC)

US naval personnel boarded the small boat and approached the wheelhouse. The Lieutenant in command saluted the aviator waiting for them, "Commander, we heard you needed a lift."

"I sure would appreciate it," Harm smiled grateful to everyone who'd helped to smuggle him out of Iran.

One of the seamen approached the Lieutenant, "Inspection complete, sir. No contraband on board."

"Prepare to return to the ship." He turned to Harm, "Shall we, Commander?"

"Aye, aye," Harm agreed enthusiastically. He extended his hand to Tom Spencer, "Thank you."

"My pleasure. Tell Clay he owes me."

"Will do - - God's speed!"

Harm returned to the naval vessel with the boarding party. "Permission to come aboard, Sir," he addressed the Captain.

"Welcome aboard, Commander. We have a Sea Hawk set to transport you back to the carrier, where they're holding a plane to fly you to Gibraltar and a hop back to Andrews. Seems you have friends in high places." The Captain started walking Harm to the helicopter pad.

"Thank you for your part in getting me home."

"Glad to help, Commander. We heard about how you and Keeter took out the Al Queda camps and then how you fought off three MiGs to protect the rescue force. We're just glad the rumors that you went down with your Tomcat were wrong."

They reached the helicopter, and moments later, Harm was on his way back to the carrier.

1230 Local time Persian Gulf (0430 DC)

Harm scanned the horizon as the Sea Hawk soared across the calm waters of the Gulf. He spotted the carrier, a mere speck in the distance, growing larger every second. Funny, he thought, the thrill of seeing a carrier never goes away. Sometimes, like right now, I feel relief, sometimes anxiety, I've even felt out and out terror, but always there is a
thrill!

When they were still a few miles, out, Harm watched as four Tomcats launched and grouped for a bombing run over Afghanistan. The fighter pilot part of him wanted to climb right back in the cockpit of an F-14 and join them, but right now, the sensitive, concerned son and friend part of him was anxious to climb on the first plane stateside. I have to get home to see mom and Sarah.

The instant the helicopter landed on board the carrier deck, Harm hopped out. Keeter ran over to him and they clasped hands, "Good to see you, Hammer!"

"You too! You too!" Harm smiled broadly. "I didn't think I'd make it."

"You had some guardian angel man!" Keeter shook his head in wonder. "Why no homing beacon or contact? We thought you'd gone down with the plane."

"I don't even remember ejecting, just the fireball below me as I shot out of the cockpit. One of Webb's intelligence assets just happened to be in the right place to see me come down. I hit a rock ledge and was unconscious. He went to great lengths to make the opposition believe I was dead so they wouldn't come looking for me. He knew another rescue force couldn't get in and out before I was caught and executed or the terrorist
network had time to prepare to ambush the helicopters."

"Thank goodness he was there." Jack Keeter smiled at his friend.

Harm looked around. "I need to get to the bridge and contact my family."

At that moment, Captain Carter joined them. Harm snapped to attention. "At ease, Commander. I'm sorry, I can't let you contact anyone at this time. Your rescue has to stay a secret for a while to protect those who helped you. We've been holding a COD for you. You need to hop on board. Try at Gibraltar. The blackout may be lifted by the time you get there."

Keeter handed Harm a fresh flight suit and some toiletries. "Somewhere along the line you might get a few minutes to clean up. Give your mom and Mac a kiss for me!" Jack slapped Harm on the back

"Thanks, Jack. Will do!"

They reached the plane and Harm saluted the captain. "You're welcome to fly with my crew anytime, Commander." Captain Carter returned the salute.

"Thank you, sir." Harm hopped on board and strapped in for the take off.

1100 Tuesday Local time DC JAG Headquarters Falls Church, Virginia

Mac spent the morning sorting through the files in Harm's desk and now had three neat piles. One stack was closed cases, or cases that Harm had used for reference. She'd have Harriet file those. The pending cases would have to be reassigned. The last stack contained Harm's personal files. She set those aside and picked up three files she'd laid on his chair.

"Are you okay, Colonel?" She recognized the concerned voice of Lt. Simms and looked up.

"I'm holding up, Harriet. I have a stack of folders for you to file. I'll take the pendings to my office later and reassign them. I can't bring myself to pack Harm's personal belongings. It's just too soon."

"It can wait, Mac. Nobody needs the office immediately." Harriet as always was the voice of reason. "Would you like to go to lunch with me?" Harriet asked hopefully.

"I'm not hungry." Mac held up the files in her hand. "Harm had three cases that need to be closed out. I want to finish those this afternoon."

"You need to take care of yourself. You look like you've lost at least ten pounds in the past few days. Have you been eating and sleeping?" Harriet tried to reach her friend.

"I'll admit, I don't have much appetite, but I've been sleeping pretty well in Harm's bed. I feel his presence there. I dread going back to my apartment."

"Mac, you know I'll do anything I can for you. So will Bud."

"I know, Harriet. There's just not anything that anyone can do," Sarah replied softly, the pain of loss in her voice.

Harriet nodded sadly, and walked away to give Mac some privacy.

Mac carried the files to her office and set to work. Two hours later, she was just finishing up the last report when there was a soft knock on her door.

"Mac, can I come in?" Sturgis stood in the doorway, a look of utter fatigue and misery in his eyes.

"Sure. Have a seat. You look like you're going to collapse. I heard you won your case in Japan."

Commander Turner sank into the chair in front of Mac's desk. "Yeah, but I'm not so sure I should have." He shook is head, "I've been on a plane for most of the past twenty-four hours. I wanted to be here for the memorial service. Mac, I . ."

"I know!" His gentle voice triggered tears that ran down her face.

"Mac, I wish there was something I could do!" he said helplessly.

"Sturgis, Harm sent me a letter tape like the ones his father used to send to him and his mother from Vietnam. He told me that he loved me and wanted to marry me." She looked up into his sympathetic gaze. "For someone who always knows the exact time anywhere in the world, the timing in my life is terrible."

Sturgis stood and rounded the desk. He took the Marine Colonel in his arms and held her until her tears subsided. "Mac, why don't you go on home? You've just lost you best friend, the man you loved. You need to grieve, Mac. You can't go on like nothing happened."

"Okay, you're right. I've finished Harm's files anyway." She stood and looked around her office blankly.

"Come on, I'll walk you to your car." He escorted her out of the office, turned out her lights, and shut the door.

2200 Tuesday local time DC Harm's Apartment

Mac shut off the lights in the kitchen of Harm's apartment and approached the bedroom. Just as she reached it, she heard the phone. She screened the call by letting the machine pick it up.

"Mac, it's Clay. I need to talk to you. Please pick up."

Sarah grabbed the phone, "Clay, how'd you know I was here? Never mind, stupid question! How do you know anything?"

"Mac, I'm offended! You don't have a very good bedside manner. I'm laid up and you're insulting me."

"I'm sorry, Clay. Did you need something?" she asked resignedly.

"As a matter of fact, yes. I'm still being held captive in this hospital room, and I need someone to break me out. I have to meet a plane at Andrews in a few hours. Will you help me?"

"Clay, what's so important that you need to defy doctor's orders?" Sarah's exasperation came through loud and clear.

"Sarah, it's an important package from my Iranian contacts. It's critical that I am there and I need your help. Please!"

"Alright, Clay, but this better not get me court-martialed! I'll be right over." Sarah hung up the phone, grabbed her coat and keys, and headed out the door.

Clayton Webb smiled in delight. "Have I got a surprise for you, Colonel!"

2300 Local time Bethesda Naval Hospital

Sarah entered the hospital, showed her ID to the officials on duty and explained that she had to see Clayton Webb on official business. When she reached his room, he was dressed, in a wheel chair, and ready to go.

"I've signed myself out so you won't get court-martialed. Take me out the side entrance, there's a government car waiting for us."

"Us, Clay? If you have a car and driver, why do you need me?" Sarah knew she was being impatient, but she'd never had as much tolerance for Clayton Webb's intrigues as Harm had.

"For protection of course," he said seriously.

Sarah laughed out loud, she couldn't help it.

"Well you were pretty helpful on one other occasion . . .make that two . .three. . ."

"Enough! All right, Clay. I'll humor you. Let's go." Mac couldn't believe that she actually heard herself laughing. She grasped the handles of the wheelchair and they set off.

0230 Local time Andrews Air Force Base

They'd been at Andrews for over an hour when an Air Force Lieutenant approached Clay to tell him that the flight he was waiting for had just landed.

Mac stood to wheel Clay outside to meet the plane. She took the handles of the chair, but Clay reached up and laid his hand on hers. "Mac, thank you for bringing me here, but I changed my mind. I'm not going out. I don't want to intrude. You're the one who needs to go meet that plane." He grinned at her like the Cheshire Cat.

Mac stared at him, remembering his earlier words: It's an important package from my Iranian contacts. "Clay, is Harm . . ." She stopped, afraid to hope that what she was thinking could be true.

"Go to him, Mac!" he urged

She leaned down and kissed Clay on the cheek then ran out to the tarmac where the plane was just rolling to a stop. She watched as a ground crew secured the transport and the door opened.

A minute later, Commander Harmon Rabb Jr., in a fresh flight suit, stepped out and started to descend the stairs. His eyes were drawn to the figure waiting below. "Mac?" he called softly, not believing his eyes.

"Oh, Harm," the tears welling up in her eyes and trickling down her cheeks sparkled in the lights from the plane, as she slowly moved toward the ramp.

Harm raced down the remaining stairs and gathered her in his arms. "Oh God, Sarah! I didn't know if I'd ever see you again." He kissed her with all the passion that had been building for the past six years. "Sarah, I love you!" he choked out through his tears as he cradled her against his breast. He stroked her hair and kissed her temple.

"I love you too, Harm! I thought I'd lost you," she sobbed clinging to him.

"Oh, darling. I know. I'm so sorry you went through that." He wiped away her tears and gently hugged her to him again. They clung to each other, afraid to let go, lest it only be a dream.

Finally, Harm pulled back and looked into the big brown eyes he'd so longed to see. "How did you know I was on this plane?"

"I didn't until a minute ago, Clay conned me into breaking him out of the hospital, then when I got there he had a limo waiting and told me he wanted me along for protection."

Harm laughed, "I'll bet that went over well."

"You know me," Mac continued, "He was sorely testing my patience. He didn't tell me you were on the plane until it pulled up here."

"I owe him for bringing you to me!" Harm sighed contentedly and hugged her tighter.

"I heard that, Rabb," Clay called from just inside the waiting room door.

Harm took Mac's hand and they joined Clayton Webb.

"Commander, it's nice to see you alive and well," Clay said in his understated, matter of fact way. He couldn't hide his smile however.

"It's good to see you too." Harm reached out and shook Clayton Webb's hand. "Thank you for getting me out of Iran and home so quickly."

"My pleasure, Harm! You saved me back there, by making sure we got away from the MiGs. Returning the favor was the least I could do! But you had us all more than a little worried. I thought you'd gone through all nine of your lives."

"I can't thank you enough for bringing Mac here tonight." Harm hugged her to his side. "Does anyone else know I'm alive?"

"Not yet. I had to protect my assets and I really didn't want Mac or your mother to know until you were home safe. If anything had gone wrong, I didn't want the people who loved you to go through the pain of loosing you more than once." "

It's the middle of the night. I guess we can contact everyone else in the morning."

"Come on," Clay suggested. "Let's get you home."

Harm tucked Sarah's arm in his, then took the handles of the chair, and together they wheeled Clay to the limo.

0400 Wednesday DC

On the way into the city, Clay and Mac informed Harm about the memorial service planned for the next day.

"They have the Academy chapel booked for tomorrow afternoon? Who pulled that off?" Harm asked in astonishment.

"Admiral Boone and the Secnav," Mac responded.

"The Secnav was doing a favor for me? That's a miracle!" he laughed.

"I guess he didn't know how much he cared until he thought he'd lost you," Mac teased, then noticed Harm wasn't really listening, but was deep in thought. "Harm?"

His eyes refocused on her, "Do you think there's any chance we could get permission to make it a wedding instead of a funeral? Since the chapel's already spoken for and everything," he wondered aloud.

Mac looked at him in shock.

"I assumed that Tom Boone delivered my letters since everyone thought I was dead." He looked at her questioningly. She nodded. "Mac, I know this isn't the most romantic proposal, but I don't want to waste any more time." He took her hand in his. "Will you marry me, Sarah Mackenzie?" he asked softly.

"Oh, Harm. Yes!" she sighed, then kissed him to show him the depth of her love. Harm parted her lips and deepened the kiss, caressing her back and arms.

"Rabb, don't forget you're not alone," Clay reminded him dryly.

Harm broke the kiss and smiled at Webb. "Well, Clay, I'm assuming you were going to attend my funeral. Will you still show up at Annapolis tomorrow, for my wedding?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he grinned. "I've been waiting six years for this. Actually, I think I should take credit for this wedding. I'm the one that had Sarah assigned as your partner."

Harm smiled at him, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

The limousine pulled up outside Harm's apartment. Mac leaned over and kissed Clay. "Thank you for bringing this flyer back to me."

Clay blushed, "It's the least I could do for the two best friends I have."

Harm just nodded, words weren't necessary between them.

Harm and Mac watched the limousine pull away, then Harm put his arms around Mac and they went up to his apartment. As they neared the door, Harm suddenly stopped. "I just remembered, I don't have a key. Admiral Boone had already taken all my personal effects."

Mac pulled her key from her pocket. "I have one, remember." She unlocked the door; Harm opened it, turned on the light, and let her enter first. She took off her jacket, but dropped it on the floor as Harm closed the door and swept her into his embrace. His kiss made her forget everything else. When Harm finally broke the kiss, he asked her to wait right where shewas. . .

Harm crossed to his desk and, opening the center drawer, removed a key and unlocked the file drawer. He reached to the back and drew out a black velvet box. Returning to Sarah, he dropped to one knee. "I love you, Sarah Mackenzie. You are my soul mate, the only woman I'll ever love. Please tell me again that you'll marry me and be my love through all eternity."

"Yes, Harmon Rabb. Nothing in heaven or earth would make me happier." Her dazzling smile made his knees weak.

Harm opened the box and slipped a two caret, round diamond solitaire on her finger. Then he stood, gathered Sarah in his embrace, and kissed her the way he'd dreamed of for the last six years.

Tears of joy ran down both their faces. Sarah treasured the fact that Harm was so moved by the moment. "I've never been so happy," she whispered and kissed away his tears.

"Me either," Harm answered with a sense of contentment he'd never known before. He touched her cheek gently, reverently. "Sarah, do you think we can pull a wedding together before this afternoon?"

"I've waited my whole life for you. I'm not letting this opportunity slip by, " she smiled at him.

Harm knew he'd never seen Sarah happier, or more beautiful, but she'd been up almost all night. "You need some rest, and I feel an intense need to just hold you in my arms. Do you mind if we go to bed together for a few hours?" Harm wasn't sure how she'd feel about sharing his bed the morning of their wedding.

"Come on, Flyboy," she said, leading him to the bedroom, "I've been sleeping in your bed since your plane went down. It will be nice to hold onto you instead of your pillow." She laughed at his look of surprise.

"If I'd known I'd find you in my bed, I could've flown home without a plane." He gave her one of those devastating smiles that had driven her crazy for years.

"Sergei wouldn't let me go home and be alone after I came to tell him on Friday. Then I chose to stay here because I felt closer to you."

"Oh, Sweetheart. I'm sorry you were put through such emotional turmoil." Harm kissed her tenderly on the temple as he held her close.

Sarah gently touched Harms face, his bandages and bruises. "Are you really all right?"

"A few stitches, three broken ribs, and some bruises. Not bad for having a plane blow up under me." He saw her shudder, "Sarah, I'm sorry!" Harm pulled her against his chest. "All I could think of was the pain you and my mother would suffer."

"I know how much you love flying, but right now I'm glad you're a lawyer full time and only an aviator part time." She smiled weakly and gently caressed his cheek.

"Me too. I couldn't bear leaving you for months at a time." He pulled her tightly into his embrace.

"Really, Harm?" Sarah asked incredulously.

"Really!" he answered vehemently, kissing her on the tip of her nose. "Come on, you need some rest." Harm led her to his bed.

"Alright, Flyboy, let's get comfortable." Sarah faced him and unzipped his flight suit. With her help, he removed his shoes and shrugged out of his clothes. Sarah unzipped her jeans and Harm slid them down over her slender hips. He unbuttoned her shirt and laid his head against her breasts.

"Sarah, I've dreamed so often of how it would feel to touch you, hold you, make love to you!" he sighed. "I love you so much." Harm gently slipped her blouse off and cradled her in his arms. Together, they sank onto the bed.

Sarah laid against Harm's uninjured side, her head on his shoulder, her hands caressing his chest. "Harm, are you sure you don't need medical attention?" She worried about the bruises that covered a good share of his torso.

"A very nice doctor checked me over while I was hiding out in Iran. In fact, he's the one who hid me and made the Iranians believe I was dead." He stroked her cheek, "Then the Navy doctors at Gibraltar examined me before they let me fly home." He smiled at her and saw the fatigue in her beautiful face. "Honey, close your eyes and sleep for a few hours." Harm wrapped his arms around Sarah and hummed a lullaby. She kissed his cheek and snuggled her head against his. It only took moments before he felt her relax and her slow, even breathing told him she was asleep.

Harm lay awake, holding Sarah, just enjoying her warmth, the softness of her skin, the smell of her hair. She's so beautiful, and I'm thankful that I didn't loose her to Dalton or Mic. Why did I waste so much time that we could have had together? I'm the luckiest man on earth to get another chance and I'm not letting it get away. Harm gradually drifted off to sleep.

0700 DC Harm's Apartment

Sarah woke slowly, becoming aware of the light behind her eyelids and the warm body she was clinging to, her leg draped around Harm's long powerful one, her thigh brushing his manhood. Her head lay on his familiar shoulder. . .How many times have I cried on that shoulder? she wondered. Her arm rested across his chest and she tightened her hold on him slightly.

"Are you awake?" Harm seductively whispered in her ear as he kissed it.

"Only if you're real," she answered softly.

"Oh, I'm real all right," Harm nibbled her ear and pulled her a little more on top of himself."

Sarah opened her eyes and looked into Harm's blue ones. She saw such love; it took her breath away.

As their gazes met, Harm saw the pure love and devotion that Sarah had always demonstrated reflected in her eyes, and today they sparkled with a special radiance and happiness. Do I really have the power to make you that happy? he thought in wonder. It's all I'll ever want.

They moved together and met in a kiss of pure love and reverence for each other. Harm rolled over, taking Sarah with him. He ran his hands over her shoulders and rained kisses down her neck to one breast, then the other. Sarah caressed his face, shifting under him as her need built.

Suddenly Harm pulled back, his voice breathy with desire, "Sarah, if we do what I really want to do right now, we won't manage to arrange a wedding, so I really need to take a cold shower and enlist some help with the plans. We have less than six hours."

"I know," she answered, weak with her own need. "While you shower, do you want me to call your parents and ask them to come over?"

"That would be perfect. Call the Admiral, we'll need his help too. And Sergei." Harm kissed Sarah again and headed for the bathroom. She watched him appreciatively as he walked away. He really is gorgeous, she thought. "Harm." He glanced over his shoulder. She smiled seductively, "And I thought this view couldn't be any better than in a flight suit."

He gave her a sideways look that made her melt inside. "Just wait, Marine," he promised before he slipped around the shower wall.

Sarah climbed out of bed and grabbed one of Harm's shirts from the closet. She slipped into it and went to the kitchen to start coffee, then picked up the phone and dialed Frank and Trish.

Frank answered the phone on the second ring. "Frank, it's Sarah. Something has come up, I need you and Trish to come to Harm's apartment right away."

"Sarah, are you okay?" Frank asked in concern.

"I have something that you need to see and I'll need your help before the memorial service at Annapolis. It's really important, Frank!"

"We'll be right over, Sarah!" he assured her.

"Thank you, Frank." Sarah hung up the phone and smiled, knowing how happy they'd be to see Harm. Frank had told her about their tape and she was thrilled that he and Harm would have a chance for a real father-son relationship. She walked to Harm's desk for the phone number Sergei had left, glad she'd insisted he not stay here to baby-sit her last night. She was thankful for the few hours alone with Harm before she had to share him
with the rest of the world.

Sergei answered on the first ring. "Hello."

"Sergei, it's Sarah. I need you to come right over. I found something I want to share with you before the memorial."

"Okay, Sarah. I just finished my run. I'll shower and then be right over."

Sarah checked Harm's address book and located the Admiral's number. When there was no answer at his house, she dialed JAG Headquarters.

"Admiral Chegwidden's Office."

"Tiner, is that you?" Sarah asked, surprised that he was in the office so early.

"Yes, Colonel. There was some work that needed to be done before the memorial."

"Is the Admiral in?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll connect you."

"A.J. Chegwidden." His answer was business like but detached. He was deep in thought, trying to figure out what to say about Harm. He didn't know if he could get through the eulogy.

"Admiral, it's Colonel Mackenzie," she said hesitantly not sure how to proceed.

"Mac, what is it? Is anything wrong?" concern rang in his voice. Mac laughed weakly, it just slipped out. A.J. realized what he'd said. "Oh, Mac, I'm sorry. Of course everything is wrong."

"Admiral, are you sitting down?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, expecting the worst.

"Admiral, everything is right! Harm's alive."

"Hoorah!" he exclaimed softly, but with a wealth of emotion.

"Until the CIA clears it, that's privileged information. Harm's here with me and we need your help. Can you come right over?" Sarah asked.

"On my way." he said happily, hesitated a second then continued, "Sarah, don't let anything go unsaid."

"We haven't, Admiral. We haven't." Sarah's voice rang with joy.

"Good!" he responded, a weight lifted from his heart.

"Admiral, you're the only one who knows beside Clay and the people involved in Harm's rescue. Would you bring Admiral Boone with you? I think he should be in on our secret too."

"I'll contact him, and we'll be right there," the Admiral promised. Sarah hung up the phone.

Harm walked up behind Sarah, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her on the neck. "That shirt looks awfully good on you."

"I've been wearing a lot of your clothes the past few days," she admitted sheepishly. "I noticed that my closet looked a little emptier than when I left," he said with a chuckle, then turned her in his arms and kissed her lips. One taste wasn't enough for either of them. As they deepened the kiss, the tea kettle started whistling.

"Saved by a tea kettle," Harm laughed. "If you don't go get dressed, my mother is going to catch me in a compromising position."

Sarah laughed at the mischievous look in his eyes as he cocked his head in that oh, so familiar way of his.

"Okay, Flyboy! But, we need juice and fruit, maybe even some rolls, for all this company we're going to be getting in a few minutes."

"I'll run across the street while you shower. I don't think I could keep myself from joining you if I stayed here." He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Tonight!" she breathed, a hint of passion in her voice.

"I'll hold you to that," he smiled that sexy flyboy smile she couldn't resist. Then he grabbed his jacket and was out the door.

Sarah Mackenzie fairly walked on air as she headed for the bedroom and bath to dress for her wedding day. She saw Harm's academy ring laying on his dresser, picked it up and tried it on for size.

0800 DC Harm's Apartment

Sarah was just coming back down the stairs, dressed in a simple navy blue knit dress that hugged her slim figure, when the doorbell rang. She answered it to find Frank and Trish, identical looks of concern on their faces.

"Come in, please, and sit down," Sarah indicated the couch and chairs. Trish looked around her son's apartment as they sat and Frank put his arm around her when she began to cry softly.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "Being in this apartment, seeing Harm's things, I just can't imagine life without him."

Sarah knelt down in front of Trish and took her hands between her own. She looked Harm's mother in the eyes, "The reason I asked you here was to tell you that you don't have to. Trish, Harm isn't dead. He's alive."

Trish studied Sarah and saw the happiness in the face of the beautiful young woman in front of her. "You're serious."

Sarah nodded, the sparkle in her eyes erasing the last doubt Trish had in her heart. It was true. Just then, the bell rang. Sarah rushed to open the door.

"I forgot I didn't have a key." Harm kissed Sarah, then noticed his mother. He set down the bag of groceries and crossed the room in a few long strides to take her in his arms. Trish began to sob softly. "Mom, I'm so sorry to scare you again."

"Honey, I'm just so thankful you're alive!" She hugged him tightly. Harm kissed her cheek and met his stepfather's eyes over her shoulder. "Dad?"

Tears glistened in Frank's eyes. "Good to see you, son."

Sarah watched their reunion, tears streaming down her own face.

A light tap on the door preceded Sergei's entrance with his own key. He stopped in shock at the sight of his brother.

"Harm!" he gasped happily.

Harm smiled, walked to his brother and hugged him. "Little brother, it's good to see you again. Thank you for taking care of Sarah for me."

"I'm happy you are safe. I couldn't believe you were gone. There is still so much we have to learn about each other." Sergei's voice was choked with emotion.

"We have time, Sergei. We have time and we're not going to waste any of it." Harm turned to his parents. "Sarah and I have something important to share with you, and we need your help. We'll tell you all about it over breakfast."

Trish helped Sarah set out the food then turned to her, "I hope that 'something important' is what I've been wishing for ever since Harm started working with you. You're all he ever talked about when we were together or visiting on the phone." Sarah smiled, nodded, and held up her left hand. Trish hugged her. "You're so good for him. Maybe he'll settle down and stay out of danger," she said hopefully.

"I'm not sure that is entirely possible with Harm," Sarah laughed. "But he did tell me he was glad he was a lawyer, not a full time pilot."

Harm answered the knock at the door and admitted Admirals Boone and Chegwidden. They observed military protocol, but the faces of both men showed their elation that the younger man was still alive.

"You know, son," Admiral Boone told Harm, "I've put in paperwork for a Silver Star and recommended you for a Congressional Medal."

"Sir, I don't know what to say." Harm was overwhelmed.

"Mark this day on your calendars," A.J. joked. "Harmon Rabb Jr. is speechless!"

Harm laughed. "There's another reason to mark this day. That's why we called you all here. Sarah and I need your help with a little project."

Harm walked to Sarah and put his arm around her, drawing her to his side. "I've finally gotten around to doing what I should have done years ago. I've asked Sarah to marry me, and she has agreed."

They both beamed in the chorus of 'congratulations' and 'it's about time'.

"We need your help," Harm went on. "Clay and Sarah told me about the memorial service planned for this afternoon at the Academy chapel. Since you can't call it off under Clay's media blackout, I'd like to change it into a wedding."

"I don't know if you can get a marriage license that soon in Maryland." A.J. began.

"If we don't have a legal license, we'll have another civil ceremony at the court house later to make it legal, but I want to commit to Sarah, today, in front of all my friends. I'm alive, but only by the grace of God. I shouldn't have survived that crash." He felt Mac shudder and tightened his embrace. "Only one of Clay's assets being in the right place at the right
time saved me. I don't want to waste another day!"

"We'll help any way we can, Harm," Frank assured him. Trish smiled at her husband and her son.

"What can two old admirals do to help?" Tom Boone asked.

"Admiral Boone, can you arrange the change in plans with the officials at the academy? They need to be sworn to secrecy until Clay breaks the story."

"I think I can handle that," he assured Harm.

"Admiral Chegwidden, would you check on the marriage license?"

"Sure, son," he agreed.

"Admiral," Sarah asked hesitantly, "I'd like you to give me away. Please."

"Of course, Sarah. My pleasure. That's a much easier task than eulogizing this guy." He smiled at both of them. "We better move, we've only got a few hours."

"Four hours, twenty-four minutes," Sarah supplied automatically.

"Now that we're getting married, will you tell me how you do that?" Harm asked.

Everyone laughed as she answered, "I have to keep some mysteries or you'll loose interest."

"Not likely!" Harm kissed her affectionately.

"Sir, could you help Sergei find a tux and take him out to Annapolis with you?" Harm asked A.J.