Cold. She was so cold. It was dark now and even the concrete that had earlier reflected the sun’s heat now tried to suck every last drop of warmth from her body. The cold bothered her, but it was the faces that scared her. There were faces everywhere, but not one of them was familiar. They stared, they laughed, the jeered, following her everywhere she went.

She had to get away, but no matter where she went, they followed. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Stop looking at me!"

But they wouldn’t. The more she demanded, the more they stared. She was used to being obeyed. Why weren’t they listening to her?

She couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to get away. Stumbling into an alley, she sought the darkness, letting it carry her farther and farther away from the confusing sights and sounds. Halfway down the dark tunnel of concrete, she tripped, falling to her knees. Too tired and too cold to continue, she crawled over to the wall, seeking shelter behind a metal trash bin.

At last, the faces were gone. The noises were silent. She slept.

JAG HQ – 22:53 EST

In about ten seconds, AJ was going to order a pair of handcuffs. Chaining Cmdr. Rabb to his desk was apparently going to be the only way to get the man to sit still. From the moment they returned to Ops, Harm had been circling like an angry swarm of one. The tension pouring off him was putting everyone on edge. He looked like he was about ready to take the walls down with his bare hands.

Just getting Rabb to return to JAG had taken a direct order and an overt threat to personally kick his six all the way back here if he so much as thought about disobeying. Now all AJ had to do was find a way to creatively channel the commander’s nervous energy before he drove everyone nuts.

The hell of it was, there wasn’t a damn thing any of them could do. The police were patrolling a wide radius around the hospital and he’d pulled a number of off-duty Navy and Marine Corps volunteers to augment the search personnel sent by the bases and naval stations in the area. But Washington was a big place when it came to looking for one person, especially one who might not want to be found.

Given the advanced condition of the colonel’s brain tumor, there was no way of knowing what her mental state might be. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly or she wouldn’t have left the hospital in the first place. She’d been missing for almost twelve hours and AJ was beginning to despise the practical streak in him that said every minute longer gave them less chance of finding her before the tumor caused irreparable damage, or worse.

Even if the tumor didn’t cause any further damage, the colonel was alone on the streets of Washington, without the reasoning power to so much as pick up a telephone and call them. Maybe Cmdr. Rabb could use some help wearing a hole in the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harm saw the admiral glaring at him, but ignored him. He hated sitting around here like a lump when he should be out there searching for Mac. They all should be. It only took one person to man the phone lines in case there was any news. The rational side of him said there wasn’t much practical good one more searcher could do in a city the size of Washington, but it beat the hell out of standing idly by doing nothing.

Lt. Harriett Simms suddenly appeared at his side, scaring the heck out of him. "Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted you to know Col. MacKenzie’s photo and description have been sent to every emergency shelter and homeless haven in the city."

"Thanks, Harriett."

"Unfortunately, sir, they can’t make any promises. Some of them see over a hundred people a day." She gave him a smile that would have been encouraging if it hadn’t been marred by the deep frown she couldn’t quite hide. "But don’t worry, Commander. We’ll find her."

He dug up some kind of smile for her, then headed across the room to talk to Chegwidden. "Admiral, I’m going a little stir-crazy hanging around here. I’d like permission to re-join the search."

"I’m sure you would, Commander, but I’ve got a news flash for you. This isn’t about what you want. It’s about the most effective use of available resources to help out one of our own who’s in trouble."

Momentarily stunned, Harm stared at the admiral. Damn, he was right! Chastised, he gave a single, sharp nod. "Aye, sir."

"Commander, I understand your frustration. I truly do, but driving aimlessly around the streets in hopes of spotting her isn’t the best way to go about this. You know the colonel probably better than most people. Can you think of anyone, friends or acquaintances she might go to?"

"Under normal circumstances, sir, maybe, but with the frame of mind she’s in, I really don’t know."

"Well, make a list anyway, and make sure someone contacts everyone on it," the admiral told him.

It sounded like busy-work to him, but Harm grabbed a pad and pen off the nearest desk and, hitching one hip on the corner of the desk, started scribbling.

Over two hours later, the admiral dismissed everyone except a couple of enlisted personnel who had just been called in. He ordered them all to go home and get some rest. Harm got into his car and headed home, but the closer he got, the more he hated the idea of stepping into that dark, empty apartment.

He came to an intersection, lonely and deserted this time of night. His apartment was a few blocks to the left, but if he turned right, the hospital was less than ten minutes away. It couldn’t hurt to swing through the neighborhood over there just once, could it? He spun the wheel to the right.

He cruised through the darkened streets, driving slowly and glancing from one side of the street to the other. After touring the streets near the hospital, he heaved a sigh, drove one block farther out and started circling again. The ever-widening loop eventually took him closer to the depressing inner-city neighborhoods, passing building after building scared by years of abuse and neglect. If Mac made it down here.... He suppressed a shudder and kept driving.

Around and around he went, turning every so often to crisscross back, filling in an intricate latticework. He finally stopped at an all-night convenience store and bought a large cup of coffee. The stuff was vile tasting and resembled something they used to grease engine parts, but it contained caffeine and that was all that mattered.

The eastern sky was beginning to lighten as he got back in the car and headed out again. If Mac had any reasoning power left at all, she would have gone to ground for the night, but he had to keep looking. The image of her flying at him in a blind rage haunted Harm every time he closed his eyes, followed invariably by an equally vivid image of her going to pieces in his arms. The thought of her being alone out here in that condition was slowly driving him insane.

Dawn came, flat and gray, the overcast skies threatening rain. Like some lumbering creature shaking off the night’s rest, the city began to wake. People started appearing outside their shops, sweeping sidewalks and putting out displays. The more people there were on the streets, the greater the chance that one of them would be Mac, but as the morning aged, Harm’s hopes began to fade. Reluctantly, he turned the car toward Falls Church.

JAG HQ – 07:20 EST

It didn’t surprise AJ one bit when he walked into the bullpen and saw the room filled with people. What did surprise him was that Cmdr. Rabb wasn’t one of them. Petty Officer Tiner greeted him with an update from the DC police, a negative update, but then, AJ knew it would be. He’d left strict orders that he was to be phoned if any news came in.

He got himself a cup of coffee and was carrying it toward his office when Cmdr. Rabb came in. AJ took one look at him and knew the commander had disobeyed his orders last night. The slightly rumpled uniform and the more-than-slightly bleary eyes told AJ that Harm probably hadn’t been back to his apartment at all. AJ shook his head. "Commander, in my office please."

Rabb diverted, following him through into the office. The moment he closed the hatch behind him, AJ whirled on him. "Commander, if you don’t get a grip, you’re going to find yourself watching this endeavor from the inside of a brig cell."

That got Rabb’s attention. His eyes went a little wide as he stared down at AJ.

"I gave everyone specific orders last night. Do you remember what they were?"

Rabb hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Yes sir. To go home and get some rest."

"And did you?"

Rabb waffled. "Well, Admiral..."

"Uh-huh. You spent the night driving the streets, didn’t you?"

There was a very long pause this time, followed by a sheepish reply. "Yes, sir."

Harm knew Chegwidden was going to be pissed if he found out Harm had spent the night searching, but he’d planned to keep him from finding out. He hadn’t counted on the admiral’s keen powers of observation.

"Damn it, Commander, I need you to set an example around here! Everyone’s worried about her, but we—"

That tore it! "Admiral, sir, with all due respect, I saw her, you didn’t. In her condition, she’s in real and imminent danger out there. We’re all used to thinking of Mac as being a woman who can take care of herself in situations that would make a lot of men cringe, but she’s not herself, sir. She’s so far from being herself I still can’t believe it was really her in the apartment yesterday." Good Lord, was it only yesterday?

The admiral drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Commander – Harm – I know what you saw is haunting you. It’s always hard to see the people we care about lose themselves that way, but I also know how obsessive you can be. If you keep your afterburners lit twenty-four hours a day, eventually you’re going to crash and burn, and frankly, I don’t need that right now."

In his heart, he knew the admiral was right, but he also knew in his heart that Mac needed him more now than she ever had before. He couldn’t let her down.

Stiff and sore from a night spent on the cold, hard ground, she moved slowly out of the alley, looking around, desperate to find anything that was familiar, but nothing was. Dazed and confused, she stumbled into the busy sidewalk, bumping shoulders with someone. "I’m sorry," she muttered automatically.

"Honey, you certainly are."

Startled, she turned. "What...?"

"You are one sorry looking gal," the woman said again. She was a tall, heavyset African American, dressed in some kind of outrageously purple dress with a bright yellow shall draped over her shoulders.

"I...I guess...I am," she replied, slowly looking herself up and down.

"Got a name, honey?"

"Pardon?"

"Got a name? What’s your name?"

Strange as it was, that took some thought. Slowly the answer formed in her mind. "Sarah. My name’s Sarah."

The woman gave a laugh. "You sound surprised. What are you doing out here anyway?"

"I...I don’t know," she admitted, realizing how much that frightened her. "I...I think I’m looking for something." No, not something, someone, but she couldn’t seem to remember who.

"Well, you don’t look like your typical street person, not in that outfit. You in the Navy?"

"Huh?"

"The Navy, gal! Your shirt says USN."

She glanced down at the gray sweatshirt. It did, indeed, have USN emblazoned across the front. "Uh...no. I’m not in the Navy. It was a...a gift...from...a friend."

An instantly, a face popped into her mind, clear blue-gray eyes and strong handsome features beneath short dark hair. She had the impression of looking up at him as he gazed at her, his eyes filled with tenderness.

"Hey. Hey, Sarah?" A tug on her sleeve yanked her back from the memory. "You okay?"

"I...uh..."

The woman wrapped an arm around her. "Come on, Honey. Let’s get you a hot meal and see if that helps. Afterwards, we’ll talk some more about whatever it is you’re looking for."

It was him. She was looking for him. She didn’t know why, or even who he was, but she was certain now that she needed to find him. She needed that more than anything else in the world.

Flo watched the young woman ravenously devouring the pancakes and eggs. It was a little early for the mission’s main breakfast crowd and the big dining hall was nearly empty, but that was probably a good thing. If some of the regulars got a look at this gal, she wouldn’t last a day.

Whoever she was, this poor waif didn’t belong here. She was showing some wear and tear, but it was obvious she hadn’t been on the streets long. Her nails were short and neatly kept, and although her hair was looking a little worse for wear, it was well-cut. Flo hadn’t been able to get much more out of her than her name, her first name. Beyond that, the girl didn’t seem to be tracking all that well. She was a real mystery, this one.

"So what is it you’re looking for?" she asked as Sarah took a long drink of juice to wash down her breakfast.

"Not what, who." She stuffed another forkful of pancake into her mouth.

"Okay, who, then."

"Don’t know," she mumbled around a mouthful.

Flo sighed. "You’re looking for someone, but you don’t know who."

Sarah nodded. "But I’ll know him when I see him."

Psych patient. Flo was certain of it now. She wondered if she should report her to the Social Services people, but Lord only knew where they’d lock her up. Flo had seen enough of those places in her years as a shelter volunteer. In a lot of ways, the poor kid was probably better off out here. "Have you got a place to stay?"

Sarah nodded.

"Good. Is your stuff there?"

"What stuff?"

"You know, your stuff. Clothes, belongings."

Sarah stared at her blankly. Flo shook her head. This one really needed some help. "Well, do you at least have a coat? It can get pretty cold out at night, even this time of year."

Sarah shook her head. "No. No coat."

Flo patted the girl’s shoulder. "Well, you wait here, then. I think I can find you something from the stuff in the back."

Going to the back room, Flo sorted through the donated clothing bins until she came up with a simple blue spring jacket. It wasn’t the warmest thing in the world, but people wouldn’t start donating winter clothes for a few weeks yet. It would have to do. She brought the jacket back to Sarah, who was just finishing the last of her breakfast.

"Here you go. Now keep this on if you can. If you take it off and put it down, someone will probably swipe it." She draped the coat over Sarah’s shoulders.

She pulled it tightly around her. "Thanks."

"You’re welcome, honey." The place was starting to fill up with regular visitors. "Well, I’ve got to get to work feeding some of these people. You can hang around for a while if you want."

"No, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to keep looking."

Flo shook her head again. "All right, but you come back here tonight around dinner time, okay? We’ll make sure you get another good meal."

Sarah nodded, and rose to her feet. Picking up her plate, she looked around the room. Flo smiled. "Here, I’ll take that. Someone sure trained you well."

"’Course," Sarah replied. "Best training in the world."

Wondered what on earth she was talking about, Flo watched Sarah head for the door. Definitely a strange one!

JAG HQ – 13:00 EST

Harm was going to go insane, and it wasn’t going to be quietly, either. As much as he might like to believe it would, the whole world didn’t stop because Mac was missing. He still had a job to do, and he had to do it properly. Even if it did take him three tries to get the simplest task right!

He wadded up another ruined photocopy and tried again, this time checking the reduction setting. The Montgomery case would be going ahead the day after tomorrow. He was pretty sure he had everything in order, but pretty sure wouldn’t cut it going up against Sturgis.

They’d already discussed it and decided that, despite the situation with Mac, they couldn’t justify another continuance. The UCMJ guaranteed Montgomery a swift trial, and it didn’t take into account the personal problems of the litigators. With his photocopies finally in hand, Harm returned to his office. He had to keep his mind on the job for a few more hours – somehow.

He hadn’t had any sleep in over twenty-four hours and it was beginning to show. It wasn’t yesterday he’d seen Mac in her apartment, like he’d said to the admiral, it was the day before. Only two days ago, he woke with Mac in his arms, now she was out there somewhere, alone and scared.

The instant his duty shift was over, Harm headed for home. He desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes. That took twenty minutes. He took an extra ten to grab a bite to eat, then dug out his handheld police scanner before heading out.

He drove a different route this time, checking areas he’d missed last night, until he simply couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. He thought about trying another cup of sludge-coffee, but decided against it. He wouldn’t do Mac any good at all if he cracked up the car trying to drive in his sleep.

Very reluctantly, he pointed the car for home. He checked his answering machine the moment he walked through the door. The steady red light glared at him, indicating no messages. Stripping off his coat, he heaved it across the room. Helpless frustration welled up inside him as he stumbled up the stairs and dropped onto the bed. Exhaustion finally drove the memories and the imagination-fired images from his mind, letting him drop into a hard, dreamless sleep.

She searched all day, wandering the streets until the throbbing pain in her head forced her to stop. She found a tiny park, not much more than a patch of grass with one lone tree in the middle, but it was a peaceful place to rest. As the day wore on, she was plagued by the nagging feeling that she was supposed to be somewhere, but she couldn’t remember where. Somehow though, she knew that wherever it was, he wouldn’t be there, so it didn’t matter anyway.

As it started to get dark, she wearily moved on. She needed a safe place to spend the night and the only one she knew was the same place she’d spent the previous night, so she started working her way back there, but the blinding pain made it hard to concentrate. She lost her way several times before she finally found the alley.

Exhausted, she slid to the ground, her back against the hard concrete wall. Pulling her new coat tightly around her, she closed her eyes, desperately willing the pain to subside enough to let her sleep.

What felt like only moments later, she awoke to someone shaking her shoulder. "Sarah? Hey, Sarah."

Groggy, she struggled to focus on the concerned face looking down at her. "It’s me, Flo. We had breakfast together yesterday, remember?"

She nodded slowly.

"You were supposed to come back for dinner last night but you didn’t show up. I got worried so I’ve been looking for you all morning." She held out her hand. "Come on. Want some breakfast?"

It was then that she realized it was morning already. It was time to start searching again. She had to find the man who haunted her dreams, his warm gaze and gentle smile following her through the bizarre world that waited for her when she closed her eyes. She took the woman’s hand, letting her pull her up.

Flo helped Sarah to her feet and guided her out of the alley. It darn near broke her heart when she finally found Sarah sleeping in the alley. "I thought you said you had a place to stay."

"I do. There." She pointed back to the dingy corner of the alley.

"I meant a safe place, somewhere warm."

Sarah shrugged.

"Well, come on. Let’s get you fed."

Flo gently guided Sarah down the street to the mission. As expected, she tackled her breakfast ravenously. Flo watched her and wondered again who she was. "Where did you go yesterday?"

"Everywhere. I was searching for him."

This again. "Did you remember his name?"

"No," she admitted hesitantly, "but he...he gave me this." She plucked at the material of her shirt.

"So he’s a navy man, then. Honey, he’s not some sailor that promised you the world then shipped out is he?"

Sarah frowned. "No...he...he went to sea, but...he came back."

Flo shook her head, her heart going out to the poor woman. As confused as she was, she certainly didn’t belong on the streets. Maybe this was one time when Social Services was a better option. She would talk—

A loud crash from the kitchen had Flo on her feet and moving in an instant. She charged into the kitchen to find the floor covered in water. Joey, a street-kid volunteer she’d taken under her wing last month, stood in the middle of the mess, staring at the large pot lying at his feet.

"I’m...I’m sorry," he stammered.

"It’s okay, mistakes happen, but let’s get this cleaned up, okay?"

His head bobbed quickly.

It took a few minutes to get the water mopped up and help Joey fill another one and put it safely on the stove. As soon as they were done, Flo hurried back out to the dining hall. Sarah was gone.

JAG HQ – 10:43 EST

Scribbling the last few notes in the file, Harm slammed it shut, set it aside and sprang to his feet. Although he’d slept surprisingly well, he’d woken up early. Arriving at the office just after seven gave him a chance to get ahead in his casework.

The admiral admitted him the moment he knocked. Harm strode to the desk and stood rigidly at attention.

"At ease, Commander. What can I do for you?"

"Sir, I’d like permission to take some time off today. My case files are all up to date and I’ve got nothing pending until the Montgomery trial tomorrow."

The admiral regarded him silently for a long moment, then let out a pent up breath. "I assume you’ll be joining the search?"

"Yes sir. I thought I’d canvas some of the shelters."

Admiral Chegwidden nodded. "All right, Commander." Harm turned to go but the admiral stopped him. "And Commander?" Harm turned back. "Good luck."

Harm was out the front door of the building less than five minutes later. Armed with a photo of Mac, he checked the list of shelters Harriett had given him, located the addresses on a map and decided on a game-plan.

The first three shelters were a bust, but they were one hell of an eye opener. Filled with the helpless and the hopeless of every age, race and gender, they were depressing, disheartening places. Fighting to keep a positive attitude, he headed for the fourth shelter on his list.

He arrived just after twelve o’clock and the place was teeming with people, most waiting in line for a bowl of soup and a stale, day-old bun. He showed the photo to several people in line, but no one recognized her. Clamping down on his frustration, Harm showed the picture to one of the volunteers who was putting condiments on the table.

He wiped his hands on his apron and took the picture, examining it closely. "That sort of looks like the girl Flo brought in this morning."

"Who’s Flo?" Harm asked quickly, his heartbeat kicking up a notch.

The young man waved toward the front of the line. "That’s her, serving the soup."

"Thanks." Harm took the photo and hurried over to the heavyset black woman. "Excuse me. I’m looking for a friend." He held up the photo.

The woman’s face lit up. "Hey, that’s Sarah."

Harm’s heart soared. "Yes! Was she here?"

"Sure was. I brought her in for breakfast both yesterday and today."

"Do you know where she is now?" He couldn’t get the words out fast enough.

The woman shook her head. "Sorry. She left here this morning and I haven’t seen her since. She said she was looking for someone. Hey, I bet you’re him!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she said she was looking for the guy who gave her the shirt she’s wearing. It’s a Navy sweatshirt."

The shirt! It hadn’t occurred to him until now, but the shirt he’d dug out for her after the shower was the USN sweatshirt he’d given her last year.

The woman shook her head sadly. "But she’s awfully confused. She couldn’t remember your name, just that you gave her that shirt."

Harm pulled out a business card and scribbled his cell number on the back. "If you see her again, please call me immediately. She needs medical attention as soon as possible."

The woman took the card and tucked it into her pocket. "If you don’t find her by tonight, come back here. I think I know where she’ll go to sleep."

Harm could have kissed her! "Thank you. I will."

He charged outside, determined to search the neighborhood till he found her. As he walked, he pulled out his cell phone and called the DC police, alerting them and asking them to keep a closer eye out in this area. A moment later, he heard the update over the handheld scanner he’d tucked in his pocket this morning.

He started a grid pattern, going up one street and down the next in an ever widening circle around the mission. His heart racing, he let his long stride eat up the distance, while still keeping a sharp eye on every face he saw. The woman at the mission said Mac was confused, but she was looking for him. His heart turned over as he tried to imagine what must be going on in her mind.

He walked for hours, covering mile after mile. If Mac was confused and searching blindly, there was no telling where she might have gone. By the time dusk began to claim the sky, he was miles from the mission. He turned to go back there, praying the woman was right about where Mac would go for the night.

As she had yesterday, she spent the day searching, but the pain was getting so bad, she wasn’t able to cover nearly as much ground this time. Weary and nearly blinded by the pain, she managed to find her way back to the street where the alley was just as darkness was beginning to descend. Welcoming the relief from the blinding light, she hurried toward the entrance.

Half a block away, she heard a shout and looked up. Two men in uniforms were jogging toward her. She didn’t recognize the uniforms, but the men were definitely yelling at her. "Hey, lady, stop! We want to talk to you!"

Fear gripped her. This had happened before – many times. She didn’t know why, but she knew she shouldn’t let these strange men capture her. Instinct and training kicked in and she bolted for the alley.

She was on their turf. There might be more of them waiting at the other end of the alley. Somehow, she had to get the upper hand and that meant going on the offensive. A short distance down the alley, she ducked behind the garbage bin, listening to the pounding footfall growing louder and louder. Like most teams, one of the men was faster than the other. She was counting on that. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself and as the first man came level with the bin, she leapt out, smashing an elbow into his face. He dropped like a rock.

Yanking his sidearm from his belt, she leapt back a few paces and leveled it at the second member of the team as he skidded to a halt over his fallen companion. "Don’t move!" she screamed. "Keep away from me!"

Impatient to get back to the mission, Harm hailed a cab, knowing he ran the risk of missing Mac if she was on the street somewhere between here and there, but the woman sounded so sure she knew where Mac would go. He’d barely settled himself on the back seat of the cab when his scanner crackled to life. It was the report of a woman holding two officers at bay with a gun in an alley. He recognized the address as being not far from the mission. "We think it might be that Marine colonel everyone’s been looking for."

Harm’s heart leapt into his throat. Slapping the driver on the shoulder, he ordered him to boot it.

The cab screeched to a halt a few moments later but Harm bailed out before it even came to a complete stop. He spun around the corner into the alley, pulling up short at the flurry of activity in the middle of the lane. A police cruiser was parked nose-first, with both doors open. There were two officers crouched behind the open doors, while two more stood out in the open a little farther down.

Then he saw her.

Mac stood in the shadows, her shoulder propped against a garbage bin, a pistol aimed directly at the two exposed officers. Harm ducked down behind the officer on the passenger side of the car. "Who’s in charge here?"

"I am," the cop growled, glancing briefly over his shoulder. "Who are you?"

"I’m Commander Harmon Rabb, and that woman down there is my partner."

"Well, your partner’s got a few screws loose, Commander. She assaulted a police officer and took his weapon."

"Look, she’s suffering from a brain tumor. She doesn’t know what’s going on. I’ll bet she felt threatened and her training kicked in. Let me talk to her."

"Not a chance. If she’s as well-trained as you say she is, then she knows how to use that gun."

"Oh, she knows how to use it, all right, but she’d never use it on me." Harm’s voice was filled with utter confidence.

The cop looked at him for a moment, deciding. "All right, but do it from here." He shuffled over, letting Harm get closer to the door. He moved up, peering out from behind the door. "Mac! Mac, can you hear me?"

Even from a distance, he could see her stiffen, her attention swinging toward the car, but it only lasted a moment, then she turned back to the two officers she held at gunpoint.

"Mac!" he called again.

Again her attention flickered toward him, but didn’t stay.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly rose to his feet. Ignoring the pawing hand of the officer behind him, he stepped out from behind the car door, his hands held out to the sides. "Mac, it’s me. It’s Harm."

This time, her attention stuck, but he knew the two officers were still in danger. She had incredible peripheral vision. Slowly, he began moving toward her. "It’s me, Mac. It’s Harm. I want to talk to you."

"Harm?" Her voice came out thin and tentative.

"That’s right. Can I come over there?"

"I...I don’t know!" She swung the gun toward him, then back to the officers. "I...I’m confused."

"I know you are," he said gently, moving steadily closer. Just a few more feet and he’d be close enough to grab her. "I can help you with that."

"Stop!" she ordered suddenly. "Don’t come closer. Who are you?"

His heart sank. "It’s me, Mac. It’s Harm."

He was close enough to see her clearly now. Her eyes were filled with fear and confusion. The tension in her was tight enough to make the tendons stand out in her neck. He risked another step forward. "Mac, come on. Give me the gun."

"No. I...I don’t know."

It was time to play his trump card. He flashed her a smile. "Hey, why are you holding a gun on me? I’m the guy who gave you that shirt."

She went completely still, staring at him. The barrel of the gun dropped slightly. "Harm?" she whispered, her expression beginning to crumble. "I...help me."

He took another step forward and closed his hand over the gun, easing it from her hand. She collapsed against his chest. He threw his arms around her, holding her in a fierce embrace. He was only vaguely aware of the police officers descending on them. One took the gun from his hand but he ignored them, holding Mac and rocking her as she sobbed.

"It’s all right," he whispered. "Everything is going to be all right. You’re safe now. I’ve got you and I won’t ever let go again."

He was here. She hadn’t found him, it was the other way around, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was here. He held her tightly against him, his warmth and his scent so achingly familiar. His voice, his eyes: she knew them, and not just from the wild and disjointed dreams. The memory went deeper, way down inside her to that place she couldn’t quite reach.

He was taking her somewhere, still holding her tucked against his side, protecting her from the strangers all around them. "No," she heard him say, "she’s going straight to the hospital."

The other man tried to argue, but he pushed past him, keeping himself between her and the man. "I don’t give a damn about your jurisdiction. She’s not a criminal, she’s ill, now get an ambulance down here, damn it!"

Ill? She didn’t feel ill, well, other than the pain that wouldn’t go away. "It hurts," she said softly, pressing a hand to her head.

"I know it does," he replied gently, "but we’re going to fix that. Just hang on a few more minutes. We’ll get you to the hospital."

Hospital? She didn’t like the sound of that. Stiffening, she tried to pull back as he led her up the alley. He stopped, tightening his arm around her. "Come on, it’s all right."

"I...I don’t want to go."

He turned, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking down at her. His eyes were bright and shiny. Strangely, moisture gathered in the corners, as though he was going to cry. "Mac, listen to me. We have to get you to the hospital, but I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? I promise you. You’re going to be okay." His hands gripped her shoulders hard but his voice was suddenly rough and scratchy. "Let me help you."

Slowly, she nodded, falling back on the deep trust she felt when she looked at him. He meant what he said. She was certain of that.

They emerged from the alley just as an ambulance pulled up at the curb. She hesitated again, but when he gently urged her forward, she went. He helped her climb into the back and lie down on the bed. Then two men, medics she thought, descended on her, pushing him out of the way.

She struggled to sit up. "No! Harm! Come back!"

She saw him squeeze between the two medics. "I’m right here. Just let them look at you. I won’t be far away, I promise."

Nervously, she waited while the medics poked and prodded her, shining a light in her eyes, listening to her heart and checking her breathing. At last, they moved away and Harm came back. She caught his hand and clung to it. He hung on just as tightly as the ambulance started to move.

With Mac clinging to his hand, he nudged one of the medics with his elbow. "Can I use my cell phone?"

"Not right now," the man answered, "but we’re only a couple minutes away from the hospital."

Harm nodded. When they pulled into the hospital a few minutes later, he walked beside the stretcher as they wheeled Mac inside. Dr. Norman was waiting for them. "We’re taking her straight upstairs for a CT scan. You’ll have to wait down here."

Harm leaned over the stretcher, gently stroking her hair, hoping no one noticed how badly his hand was shaking. "You have to let go of my hand for a few minutes, Mac, but I promise you, when they’re done, I’ll be here, okay?"

"I don’t want to," she whispered. "They’re going to take me away."

"Only for a few minutes," he assured her. "You trust me, don’t you?"

She nodded.

"I swear to you, I’ll be here when they’re done. Just let them examine you, okay?"

Very slowly, she nodded again, her hand slipping from his as they wheeled her away. Spinning on his heel, he broke for the door, desperate for some fresh air to clear the huge lump from his throat.

When he finally regained enough control, he yanked the cell phone out of his pocket and hit the speed dial. Tiner answered on the first ring. "Let me speak to the admiral, ASAP."

A moment later, Chegwidden came on the line. "Commander, any news?"

"Yes sir. I found her. I’m at the hospital now. They’re taking her upstairs for a CT scan."

"How is she?" the admiral fired.

"Confused, scared. Admiral, I think I’m the only thing she finds familiar, so I’m going to stay here till she’s a little more comfortable with everything."

"I can be there in a few minutes."

"Sir, I don’t think there’s any need. I’ll keep you updated."

Chegwidden heaved an audible sigh. "All right, Commander. I’ll pass the word along."

"Thank you, sir. I’ll call as soon as I know more." He clicked off the phone and sagged onto the ledge of a cement planter. It was finally over. Mac was safe. Now, as long as the delay didn’t cause any complications with the tumor, she would be back to her old self in no time.

It seemed like hours before Dr. Norman finally came into the waiting area. Harm got to his feet, meeting him in the middle of the room. "I’ve looked over the results from the CT scan. I’m certainly glad the delay wasn’t any longer than it was."

"Will she be all right?" Harm asked quickly.

"We’re going into surgery first thing in the morning. It may be slightly more complicated now, but I’m still fairly confident."

The doctor’s words weren’t nearly as encouraging as he probably meant them to be. Harm was having trouble drawing a full breath. "Can I see her?"

"She’s been sedated. She’ll probably sleep till morning."

"Doesn’t matter," he said bluntly. "I made her a promise."

Norman nodded, his expression full of understanding. "I’ll show you to her room."

A few minutes later, Harm slipped into a chair at Mac’s bedside. She was sleeping soundly, but even in sleep, she looked weary and worn. Harm swallowed hard against a fresh wave of sorrow. Mac was probably the strongest woman he knew. Her past held horrors he couldn’t begin to comprehend, but she’d come through it all. It just wasn’t fair that she had to suffer this on top of everything else. She’d been through enough, damn it. It was time she had some peace.

Hours later, Harm was dozing in his chair when a soft sound filtered down through the fog. His head sprang up. Mac was struggling to fight off the sedation. She moaned softly, shifting restlessly under the light covers. Coming out of his chair, Harm lifted a hip and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Harm?" she mumbled.

Taking her hand, he gently brushed the hair from her eyes. "Shhh. I’m here."

She calmed immediately, slipping back into sleep, but he continued to sit with her, getting as much comfort as he gave. He stayed at her side until the nurses came to prep her for surgery at 05:30. He watched them efficiently rigging the bed to be moved but as one of them reached to release the wheel brakes, a sudden desperation gripped him. "Wait!"

They stopped, looking at him expectantly.

"Can I... Would you give us a moment?"

The head nurse’s expression softened. "All right, but only a moment." She nodded to the other two nurses and they withdrew quietly from the room.

Cursing the sudden quaking in his hands, Harm picked up Mac’s hand, watching it disappear in his own. He leaned close. "Hey, Marine. It’s time to go, but you’ll be okay. You’re in good hands. Everything will be fine." He swallowed hard, fighting a wave of emotion that threatened to swamp him. Very gently, he kissed her forehead, whispering, "I’ll see you soon."

Drawing away, he strode to the door, yanking it open and brushing quickly past the waiting nurses before any of them could see the moisture in his eyes.

Part 2