A JAG Fan-fiction Story © 2003 Sheri Mitchell
	Mac learns the brutal reality of the phrase "too little, too late".
	Rated: R	Language and Content
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Fear gripped Mac’s heart. "How long has he been missing?"

"He’s not necessarily missing, Colonel," the admiral said firmly. "He failed to make contact at the specified time. There’s a difference."

Semantics! she wanted to yell. Something had obviously gone wrong with Harm’s mission and they were standing here arguing semantics! She took a deep breath and spoke with a calm she didn’t feel. "What’s our next move, sir?"

"His next check-in is due in..." He glanced at his watch. "Ten minutes. If they haven’t heard from him in forty, Mission Ops at the Mountain Warfare Training Center has orders to call me."

"And if they do call?" she prompted, struggling to keep the edge of fear from her voice.

"Then someone from this office will be on the next flight to California." He fixed her with a penetrating gaze. "I assume you’d prefer if it were you."

Mac snapped to attention. "Yes sir."

"I thought so. Dismissed."

She couldn’t hide her surprise. "Sir?"

"I said dismissed, Colonel. I’ll speak with you again in forty minutes."

"Aye-aye, sir." Turning crisply, she strode from the room, maintaining her rigid posture until she reached the safety of her office. Dropping into her chair, she leaned on the desk and took a few deep steadying breaths.

This was supposed to be a quick in-and-out undercover mission to investigate a Marine major’s alleged involvement with a band of militia training in the California mountains. No one expected Harm to be gone more than a few days. So what had gone wrong? The more practical side of her said there were a hundred reasons why he could have missed his call-in, none of which were cause for the deep-seated fear skittering up and down her spine. She had to get a grip on herself and remember that. Her imagination was running away with her.

Mac’s internal clock ticked away relentlessly until she finally couldn’t stand it anymore. After forty-five minutes, she pushed to her feet and headed back to the admiral’s office. PO Tiner looked up as she entered the outer office. "The admiral is on the phone, ma’am."

The fist around Mac’s heart squeezed a little tighter. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. "He probably won’t be long," she said quietly. "I’ll wait."

As expected, she didn’t have long to wait. Just over two minutes later, the admiral’s gruff voice issued from the intercom. "Tiner, have Col. MacKenzie join me."

Mac rapped on the door and entered the office before the admiral had the last word out. He looked a little startled but recovered quickly.

"I just got off the phone with Mission Ops. Cmdr. Rabb missed another check in." The admiral’s voice was taut with restrained concern.

Mac nodded, not trusting her voice as she suppressed another wave of trepidation. She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. "Sir, permission to—"

"Granted," he replied, not bothering to let her finish. "With him out of contact, I need another JAG officer to take the point on this investigation. Mission Ops is expecting you."

She turned to go but the admiral’s voice called her back. "And Colonel..." Uncharacteristically, he hesitated. "Keep me informed."

In those three words, Mac heard all of the things the admiral did not say – could not say. She nodded. "Count on it, Admiral."

Less than two hours later, Mac was on a flight to Bridgeport, CA. Settling back in her seat, she removed a file from her carryon bag. Although she remembered discussing the case with Harm before he left, this was a good time to re-familiarize her with it.

Maj. Peter Johansen was a highly trained tactical weapons specialist, currently stationed the Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center. He was under investigation for his alleged involvement with an outlaw militia group called Freedom’s Voice. The group had been around for years but until recently, it had been nothing more than a minor annoyance.

Six months ago, however, government intelligence on the group had shown an increased militancy and a definite change in the quality of their training and tactics. All of this occurred shortly after Johansen was passed over for promotion. His CO at the Training Center, Col. Kwan, noted Johansen’s resentment and a sudden slip in the man’s performance. Later, surveillance on the militia group had show Johansen meeting with a known member of band.

When the long flight was over, Mac suffered through another stretch of down-time during the drive to the Training Center. As soon as she arrived, she reported to the CO and he filled in more of the details for her. "Infiltrating the militia group was Cmdr. Rabb’s idea. He felt we didn’t have enough evidence to confront Johansen directly. He was afraid all it would do is spook the group into going to ground. With the training Johansen has given them, they’re too great a threat to ignore now."

Mac nodded, remembering the admiral outlining the group’s growing militancy when he told her about Harm’s undercover mission. "How was Cmdr. Rabb making contact with you?"

"Through a small transmitter. Its range is limited, but we have a repeater located in the bush close to the area we suspect Freedom’s Voice is using as a training ground."

Mac stared at the colonel. "You know where they are?"

He rose from his chair and pointed to a map hanging on the wall behind the desk. "We suspect they have a training facility somewhere in this area." He used one finger to draw a large circle on the map. "The problem is, we don’t know exactly where within that area. Before Cmdr. Rabb suggested the undercover mission, I was planning to hold training exercises in the area with the covert plan of trying to locate the camp."

"Are you going to run those exercises now?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I’m reluctant to. If Cmdr. Rabb has been compromised and is being held captive, our sniffing around in the area may put him in greater danger."

Mac heaved a mental sigh of relief. She was worried about the same thing, but if they didn’t send in a team to locate the camp, how were they supposed to—

A plan popped, fully formed, into her head. She mulled it over for all of two seconds, then turned to the CO. "Colonel, I have a suggestion."

Admiral AJ Chegwidden listened with growing apprehension as Mac outlined her idea on the phone. "I don’t like it, Colonel. It’s too risky."

"It’s not as risky as sending in a team, sir. One person stands a pretty good chance of getting in and out without being detected."

"From what Col. Kwan described, it sounds like a pretty big area to search. What makes you think one person can cover that much ground?" AJ asked, hoping to deter her and knowing it wouldn’t work.

"Some of the terrain is pretty rugged, sir. I’ll check the most likely locations first," she answered quickly.

AJ let out a breath that was almost a sigh. "All right, Colonel. Do your recon, but I do not want you taking any unnecessary risks, is that understood?"

"Yes sir," she replied.

"Keep me informed," he said gruffly, wishing he was there taking part in this instead of being stuck behind the oak monstrosity he called a desk.

"Will do, Admiral."

AJ punched the disconnect on the speaker phone and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t like this one bit, but Col. MacKenzie had made her point well. That damned smooth persuasiveness of hers is what made her such a good lawyer, but AJ really hated it when she used it on him.

CALIFORNIA MOUNTAINS – NEAR MWTC – 06:20 PST

Finishing one last check on her gear, Mac closed up the pack and slung it over her shoulders. She stuffed a map and compass in a convenient pocket of her camouflage utility uniform then turned to Col. Kwan waiting in the jeep’s passenger seat. "My first check-in is scheduled for six hours from now, but if I find anything sooner, I’ll contact you, sir."

He nodded. "I’d be surprised if Freedom’s Voice has the technology to intercept our transmissions, but we can’t be absolutely certain. Don’t risk it unless it’s something critical. I’ll be on hand in Mission Ops at your scheduled check-in time so we can keep the communication as short as possible."

"Yes sir." Stepping back, she offered him a sharp salute. He acknowledged it with a nod and Mac turned toward the trailhead.

She already had a mental map constructed and set out at an even but brisk pace. Her first goal was to get to a ridge near here that would provide a view of the valley below. The small but vigorous river running through the valley made it a natural choice for a base camp.

She hiked steadily for several hours, stopping only long enough to take a few swigs from her canteen. At this high altitude, the heat wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was still warm enough to make her shed the outer shirt of her uniform, leaving only the khaki tee shirt. She had opted to leave behind all rank and insignia that would identify her as a Marine on the off chance that she was captured. Explaining her presence would be difficult, but giving herself away as a Marine would be fatal.

It was approaching noon when she finally reached the top of the ridge. Moving along it, she quickly found an open area that afforded an unobstructed view of the valley stretched out below. Pulling off her pack, she dug out a pair of binoculars and slowly scanned the valley. Throughout most of the valley, the thick coniferous forest formed a dense green mat almost to the edge of the river, but there were several small clearings dotting the far side. She combed each of these closely, but from this distance, even high powered field glasses couldn’t reveal enough detail.

With a frustrated sigh, she lowered the glasses, letting her unassisted gaze slide over the valley one more time. Harm was down there somewhere. She could feel it. Virtually from the moment they met, she’d been peripherally aware of some strange kind of radar that told her where he was. In close proximity, it was so strong she could look up in a crowded room and pick him out instantly. It had also allowed her to find him within thousands of miles of open ocean.

Mac longed to be able to simply pull out her map and stick her finger on it, confident that that was where he would be, but it wasn’t working like that this time. She knew he was out there in this forest, and she knew he was close, but that was all.

She had never questioned this sixth sense of hers, not where Harm was concerned. It was just another aspect of their complex and multifaceted relationship. That relationship had been an enigma almost from the beginning. It was, at times simultaneously, the source of her greatest joy and her deepest pain. In her most private thoughts, she dreamed of peeling back the layers of that relationship one at a time, exploring the strong bond she had with this man until everything was laid bare at last.

But they never had. They rode the currents of their sometimes stormy relationship, each locked behind their own set of barriers.

Pushing away the unproductive musings, she lifted the binoculars again, this time scanning the forest on this side of the river. Here, too, there were several small clearings. These were much closer and the binoculars revealed far more detail. Staring hard through the glasses, she examined one such clearing almost directly below her. The binoculars weren’t quite powerful enough to make her certain, but it appeared as though the grass had been trampled down in several places.

At first, she thought the disturbances were merely places where deer had perhaps bedded down for the night, but many of them were near the center of the clearing. She wasn’t an expert on animal behavior but it seemed unlikely that flighty animals would lie down that far out in the open. Lowering the glasses, she made a snap decision. The clearing would be her next target.

First, however, she needed to contact Mission Ops. The chances for a clear signal were far greater from up here than they would be once she dropped below the ridge.

Stuffing the binoculars back into her pack, she removed the small radio transmitter and switched it on. She was greeted by a burst of static. The unit was too small to have much in the way of adjustments, but she tinkered as best she could until the static faded slightly.

It took three tries before she finally got through. The radio operator immediately passed her over to Col. Kwan. His voice came through the static, but just barely. "Can you read me?"

"Just barely," she admitted.

"We’re having a problem with the repeater," came the crackly reply. "It’s signal strength is down to forty percent."

"Could that explain why Cmdr. Rabb wasn’t able to contact you?" she asked quickly, praying it was something that simple.

"Negative," Kwan replied, dashing her hopes. "The repeater’s signal strength was at ninety-eight percent at the time of his last check in."

"Damn," she breathed.

"Anything to report?" Kwan asked.

"Not yet, sir. I’m going to work my way down the far slope to check out a couple of clearings near the river."

"Once you drop below the ridge, we’ll lose contact with you," he pointed out. "We have a team ready to leave to check out and hopefully repair the repeater, but they won’t have it done in time for your next call-in."

Mac absorbed this. "Then I guess I’m on my own. Don’t worry about me, Colonel. I’ll check out the valley then make my way to high ground again. I don’t know for sure how long that will take, but I’ll attempt to reach you when I do."

"Understood, but I don’t like the idea of you being out of communication," he replied over the static.

"Can’t be helped, sir."

"Just be careful, Colonel. I do not want to have to explain to Admiral Chegwidden how I lost another of his officers. Kwan out."

Returning the radio to her pack, she closed it up and slung it over her shoulders. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being out of touch either, but there was no way she would even consider turning back. Kwan must have known that, or he would have suggested it. He could have ordered her back, and the fact that he didn’t reminded her that he was just as worried about Harm as she was.

Setting off, she started working her way toward the clearing. It was easier to make good time moving downhill but she knew it was still going to take another couple of hours to get down to the clearing. Every tick of her internal clock kicked her fear up another notch. The longer Harm was out of contact, the greater the chances were that he was in serious trouble.

Twilight was beginning to gather by the time Mac reached the edge of the clearing she’d seen from the ridge. Darkness came early this high in the mountains and she had already decided that as soon as she had checked out the clearing, she would find a spot to hunker down for the night. In the morning, she would climb to high ground and try the radio.

As she approached the clearing, the hair on the back of her neck prickled sharply. Wanting more freedom of movement, she took off her pack and stowed it safely in hollow at the base of a tree. She also checked her sidearm left the holster strap undone before moving cautiously to the edge of the clearing.

At first, it appeared to be nothing more than a small meadow, a welcome patch of grass for the forest creatures, but as she looked more closely, she could see a definite pattern to the flattened areas. It looked as though several tents had been set up here recently. She advanced slowly, her gaze casting over the ground as she went. A tiny bit of paper here, a small piece of plastic there, all were convincing signs that it was humans who had last occupied this clearing.

Circling the edges, she looked for any indication of which way they may have gone when they departed. She was almost halfway around the meadow when she spotted a bright shiny object in the grass. Kneeling, she fished it out of the grass. A shell casing.

Ruthlessly, Mac suppressed the shudder that went through her. The round was a nine millimeter. That came from a handgun, not a rifle, so she couldn’t even tell herself it was evidence of a little out-of-season hunting. There was no question about it. She had found—

A pair of hands grabbed her roughly from behind, yanking her off balance before she could react. Twisting sharply, she tried to pull away. She struck out with her elbow but missed connecting with her assailant’s stomach as he twisted in the opposite direction. Before she could more than register the fact that she was under attack, the strong hands and beefy arms wrestled her to the ground.

Taken by surprise and overpowered so quickly, Mac didn’t have a chance. She struggled a few minutes longer but couldn’t break away from her attacker long enough to land a decent blow. Two powerful hands wrenched her arms behind her back, pinning her wrists together. Holding her securely that way, he gave her a hard shake. "Who are you?"

She tried to twist around and at least get a look at the man, but he gave a savage yank on her arms. Pain shot through her shoulders and she quit struggling.

"I asked you a question! Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Defiantly, Mac kept her mouth shut.

With a growl of frustrated anger, the man gave her a shove, pushing her ahead of him and directing her through the trees.

Stumbling along in front of him, Mac couldn’t even get a good look at her assailant, but she knew he was tall – almost as tall as Harm – but with a much heavier build. He shoved her ahead of him, guiding her over a barely defined path through the bush. After nearly fifteen minutes, he pushed her out into a small opening in the trees. It took her a moment to realize it was a cleverly concealed compound, with several small cabins set just inside the tree line.

Several men were standing around, all dressed in fatigues. Her captor called to one of them. "Get the major!"

The man disappeared into one of the larger cabins, slamming the door behind him. A moment later, it opened again and a shadowy figure appeared. A man stepped out and Mac immediately recognized from the photos she’d seen in Mission Ops. It was Maj. Johansen. Behind him came another shadowed figure and relief flooded through Mac as a tall, achingly familiar form stepped into the doorway. Harm paused a moment then moved out into the sunshine.

His piercing blue-gray eyes scanned the compound but came to an abrupt halt when they landed on Mac. She saw the momentary shock that skimmed across his features, but he recovered so quickly she was certain no one else saw it. The man who had dragged her into the compound went over to Johansen, gesturing back toward her. "I found her sneaking around the edge of that clearing we used the other day. She won’t tell me who she is or what she’s doing here."

Harm’s eyes never left hers as he spoke up before Johansen could reply. "If she did, she’d be dead."

Johansen turned to him, shock and apprehension warring each other for a place on his features. Harm continued, again without taking his gaze from her. "She’s one of my people. If she’d told you anything, I’d kill her for being so stupid. I probably should anyway."

He advanced toward her, every move laced with a cocky confidence. "What are you doing here, McKinley? I told you to stay in town." He stopped less than a foot in front of her and the look in his eyes abruptly changed to one of pleading regret. He quickly mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ but before Mac could figure out what he was apologizing for, the palm of his big right hand slammed into the side of her face.

It wasn’t a full force slap, but it was enough to snap her head to the side. "If you followed me because of what happened with Sandra in Reno, I may feed you to these guys anyway."

Mac was still reeling from the blow, not from the impact of it but from the shock of Harm raising his hand to her in any way. But she knew why he did it. He was concocting a cover story on the fly. Holding a hand to her stinging cheek, she did her best to look chastised. Harm still didn’t give her a chance to speak. He turned back to Johansen. "McKinley here is my best operative. She’s also my girlfriend and unfortunately, she’s a tad on the jealous side. She didn’t like the methods I used to...interview...a potential new female member of my little group."

For a moment, no one moved then slowly, Johansen’s expression broadened into a grin. "I’ve used those interview techniques myself a few times for female recruits."

Harm grinned back. "Then you see my problem."

Johansen’s smile faded. "No, I don’t. I was never stupid enough to get hooked up with a broad who didn’t know how to play the game."

"Oh, she knows how to play," Harm replied quickly, slipping an arm across Mac’s shoulders and dragging her against his side. "She just doesn’t know when to quit."

Tension rolled through Harm like a hot wind as he led Mac toward the tiny cabin he’d been assigned. Johansen had ordered them both to remain there while he decided what to do about Mac’s unexpected presence in their midst. The moment they were inside, he whirled on her, struggling to keep his voice down to a whisper. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"We were worried about you!" she hissed. "You missed two check-ins."

"The radio transmitter I had hidden in my boot didn’t survive an unexpected river crossing during a training session," he explained quickly. "It was no reason to panic and risk your neck coming here!"

"I didn’t panic!" she shot back. "When you failed to check in, Col. Kwan notified the admiral and he sent me out here to find out what was going on, and what the hell was that BS about me being your girlfriend?"

"It was the only way I could think of to justify getting you alone," he answered. "I...I’m sorry I slapped you. I had to make it...look good."

"I know," she replied softly.

"In a way I’m glad you’re here," he admitted. "Mac, this isn’t just some right-wing band of weekend warriors with a grudge against the IRS. These guys are determined, well-trained soldiers and they have a mission planned that will do some serious damage. The problem is, I don’t know yet what the target is or exactly what their plans are."

"If you’re part of his team, he’ll have to reveal the details eventually."

"But probably not in time to do anything about it," he replied. "I was going to try and slip into the main building tonight and see if I could find out what he’s got planned."
She shrugged. "So now you’ve got someone to act as a lookout."

"If he doesn’t decide to lock us both up till it’s all over – or worse." He couldn’t keep the hard edge from his voice. "What on earth possessed you to come up here alone?"

"It seemed safer for you than swarming the hills with Marines," she answered quickly. "If you’d been compromised..."

"I wasn’t before but now, who knows?" He saw the defiant tilt of her chin and the flash in her eyes and quickly raised his hands. "There’s no point debating it now. What’s done is done, and if he does buy my story, I can use your help tonight."

He watched as she struggled to power down that quick temper of hers. God, he’d missed her! The longing that shot through him caught by surprise, the force of it rocking him to the core.

He’d been on edge from the moment he’d made contact with Freedom’s Voice, but he hadn’t realized just how much until now. All of his senses were battle ready and he was keenly aware of everything around him, including Mac. The subtle scent of her, a mix of delicate perfume, fresh pine and sunshine, drifted to him on the slight breeze from the window’s ill-fitting shutters. He could hear the soft rasp of her breathing as she gazed at him, here eyes dark and stormy in the low light.

Instantly, he was swamped by the achingly familiar desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her until neither of them could breathe, but – as always – he quashed the feeling. Now was not the right time. It was never the right time.

Lamenting that fact, he tried to turn away, but she caught his arm, her palm warming his skin. Their eyes locked again in a long moment of searching. "I’m glad you’re all right," she whispered. "I...I had a bad feeling."

He slipped his hand over hers in a gesture that was completely inadequate and all that he could allow himself. "I’m fine."

He saw the effort it cost her to drag her gaze, and her hand, away. "What...what time do you want to try and get into the command building?"

"After lights-out. That’s usually about twenty-two hundred. If he does buy my story about you being my girlfriend, I’m going to try and convince him to let you sleep in here tonight. Go along with me on it. You’ll have to act like you...want me."

She nodded, but looked very uncomfortable. What bothered him was that he couldn’t tell if it was because she didn’t want to get that close to him, or because she did.

Mac tore her gaze from Harm’s as the thought of having to act like his lover bombarded her with a wave of conflicting emotion. They would have to fake something that had been her most secret wish for years. How were they going to mimic the searing desire that flowed beneath their relationship without losing the boundary between reality and play-acting?

All of this went through her mind in the space of a heartbeat. It was all the time she had to analyze her feelings. Beyond the door came a mutter of voices and the heavy thud of boots on the planks of the tiny front porch. Reacting without conscious thought, Mac spun toward Harm. At the same instant, he reached for her, pulling her against him. She wound her arms around his neck and lifted her face to him as he bent his head.

His mouth came down on hers in a searing kiss that instantly got away from them. It took everything she had in her to resist the urge to part her lips and invite him in. At the same time, she felt the fierce battle within him as he struggled against the desperate call to take the embrace beyond a simple mockery of the passion arcing between them.

She was almost glad when the door flew open and Harm leapt back as though startled. He kept one arm around her, holding her against his side as they both turned to Johansen. The heat from Harm’s body seeped into her own and with her hand on his chest, she could feel the frantic hammering of his heart but she didn’t know if it was from apprehension over Johansen’s stern frown or...something else.

Johansen’s piercing gaze darted between them for a moment before landing on Harm. "Put it away, Carter. You and your girlfriend can get your jollies later. Right now, you’re on my time."

Relief flooded through Mac. Johansen had bought Harm’s quickly concocted story. Now all they had to do was maintain the pretense. Harm slipped back into his cocky persona, giving her a squeeze and a ribald grin. "We’ll cool it for now, babe, but be ready for a long night."

She grinned back at him. "So long as these Neanderthals will give us a little privacy."

Harm’s smile took on an almost dangerous quality as he fixed Johansen with a penetrating gaze. "Count on it."

Johansen threw up a hand. "I don’t give a damn what you do on your own time, but when you’re on my clock, you stay focused or I’ll make sure neither of you ever leaves this mountain."

"Yeah, yeah," Harm replied flippantly. "If you’re so worried about the clock, what are we doing standing around?"

Before Johansen could reply, Harm started for the door, guiding Mac along with him. As they passed Johansen, his hand caught out and snagged Mac’s arm. "Not you. I still don’t trust you completely. Carter says you’re his best operative, but how do I know what you’ve got?"

Mac glanced down at his hand then stabbed him with a cold, hard look. "Take your hand off me or you’ll find out the hard way."

After a very long moment, he dropped his hand. "Robbins, take the lady outside and go through some of the basics. I want to know if she’s as good as Carter says she is."

She felt Harm’s one-armed embrace tighten around her and knew he’d heard the subtle double meaning in Johansen’s words. As Robbins moved forward, Harm stepped in front of him. "Test her combat skills all you like, she’ll probably enjoy an easy workout, but you touch her in any other way and I’ll take you apart, got it?"

Robbins looked him up and down. "For a guy who got caught with another woman, you sure seem possessive."

"Damn right I am!" Harm shot back. "What goes on between her and me is nobody’s business. We’ve got a job to do, so let’s get it done and get the hell out of here."

Johansen stepped forward. "He’s right. Test her skills, Robby, but that’s all."

As she stepped forward to follow Robbins, Mac felt the reluctance as Harm slowly let his arm slide off her shoulders. She let Robbins lead the way out to a small training area on the far side of the compound, sizing him up as they went. He was small and wiry. He would be strong, but not unbeatable.

She squared off against him but quickly discovered, much to her surprise, that he was very professional in his approach, testing her without making any overt attempt to hurt her. They went through the motions, sparing with various hand-to-hand combat techniques for over half an hour. He finally stepped back, wiping a fine sheen of sweat from his brow. "Not bad." He glanced at his watch. "It’s time to grab some chow. We’ll go out to the weapons range after we eat."

He led the way over to a water spigot anchored to a wooden post. Turning it on, he stuck his whole head under briefly then pulled away and shook off the water like a big shaggy dog. Mac got the idea and pulled off the bandana she’d tied around her head. Rinsing it thoroughly, she scrubbed down the best she could and then re-tied it around her neck. The damp coolness felt good against her heated skin.

Robbins shut off the water then led the way to a side door on the main building. Inside was a small mess hall, with two long rows of tables running the length of the room. She spotted Harm immediately, aware that his gaze had honed in on her the instant she’d come through the door. With an offhand glance at Robbins, she headed toward Harm. Maintaining a casual air, she slipped into the chair beside him.

"How’d it go?" he asked, his sharp blue-gray eyes skimming her body as though looking for damage.

"Great," she replied cheerfully. "You were right, it was an easy workout."

Her light comment was made with two things in mind. It would let Johansen know Robbins hadn’t found any reason to question her skills and it would ease Harm’s mind. Robbins was leaning over Johansen halfway down the other row of tables and with a glance in Mac’s direction, the group’s new leader nodded. Harm was almost as quick to relax, calmly reaching for a slice of bread from the plate in the center of the table.

"Better go get some grub," he commented. "It doesn’t last long around here."

Harm watched as she rose to go to the chow line. The tension in his gut slowly began to uncoil. It looked like the men had truly accepted her presence in camp and her role as a trained operative. They just might be able to pull this off after all.

When he first saw Johansen’s wariness, and the leering glances several of the men gave her, he hadn’t been too sure this was going to work. Although he’d met some female members of the group, none of them accompanied them up here to the training camp. Some of them seemed to act as support personnel, bringing in supplies occasionally, but it was clear none of them were actively training for whatever Johansen had in mind.

The normal routine was to continue training for a couple of hours in the evening then the men were given some free time before lights-out when the camp’s electricity generator was shut down. As soon as Johansen kicked them loose for the night, most of the men headed to the mess hall for the single beer Johansen allowed them. Harm caught Mac’s hand and directed her toward his cabin. To make it look good for anyone who might be watching them, he slid his hand over her firm round backside as they went through the door. He felt her tense instantly and pulled his hand away the moment they were inside.

He stepped a few feet away, putting some much needed space between them but staying close enough that they could talk quietly. "I’ve been able to confirm that Johansen took over leadership of the group just after he was passed over for promotion. He’s made a few sour remarks about the Marine Corps, but I don’t think the promotion was the sole reason he took leave and started training these guys."

"His service record and psych eval show some tendency toward radical thinking, but nothing serious until now," she replied, slipping onto a hard wooden chair beside the bed.

"He’s kept it hidden, but I think he’s been seriously subversive for quite a while. Losing that promotion was probably just the last straw."

"And you have no idea what he’s planning?"

He shook his head, frustration clawing at him. "Not really. We’ve been doing a lot of rappelling and rope work and a few of the men are training with explosives but I can’t pin down what the target might be. He has an office in the main building and I’m counting on some kind of documentation to give us at least an idea of what he’s got planned."

"Does he post a guard at night?" she asked.

"Sometimes, but not always. Just in case, we’d better plan on getting in and back out again quickly. He kills the generator after lights-out, but I managed to steal a small flashlight." He crossed to the bed and lifted the mattress, taking the flashlight out of the small space he’d created under the seam on the far side. Dropping the mattress back in place, he sat down on it.

Mac moved over to sit beside him, lowering her voice even further. "How long does it take everyone to settle down?"

"Not long. They’re usually pretty tired. They’ve been training hard—"

A very soft squeak of the floorboards outside the door cut him off in mid-sentence. Mac’s eyes went wide as her gaze flew to the door then back to him. Stuffing the tiny flashlight into his pocket, Harm rolled, bringing his feet up onto the bed. "Come here," he whispered urgently, nearly dragging Mac across his chest.

She got the message immediately and stretched out on top of him, sliding her hands over his hair as her mouth crashed down on his. Heat instantly zinged through his body but even through the heady reaction, he heard the floorboard squeak again. It was a soft sound, created as the weight of a person outside shifted the boards and made them rub together inside the cabin. He doubted the person beyond the door knew he was making himself known.

Harm knew he needed to make this look good, in case their spy was able to see inside through one of the many gaps in the cabin’s worn chinking. Tilting his head to the side, he deepened the kiss, letting his hands slide up under the back of Mac’s tee shirt. Her skin was hot and dry and the softest thing Harm had ever touched. He just barely managed to stifle an involuntary groan and keep one tiny corner of his mind on the fact that they were only acting, that her hot, ardent response wasn’t real. But Lord, it felt that way!

A second later, there was a sharp rap on the door. Mac’s head flew up and he stilled his roaming hands. They glanced at each other for the space of a breath, her eyes as black as midnight. Harm sucked in a breath, and turned his eyes to the door. "Come in, but this had better be important!"

As the door started to open, Mac made a move to roll off him, but he tightened his embrace, holding her still. Robbins shoved the door open and stepped inside. "Johansen wanted me to tell you McKinley’s skills are good, but he’s not going to use her on the mission. When we go, she’ll be kept here till it’s over, then you two can hook up and do whatever you want."

Harm frowned. "The group isn’t reforming after the mission?"

Robbins shook his head. "We’re disbanding, at least till the fallout is over. If Johansen wants you back after that, he’ll let you know."

Harm gave a nonchalant gesture. It was hard to shrug with Mac still plastered on top of him. "Whatever. Couldn’t this have waited till morning? I’m a little...busy right now."

"I can see that," Robbins replied dryly. "Just don’t wear yourself out. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day."

"Why?" Mac asked quickly.

"That’s none of your business, sweetheart." He gave her a long, leering look then backed out, closing the door behind him. The floorboard squeaked again as he stepped off the porch. Mac held her pose a moment longer, then her entire body seemed to deflate. She dropped her head to his shoulder, letting out a long breath.

A strand of her hair dropped over Harm’s face, teasing him with a soft scent and a feather-light touch that stirred something deep inside him. Her breasts were pressed tightly against his chest, with only layers of light cotton between them. He couldn’t help it. His whole body tightened.

With her stretched out on top of him like this, he knew she would be able to feel his quick, hot response if he didn’t move fast. Shifting his hold on her, he rolled over, taking them both into a sitting position. She ended up sitting in his lap and he quickly slid sideways, nearly groaning at the feel of her firm round bottom dragging against him. The moment he was out from under her, he stood up, turning away and taking a few deep breaths to get himself squared away before he dared to face her.

"If you’re worried about me having to stay behind, don’t be." He heard the ragged edge to her voice and wondered if she was deliberately misinterpreting his silence. Whether she was or not didn’t matter. It gave him the chance to shift the focus back to where it belonged but his mind wasn’t as quick to let go of the scorching feel of her pressed so intimately against him.

"I am worried," he replied, turning finally. "But it doesn’t look like there’s much we can do about it."

They waited, none too patiently, until an hour after lights-out when the camp had settled into a quiet peacefulness that belied the violent nature of the men in it. Harm slowly opened the door, peering out into the compound. The pale glow of a nearly full moon filtered through the treetops, providing a faint illumination. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness inside the cabin and the moon’s thin light was more than enough to let him confirm that the compound was deserted. Turning back to Mac, he nodded then slipped outside.

So close behind him he could feel the warmth of her body, Mac followed as Harm made his way quickly across to the main building. She silently took up a position beside the door, her back pressed to the wall, and gave a brisk nod.

Yanking on the door, Harm ducked inside. As soon as the door closed, he flicked on the little flashlight and headed straight for Johansen’s office. He had only been in the room once, but remembered the two large maps hanging on the wall. There was one showing the local region and another that depicted the state of Nevada. As he glanced at them, he realized the Nevada map now had several markings on it that hadn’t been there before.

Pausing just long enough to absorb this, he turned to the desk. The top was barren and he prayed the drawers weren’t locked. They were.

Digging out his pocket knife, Harm went to work on the top drawer. He didn’t dare do any physical damage so it took longer than it could have, but the lock finally let go. Carefully taking out a sheaf of papers, he spread them out on the desk before training the light on them. He scanned the material quickly but as the information sank in, he stared at the words, willing them to somehow magically change, but nothing could alter the horror spread out in front of him.

Mac was beginning to get worried. Harm had been inside too long. If they didn’t— Before she could finish the thought, the door flew open and Harm charged out. He caught the door before it slammed against the wall, but just barely. Closing it quickly, he caught her hand, nearly dragging her across the compound. Something was desperately wrong. She could feel it in the tension pouring off him. When they got back to the cabin, he pulled her inside and flicked on the flashlight. In its pale light, she saw something in his eyes that she’d rarely ever seen – true fear.

"Harm, what is it? What’s wrong?"

"He’s going to poison the water supply for the entire city of Las Vegas," he whispered urgently. "The poison is already in place, installed by someone on the inside, but it needs an explosive detonator and their inside man couldn’t smuggle that in because of increased security. The mission is to break into the facility and detonate the canisters of poison."

"When?" Mac breathed, her blood turning to ice.

"Tomorrow night." His voice was filled with dread.

"We’ve got to get word to Col. Kwan. I hid my pack near the clearing where Johansen’s man found me. I’ve got a radio in it."

"Can you find it in the dark?" he asked quickly.

"I doubt it," she admitted reluctantly. "I’ll sneak out at first light."

"We’ll both go. There’s not much chance I can do anything to stop them from here. There are too many of them. You’re radio is the best chance we’ve got."

"We’ll leave at first light then." Mac wasn’t unhappy to know he would be getting out too. If Johansen discovered she was missing, Harm would be in real danger.

"Why don’t you try to get some sleep?" he suggested. "There’s nothing we can do until daybreak."

"You need some sleep too," she told him.

"I’m fine. I want to keep an eye on things. Besides, there’s only one bed."

Mac was about to remind him that they’d shared cramped sleeping space before, but stopped. The thought of him pressed so tightly against her on the narrow bed sent a rush of heat through her. It wasn’t an unwelcome sensation, but this wasn’t the time or the place. "All right, but wake me in a couple of hours and I’ll take over."

He nodded absently, turning to pull aside the ratty curtain and peer out the window. Going to the bed, Mac stretched out. She watched him for a moment, his form all shadows and angles in the pale light from the flashlight he’d placed on the table. She closed her eyes, but his image followed her into the darkness, her mind filling in all of the details obscured by the low light. She saw his eyes, boring into her with an intensity that should have been frightening but wasn’t. She saw the tender expression that sometimes claimed his features when he thought she couldn’t see him looking at her. She also saw the sadness that replaced that look when he was forced to glance away.

Sighing, Mac opened her eyes. There was no way she was going to get any sleep. She was too keyed up from the enormity of Johansen’s heinous plan, and from the strange hyper-awareness zinging through her. Even from across the room, she could feel Harm’s presence, filling the room – and her – with a charged electrical current. She rolled to a sitting position and watched him a moment longer.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly.

He turned slowly. "Us."

The frank admission startled Mac and for a moment, she couldn’t find her voice. At last, she managed to force air past the sudden constriction in her throat. "What about...us?"

"About what happened earlier tonight, when Robbins came in. I...we both know something happened between us and...I want to apologize."

"Why?" she asked quickly. "Like you said, we both felt it. You weren’t the only one who...took advantage of the situation. We both pushed it beyond what it needed to be."

He took a few steps closer. "I’m apologizing for how far I wanted to push it, Mac. If Robbins hadn’t come in when he did..."

She rose and moved closer. "I know, and again, you weren’t the only one."

His face was too deep in shadows to see his reaction, but she heard the sharp intake of breath. There was less than a foot of space between them and she could feel the heat from his big body radiating toward her in waves. "Mac..." His voice was a strangled whisper.

Not consciously aware of her actions, she took a final step forward and slid her hands up his chest, letting one continue upward to his face and then glide around to the back of his head. The tiniest amount of pressure was all it took. He ducked his head and claimed her waiting lips.

Desire slammed through her with a greater force than she’d ever known. Her lips parted of their own accord, her tongue darting out to meet his. He pulled her hard against him, his arms coming around her in a fierce embrace that threatened to drive out what little air was left in her lungs. The hand on the back of his head stroked the soft short silk of his hair while the other one explored the hard planes of his chest, the quivering muscles separated from her by only the thin cotton barrier of his tee shirt.

Harm’s own hands were far from still. They roamed her back restlessly, dropping low to glide over her backside. He started to pull her to him but then stopped abruptly, tearing his mouth from hers. His ragged whisper sounded like a shout in the silence. "This is wrong, Mac. It’s all wrong."

The icy cold of rejection doused the flames inside her. "I’m sorry you feel that way." She tried to pull out of his arms, but he held fast, pinning her to his chest.

"I mean it’s wrong here, now. If something is finally going to happen between us, I don’t want it to be some kind of out of control moment stolen from the middle of a combat zone. If I’m going to spend the night with you, I want it to be the whole night." He skimmed a hand over her hair and Mac caught the fine tremor of his fingers in the backlight of the flashlight’s beam. "I don’t want a fling with you, Mac. I never did. I...I want it all."

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His words threaded through her like a warm breeze, finding all the cold corners of her heart she’d thought would never be warm again. Before she could even begin to gather her thoughts, he scattered them even further by leaning down again and kissing her with a tenderness that sent an ache stabbing straight into her soul.

He very slowly drew back, brushing her cheek with his the backs of his fingers. "When we get home, we need to have a very long talk. There are so many things I want to tell you, but I’m not going to do it here, with all these distractions."

She nodded, still not trusting her voice. He pulled her into a quick but fierce hug, then guided her to the bed. Never once letting go of her, he lowered them both until they were sitting down, then turned and stretched out. His back resting against the wall at the head of the bed, he tucked her against his side. Surrounded by the swirling heat of his body, Mac rested her head on his chest, listening to the strong, sure beat of his heart.

"Let’s both try and get some sleep," he whispered. "Morning isn’t far away."

Mac’s internal clock awoke her a few hours later, just as the first faint rays of dawn were beginning to filter through the thin curtains. If they left now, there would be plenty of light by the time they reached the clearing. Unfortunately, that would mean leaving the warm drowsy place she was drifting in and that was something she didn’t want to do. Harm’s warmth enveloped her, the subtle spicy scent that was uniquely his drifted all around her, wrapping her in a safe cocoon where the only thing that mattered was the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath her head. For the first time in her life, Mac felt as though she was where she belonged.

She wanted nothing more than to kiss him awake and tell him that, but she didn’t dare. Last night, the overwhelming distraction of the scorching desire that flowed between them had been dangerous. This morning, it could be fatal. They needed their wits about them if they were going to get word to Col. Kwan before Johansen discovered they were gone and came after them.

Reluctantly, she rolled over and came to her feet. Harm awoke instantly, sitting up straight. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied quietly. "It’s getting light out. We should go soon."

With a half-nod, he rose as well. Mac felt a momentary stab of guilt as she watched him discretely stretch his back muscles. "I’m sorry I kept you pinned all night."

"I’m not," he said softly, meeting her gaze with that intense glow in his eyes. Before she could figure out how to respond, he tore his gaze from her. She could almost feel him slip behind a wall of professionalism. "Let’s get a move on. We need as much of a head start as possible. All hell is going to break loose when they find out we’re gone."

Turning, he flipped the bed’s narrow mattress over and reached into a hole made in the seam. He withdrew a sidearm and tucked it into the back of his waistband. "It won’t be much firepower against these guys, but it’s better than nothing."

Together they again slipped out of the cabin, this time heading into the forest. Mac led the way down the faint trail Johansen’s man had used to bring her up from the clearing. They moved through the morning stillness, making good time. Mac let her mind replay her actions when she first arrived at the clearing, trying to recall the precise location of the tree she’d used to stash her gear. She was almost certain she would know it when she saw it and when the arrived at the clearing, she hurried across and ducked into the forest on the far side. It only took her a moment to locate the tree with the yawning hollow at the base.

Dropping to her knees, she reached inside, groping for a moment until her hand came down on the stiff material of her pack. She dragged it out and Harm took it immediately, holding it for her while she pulled it open and rummaged inside for the radio. "I hope they’ve got that repeater repaired," she said quietly. "It went down just after I came up here. I could barely read their transmission, even from up on the ridge above us."

"If we can’t get through, we’ll have to head up there and see if that helps," he commented.

"That’s going to take a lot of time," she pointed out. "Here’s hoping we don’t have to." She flicked on the radio and keyed the mic, calling Mission Ops. The only response was a burst of static.

"Damn." His single whispered word summed up her feelings as well.

Mac fiddled with the limited adjustments and tried again. Still nothing. She fiddled some more and for a moment, she thought she heard a faint crackly voice over the static, but nothing she did would bring it in even clearer. Reluctantly, she lowered the radio into her lap. "It’s no use. Either the repeater isn’t working or we’re too low to reach it."

"I had the same problem once or twice when I was on the downhill side of the ridge, and the repeater was working fine then. We’ll have to—"

He never finished the sentence. The sharp crack of a rifle split the still morning air, the bullet kicking up debris only inches from his foot. Instinctively, they both dived for cover. Mac felt the radio slip from her fingers and spun to grab it, but Harm’s strong right hand caught her arm and pulled her toward the denser foliage an instant before another bullet plowed into the ground right where she’d been kneeling.

"Leave it!" he hissed. "There’s no guarantee it would work anyway."

"But we need it! How are we going to contact the colonel?" she whispered urgently.

"If we can work our way around to the other side of the camp, we can head downhill. There’s a small town down there. It’s not too far and if we make good time, we’ll be able to get there in time to warn someone."

Mac’s internal clock relentlessly ticked off the seconds. "We’re going to lose time getting around the compound."

He nodded. "So let’s get going!"

With the entire compound on alert, they were forced to make a very wide circle around it, keeping to the densest part of the forest. It was slow going, but they kept at it until Mac felt the ground start to slope downward beneath her feet.

"How far to the town now?" she asked, propping her back against a tree and dragging in huge gulps of air.

"Four, maybe five hours," he replied, breathing deeply as well. "It’ll be tight, but we can make it."

Mac shoved off the tree, ready to move on, but as she straightened, she saw Harm glance over her shoulder, his eyes going wide. "Mac!"

Several things happened all at once. He grabbed her with one hand, yanking her to the side as he drew his weapon with the other. Mac was flung off balance, but from the corner of her eye she saw him start to raise the weapon. Before he could bring it to bear, another rifle crack split the air. Mac stared in horror as Harm was slammed backwards, collapsing in a heap.

Mac reacted instinctively. Scooping up his weapon, she turned and fired in the direction of the sniper, laying down enough cover fire to hopefully make him duck long enough for her to get to Harm. She risked a quick glance in his direction and relief stabbed through her. He was conscious and trying to drag himself into deeper cover. Mac snapped off a few more rounds to give him the time he needed to get into the undergrowth.

The moment Harm was out of the line of fire, she started working her way toward the sniper’s position. She had only gone a few yards when she saw a slight rustle in the bushes. Looking carefully, she spotted the thin gray shape of a rifle barrel protruding from the foliage.

Grabbing a small rock, she tossed it to her right. The ploy worked perfectly. The sniper popped up, aiming toward the sound the rock made. Mac dropped him with one shot.

Turning, she made her way quickly back to Harm, praying she would find him on his feet, nursing a superficial wound, but their luck wasn’t that good. Instead, she found him still stretched out in the deep undergrowth. He was prone now, his face turned away from her.

"Harm!" Grabbing his shoulder, she tugged hard, desperation fueling her strength. He groaned softly and rolled over. A large crimson stain down low on his shirt sent a wash of bile against the back of her throat.

Sticking her finger through the hole in his shirt, she yanked, tearing the material apart to reveal the wound. It was low in his abdomen on his right side. Ripping the canteen off her belt with one hand, she untied her bandana with the other and soaked the cloth. She cleaned away as much of the blood as she could, but it was quickly becoming apparent that this was beyond her battlefield first aid skills.

Harm was becoming more alert and tried to sit up. She caught his shoulders. "Don’t move. You’ll make it worse."

"I’ve got to move," he replied hoarsely. "We have to keep going."

"You’re in no shape to hike down this mountain," she protested.

He gently eased her hand away from the wound, looking down at it, his eyes still a little dim. "It looks worse than it is. My head hurts worse than it does. I hit it on something when I went down. Just let me get my bearings and I’ll be okay."
Mac seriously doubted that, but left the bullet wound to check the back of his head. There was a good sized goose-egg forming right near the crown. "I don’t think you should be moving."

"We don’t have much choice," he insisted. "Come on, help me up before they have a chance to zero in on the weapons fire."

Reluctantly, Mac rose and pulled Harm to his feet. He swayed a moment, then steadied. Giving her a nod filled with a confidence she couldn’t share, he slid an arm over her shoulder, leaning on her for support. "Let’s go."

Supporting him as best she could, they made their way through the bush for over an hour. "Just keep going down," he ground out. "There’s an old dirt road leading into town. We can’t miss it if we go straight down."

Harm was leaning very heavily on her now and their progress was slowing rapidly. He tripped several times and finally went down, dropping to his knees and pitching forward before she could catch him. Mac dropped as well, kneeling beside him and grasping his shoulders to help him to roll over.

The front of his shirt was soaked with blood now. His face was a sick, ashen gray and even his lips had turned a little blue. Gasping for breath, he rolled onto his side, trying to prop himself up on one elbow.

"Mac, I’m not going to make it. I’m losing too much blood. It’s leaving a trail any idiot could follow."

"Don’t be silly," she admonished quickly. "You’ll make it out of here."

He shook his head, gasping and swallowing hard. "It’s too late, but one of us has got to get word to the authorities. Just leave me the weapon and go."

"That’s crazy! You can’t fight off heavily armed men with just a handgun!"

His eyes locked on hers with a blazing intensity. "I’m not going to use it to fight them off."

Mac went utterly still, a wave of horror crashing over her as she realized what he intended to do. "Harm, no," she breathed.

His eyes never left hers as he closed one hand over both of hers. His fingers were cold. "It’s the only way," he said softly.

She blinked against the sudden sting of tears as she choked out, "I can’t— I won’t—"

His hand tightening on hers, he whispered, "You have to. There’s more at stake here than just our lives. If you don’t get that information out, a whole lot of people are going to die. Even if I could get down off this mountain, there’s no way I could do it in time." He slowly slipped the gun from her pocket, setting it on the ground beside him, then returned his hand to hers, squeezing very hard this time. "Go on, Mac. Do what you have to do and I’ll do what I have to do."

A war to rival all others raged inside her. She knew he was right about getting the intel out in time, and deeper down inside, she also knew he was probably right about his chances of survival with a belly wound that bad, but how could she just leave him here?

"I can’t leave you," she choked. "Please don’t ask me to."

"It’s for the best, Mac." His eyes locked with hers again, boring into her until she could see straight into his soul. What she saw was an acceptance so complete it was almost peaceful. A tear slipped from her eye and slid down her cheek.

"I...I love you."

His expression softened and he reached to cup her cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing the tear away. "I know," he whispered. "I love you too."

Slipping his hand around to the back of her head, he pulled her to him, his lips cool and soft as they found hers. He kissed her deeply, with an aching tenderness that split her heart in two. He drew back slowly, his eyes again settling on hers. "Go," he breathed.

She tore herself from him, nearly stopping when his hand momentarily refused to let go of hers, but then she slid from his grasp. Leaping to her feet, she ran as hard and as fast as her exhausted body would go because if she didn’t, she would turn back and if she did, she would never be able to make her feet move again.

She had only run a short distance before the bush got too thick, forcing her to slow to a walk. A few steps farther, she heard a single gunshot split the air, echoing through the mountains. A sob wrenched from her throat and for a moment, the forest in front of her disappeared completely behind a veil of tears.

Read Part 2!