'Dissonance' - Chapter Five Author: Daenar Disclaimer: See Chapter One
Sun, June 21st 1545 ZULU Dwayne Myers Naval College Long Island, N.Y.
Frowning, Harm put on his cover as he stepped out onto the sunlit campus. If the temperature continued to rise as it did, his dress whites would be soaked by the time he had to go on stage tonight. Normally, he'd have changed into them only after a nice cold shower around 1700, but something had come up that forced him to wear them all day. Yesterday morning the news had spread across the campus that Senator Hillary Clinton had decided to visit the college this morning and attend the concert in the evening. So for her reception, all had been ordered to wear dress uniforms. 'The only good thing about all this is that I actually get to see Mac wear dress whites,' he thought with a smile.

Cadets, professors, personnel and guests were gathering on the central plaza where the members of the band were already setting up music stands and chairs. As Harm was slowly walking over to his musicians, he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

"Commander Rabb! Sir!"

He turned around and a radiant smile lit up his face. "Bud! My God, Lieutenant, it's so good to see you! And you, Harriet," he greeted the young blonde who, after so many months, for the first time seemed as happy and good-natured as they'd always known her before Bud's injury.

Bud approached to greet his friend, walking with the aid of crutches. Harm raised his eyebrows. "This looks good, Bud. Last time I saw you, you were still in a wheelchair."

"Yeah, but a couple of months ago they gave me this," he knocked one crutch against the leg he had originally lost, letting hear a muffled 'clank' through the uniform trousers. "Do you remember the movie 'Forrest Gump', sir? Well, this one is a model they developed on the basis of the prostheses they gave Lieutenant Dan, you know, those high-tech things. Only that he had two of them." Bud's smile still had a sad edge but Harm could tell he was fighting hard to carry on, and he was enormously relieved to find Bud so much changed for the better, compared to when he'd last met him.

"Well, I'd say you're doing great, Bud."

To his astonishment, Harm saw the lieutenant smile a little embarrassedly. "Not really, sir. You know, I'm supposed to walk without crutches by now."

"And he's really good at it," Harriet eagerly cut in.

"But on special occasions like today I'm always afraid I might lose my footing and fall," Bud admitted, "So I take the crutches. I feel more secure."

"I don't think having that bit of security on a special occasion will prolong your rehab very much, " Harm said with a reassuring smile, gently patting his friend on the back.

Just then Harm caught a glimpse of Mac carrying her drum over to the band. She looked over, saw her friends and felt she couldn't resist the urge to come over and greet them personally. So when she'd joined the band, she turned to Dorothy.

"Dorrie, I'll just leave my drum with you for a second, okay? I see Cmdr. Rabb standing over there and I need to ask him something about the repetition of the second half of 'Madhouse'. You know he's gonna be all giddy when he finally joins us."

"Sure, go ahead."

Taking her 'Madhouse' score, Mac gladly walked over to the little group of officers that fortunately stood a little away from other people, at least far enough not to be overheard.

Harriet tugged at Harm's sleeve and made him turn in Mac's direction, just as she came to attention in front of her friends. Suppressing a grin, Harm saluted back.

"At ease, Cadet O'Hara," he said with a wink and earned a slight smile from Mac in return. "What can I do for you?"

"Sir, I wanted to ask you what you decided concerning my part in the repetition of the second half of 'Madhouse'." With a wink she opened the score and started to point out something to him. He played along, bending slightly over the sheets. Harriet and Bud came a little closer, as if they were interested in the advice Harm gave one of his students.

"Bud, it's so good to see you!" Mac said in a low voice, never taking her eyes off the pentagram Harm was pointing out to her.

"Same here, ma'am," Bud said, intently looking at Harriet, "Did you know dress whites become you, ma'am?"

Harriet had to fight hard to keep her straight face as she seemingly addressed Harm. "Ma'am, how are things going? The commander torturing you with homework?"

Harm nodded, seeming to consider the options for Cadet O'Hara's involvement in the 'Madhouse' arrangement.

Mac, too, looked up at Harm questioningly, as she replied: "I'm standing my ground, Harriet. Lately we seem to have made progress with the investigation, so, with a bit of luck, we might be out of here soon."

Harm cleared his throat and after a whispered "There's something to dress whites, I admit, Marine," said: "That's how we do it, Cadet. Now, please go and join the others. I'll be right with you."

"Aye, sir," said Mac, snapping to attention with the hint of a threatening smile in his direction for his last remark.

"Dismissed." Again, Harm greeted her and she turned and walked back to the band.

"Is she okay, sir?" Harriet asked concerned.

Harm suppressed a grin. 'Somehow I get the feeling she's never been better,' he thought. "Mac's just fine, Harriet. We exchange a lot of emails and as far as I know, she's doing well. She's one of my most ardent students," he added, letting his grin finally come out.

"I see," Harriet smirked. Bud silently smiled to himself, comfortably leaning on his crutches.

Harm glanced at his watch. "I'm sorry, folks, but our guest will arrive shortly and we're supposed to be playing when she does. Bud, I want you and Fred to join me after the reception. I need to show you something that's really interesting."

"Aye, sir," Bud replied with a smile. It felt good to be back.

The official part of the morning went rather well. The band played two pieces at Senator Clinton's arrival, the 'Stars and Stripes' and 'Blue Skies' from the Goodman program. Fred had some difficulties coping with his saber while playing. Tonight covers, gloves and sabers wouldn't be worn on stage but now, being at an open-air reception, they were. He tried not to move too much and luckily his tone didn't suffer from his uneasiness. Bud and Harriet were impressed and said that much to Claire who had joined them by now.

After the speeches and thanks part the band played a short march and Senator Clinton approached and exchanged a few words with Harm. While guests and college inhabitants shared a drink on the plaza, the Senator was given a short tour around the college grounds. When she returned, all went to have lunch and only after that, Harm found a possibility to pull his friends aside.

"I think you haven't met yet, have you?" Harm looked at the lieutenants.

"No, sir, I haven't had the pleasure," Fred said a little stiffly, indicating that he was nervous once again.

Harriet had obviously briefed Bud about this trait of Fred's character. He smiled, indicating that he didn't take offence. "Lieutenant Bud Roberts. Pleased to meet you."

Fred relaxed a little and immediately took up his officer-and-gentleman attitude again. "Lieutenant, j.g. Federico Prumetti, sir. My friends call me Fred. Equally pleased to meet you, sir."

"Lieutenants, let's take this to the library," Harm said quietly, motioning for them to follow him.

They walked over to the impressive building and entered it. Harm led them to a quiet room where some older geographical items were stored. Reaching behind a row of books on a shelf, he pulled out Cadet Waters's diary.

"What's that, sir?" Fred asked, curious.

"This seems to be the missing link in the crime scheme," Harm explained. "We still don't have any ideas about who killed her, but Cadet Waters at least supplied us with the organization of the drug commerce the CIA's been investigating."

"Uhm, how so, sir?" Bud asked.

"I'll read you some of her notes," Harm said. "So, here goes:

'Monday, April 20th: All aboard the Cleveland. Nice ship. It's got two...'

"wait, I'll leave that out, that's just description... yadayadayada... okay,

'We're only eight cadets this time, actually I don't know why. Anyway, it's going to be nice. Sure, I already miss Pablo, but as Pedro...'

"that's Pedro Godoy, fourth year, a cousin of the Gonzalezes,

'As Pedro's supervising it'll be fun.'

"The next four days go smoothly, she writes about almost everything and nothing. She spends a lot of time with Cadet Godoy. But now it gets really interesting.

'Saturday, April 25th: Arrived at Kingston in the morning. We were given a few hours of leave. I'm a little disappointed in Pedro. He's been very curt and almost rude all day. He knows Kingston and I asked him to show me some of it. But he wouldn't . Normally he'd agree at once. When I asked him why not, he said he had something to do for his uncle's firm. Wouldn't be the first time I'd be around when they cut deals. I've accompanied Pablo more than once and even Pedro, a few weeks back. But he said he didn't want me around, and the way he said it! Don't think I'll forgive him very easily! I have been out with Mills and Scott instead. Was okay, I guess. Only that neither of us knew what we were looking at. Pedro's only just returned. I'm sure he's in trouble. The skipper doesn't like it when you're late! When I finished my turn of duty, I went down to the galley to greet the cook. His name's Raoul Alvarez and he makes an awesome gumbo! He's about forty and he's a nice guy. We mainly talk about music. He loves salsa and Cuban 'son' and he knows a lot about them. Nice pastime. Talked to Pablo on the phone - too short (sigh!). Tells me not to worry about Pedro getting moody at times. Don't know if I like it.'

"Okay... yadayada... here's the crucial passage:

'Tuesday, April 28th: Though Pedro's back to normal after our departure from Kingston, today he's acting like a jerk again. We arrived in Miami and I asked him again about taking a stroll. He was even more blunt than he was earlier. Right now I'm sitting here all alone. I'd waited for him to get off duty, so all the others are already gone and all over town. Guess, I'll go find Raoul. He's always got fresh coffee for me. I feel like I need it right now.'

"The next bit seems scribbled very quickly and her handwriting's a bit shaky.

'Been down to the galley. No sign of Raoul. Decided to fix my own coffee. No coffee. Went into storage. Looking for coffee, I stumbled over a pile of sacks I hadn't seen 'cause they were kind of hidden in a corner. One fell down and opened. Looked like flour. Actually read 'flour' on the sack. But I know where the flour is stored and they normally use a special type. Raoul explained that to me when he showed me how to fix his famous special pancakes. Got suspicious and tasted. I'll be damned if that's flour! I don't know what exactly they keep down there but I'm almost sure it's some kind of a drug. God, I'm beside myself! Looked up the loading lists from Norfolk, the flour isn't on it. I don't know who's brought it on board and how and how he wants to clear it back at Norfolk. I'm gonna call Pablo. He always knows what to do.'

"So that's her initial mistake. She actually called the Gonzalezes of all people! Anyway, no long entries the next day. I'll skip to the last entry which is rather interesting, too.

'Thursday, April 30th: God, I can't wait to get off this ship! I'm scared out of my mind and what doesn't really help is that my strange behavior seems to annoy my friends. Pedro and Raoul, mostly. They eye me suspiciously and avoid me. I've tried to calm down but I can't. Pablo called yesterday, saying he was calling from a payphone as his cell was broken. I can't reach him. I need Janni, badly. I need to tell her. But somewhere deep in my gut I have a really bad feeling. So I decided to leave a backup message for her in case I don't get round to telling her for whatever reason. Someone should know besides me. So there'll at least be two of us to try and straighten out this mess! I'll store this diary someplace safe and leave a hint that she'll be able to work out. I don't dare to do it openly. My God, I wish we were back!'

"That's it. I already called Webb this morning. He's got his people working on it right now, and he's confident to have it all wrapped up before night. What do you think, Lieutenants?"

Fred and Bud exchanged a frown. "Pretty obvious, I'd say," Fred stated, slightly shocked.

"I think so, too," Bud agreed. "So now that Webb is..."

He didn't get any further than that because suddenly Fred whirled around, instinctively drew his saber as he didn't carry a sidearm with his dress whites, and shouted to Harm: "Sir! Watch out!"

Harm instantly dragged Bud out of the line of fire as the first shot rang out. Immediately taking in the situation, he knew at once that their odds were miserable. Outside, the brass ensemble of the band, together with the percussion, had begun to play a little on their own, obviously entertaining the guests. The library was rather far from the dorms or the plaza. And with the loud music he was sure no one could have heard the shot that had been muffled by a silencer.

They were unarmed. The only 'weapons' they had were Fred's decorated steel saber and one of Bud's crutches - he had lost the other when he was dragged out of the way. They were cornered between two shelves, their way out blocked by four Hispanic-looking men carrying guns with silencers. They couldn't have run, anyway, with Bud at their side. Silently glancing at each other and swallowing heavily, the three navy officers squared their shoulders and lifted their heads, preparing to meet their destiny as the four assaulters slowly closed in on them.
Same time Plaza Dwayne Myers Naval College Long Island, N.Y.
Jeannine was listening to the brass band, enjoying the fact that for once Cassandra had the lead and she could actually listen. For the first time she really watched Mac playing her drum. 'For someone who didn't even know how to really read music three weeks ago, she's doing great,' Jeannine observed to herself, her admiration for the colonel still growing. Yes, one day she would be like her, she promised to herself once again.

Suddenly she became aware that the 'Stardust' topic hadn't been mentioned yet. Feeling that she absolutely needed to make sure the right copy had been found, and silently wondering if indeed there could have been more to the score than just errors, she resolved to find Cmdr. Rabb. As she didn't see him around, Jeannine approached the blonde lieutenant he seemed to be friends with. Maybe she knew where he was.

"Excuse me, ma'am." Jeannine snapped to attention.

Harriet, who was animatedly talking to Claire, turned around and with a smile saluted back. "Yes, Cadet? Can I help you?"

"Cadet Jeannine Stiller, ma'am. I play the solo flute in the marching band and I need to find Cmdr. Rabb. Do you happen to know where I can find him?"

Harriet kept her eyebrows from rising. So this was the poor girl who had come to see Harm. In a gentler voice still, she answered: "I do, Cadet. I think he's gone to the library with my husband and Lt. Prumetti."

"Thank you very much, ma'am."

"You're welcome, Cadet."

Jeannine greeted again and Harriet with a smiling salute dismissed her.

Upon entering the silent building of the library Jeannine suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Had that been a gunshot she'd just heard? Feeling herself start to tremble heavily, she thought of Mac and willed herself to stay calm. Cautiously she followed the long corridor in the direction that she suspected the shot to have come from.

At the back, a door stood slightly ajar. She heard angry hisses and muffled commands. Holding her breath, she carefully peeped around the corner and stifled a cry at what she saw. Rabb, Prumetti and the lieutenant's husband were gagged and being bound. Rabb was lying on the floor. He had bruises on his temple. The others seemed to be all right, except for their pallor.

"Les traemos a la cabaña de barcas, debajo la resaca del pinar. El jefe aguarda a nosotros allí," Jeannine heard one of the kidnappers say. [We get them to the boathouse, along the shore with the pines. The boss will be waiting for us there.]

When she saw them begin to lift the commander, Jeannine knew she had to get away ASAP. Slipping out of her shoes and taking them in her hands, she sprinted out of the library at top speed.

Outside the building she put her shoes back on and casually strolled over to the plaza. The brass ensemble had just finished another piece and Jeannine seized the opportunity and slipped between the musicians of the percussion group, her expression immediately telling Mac that something was wrong. With a smile Mac excused herself and followed Jeannine who led her over to where Harriet and Claire were standing.

Astonished to see Mac and Stiller coming to attention before her, Harriet put them at ease and, with growing anxiety at the Cadet's expression, asked for an explanation. She could see that Mac was just as curious as herself and Claire.

"Ma'am, the commander, your husband and Lt. Prumetti have just been taken hostage," Jeannine quickly told them in a guarded voice. "Some Spanish speaking guys are going to take them to a hidden boathouse I happen to know. The commander seems to be injured."

Mac had to refrain from jumping as Jeannine mentioned Harm. She had to stick to her cover. Nothing but the tight edge in her voice conveyed her inward turmoil. "How do we get there?" she whispered.

"It's past the 'Driftwood'. After half a mile we have to turn left," Jeannine explained quietly.

Harriet had by now regained her composure and knew she had to play the part of the highest-ranking officer. She put on a grim face. "Well, then, Cadet Stiller, Cadet O'Hara, Miss Farnham, I suppose it's up to us to rescue the guys. Follow me to the gate, I'll get you past the guards."

"I have my sidearm in my apartment," Mac said. "I'm going to get it."

"And I know where Fred's is," put in Claire, trying to steady her voice.

"Okay. We'll meet at the gate in five. Dismissed, Cadets," Harriet said.

"Aye, ma'am," Jeannine and Mac replied, turned and left the plaza, trying not to be too conspicuous.

Five minutes later, four women - a lieutenant and two cadets, all in dress whites, and a civilian, clad in a stylish light-blue suit - approached the main entrance to the college. Claire stayed back a little while Harriet, Mac and Jeannine approached the guard, a young Marine corporal who instantly came to attention.

"Ma'am!"

"At ease, Corporal!" Harriet's voice would have intimidated any Marine. "I'm Lt. Harriet Sims, JAG headquarters. I need those two, Cadet Second Year Jeannine Stiller and Cadet Second Year Patricia O'Hara, to accompany me on an errand."

The corporal hesitated a second as if to object, then met Harriet's icy stare and wrote down the names. "Aye, ma'am." Claire handed him her visitor's badge and the foursome set off in the direction of the beach, silently condemning their high heels.

They had taken off their shoes to be able to walk faster on the sand. As they approached the 'Driftwood', the beach was starting to get rather crowded so they put them on again and, chatting, fell into a companionable strolling pace, trying to make people believe they were enjoying the sun. They knew they were rather conspicuous in their dress uniforms and that fact would be a hinderance once they got near the boathouse, but time was short and it couldn't be helped. Eventually, Jeannine stopped.

"We have to take this path between the dunes, ma'am," she told Harriet.

"Okay," Harriet replied without a moment's hesitation. "So we'll do it just as we planned on the way here. Claire and Mac, you are armed, so you go to the rescue, while Jeannine and I keep the guards busy. Let's just hope there's not too many of them."

"I'll have to get on top of the boathouse," Claire said, "So what if I went first and signaled you from that dune over there how many of them are down there?"

"Good thinking, Claire," Mac replied. "I'll go for the direct approach between the dunes as soon as Harriet and Janni have the guards' attention. Signal me when you see them. I'll stay right here until you do."

"Okay."

The four women for a moment looked silently at each other. "Good luck," they finally said simultaneously. The following chuckles somewhat managed to ease the tension.

Claire put on a grim half-grin, stuffed her shoes into the pockets of her jacket and began to climb the dunes. A couple of minutes later she reappeared on the dune she had pointed out, holding up four fingers of her right hand, with her left hand indicating that those four guards were outside. She then pointed her right index down directly and visibly shrugged as if to say that she didn't know how many men were inside the boathouse.

Harriet acknowledged with a nod, put on a radiant smile, wrapped her arm around Jeannine's shoulder and began telling her stories of little AJ, walking towards the boathouse. Mac waited, silently praying that Harm hadn't played the hero once again. 'God, let him be okay,' she kept repeating fervently in her mind. Finally Claire signaled her to approach. Trying to stay close to the dunes, Mac set off, her gun drawn. She saw Claire cautiously lower herself from above onto the roof of the boathouse, taking out Fred's sidearm.

As Mac peeped around the last dune that separated her from the boathouse, she saw Harriet and Jeannine converse happily with two of the guards.

"You know, we're not from here. It's so easy to get lost," she heard Harriet say with an embarrassed laugh, casting one of them a flirtatious smile. The man seemed to be flattered and started pointing something out to her, the other one eager to contribute his part and earning himself an equally seductive, innocent smile. Harriet had taken off her jacket and casually held it in front of her belly, thus covering the little swell that otherwise would have been noted.

'Good job, Lt. Sims.' Mac would have grinned at the display, had she not been consumed with worry for Harm's well-being.

The guards that Harriet and Jeannine were talking to had now their backs turned to the boathouse, indicating and explaining some path to the charming young women.

'Men,' Mac thought, 'How stupid can they get? They have no defense against feminine wiles.' From her hideout she looked over to Claire who by now lay flat on top of the house. Claire signaled to her that the other two guards were at the back of the house, one starting to come to the front.

'I'll take out the one at the back,' she mouthed to Mac, underlining her words with gestures. Mac understood and prepared herself. As the fourth guard came around the corner she let him pass her and then silently and swiftly stepped out of her cover behind him and efficiently knocked him down with the butt of her gun. The man went down without uttering a syllable.

Mac looked up to the roof and saw one of Claire's arms rise, her gun's butt ready to come down on someone's head. By the muffled 'thud' she heard a moment later, Mac knew that it actually had. She decided it was showtime.

Harm had a massive headache but he tried to ignore the throbbing. He didn't have a clue where they were or how they got there. The only thing he remembered was that he had stepped out from between the bookshelves with his hands up, trying to negotiate a release for Bud and Fred, saying that he was the investigator. And he remembered the heavy blow he'd felt on his head before all had gotten dark around him.

He had realized that his hands and feet were bound, as were those of Bud and Fred who were sitting next to him. By unspoken agreement, neither of them said anything as they were first questioned by a man unknown to them and by Juan Gonzales himself about who this 'Webb' was and who knew about the affair.

The kidnappers had first tried their luck with Bud, believing him to be the weakest, but he had remained silent. They had taken off his prosthesis and kicked his stump cruelly several times, causing him to wince sharply as the injury still hurt badly. But although Harm could see silent tears of pain trickle down the lieutenant's cheeks, Bud stubbornly pressed his lips together, lifted his chin and stared back at his torturers. Harm was incredibly proud of his young friend.

But now the situation was starting to get out of hand. Juan Gonzalez, with an evil grin, took Fred's saber and approached the Italian lieutenant, locking his gaze with Harm's.

"Commander, I know you like this young man, don't you?" he asked maliciously, pointing the saber at Fred's throat. The lieutenant closed his eyes and tried not to move although he was starting to tremble badly.

"Leave him alone, Gonzalez!" Harm roared. "It's me you're after!"

"He knows about us, so we're after him, too," Gonzalez replied coldly. "But I might just spare him if you tell me what I want to know. Consider your options, Rabb. Do you want to be responsible for your friend's painful death? Or do you prefer to talk?"

"Don't, sir!" Fred managed to choke out.

Harm swallowed and closed his eyes. It was hopeless. He knew they'd be shot anyway. The syndicate wouldn't let people live who knew what they did. But he might at least spare Bud and Fred from further torture. "No need for heroes, Fred," he said quietly, a sad smile on his lips. "All right, Gonzalez. I'll tell you whom I contacted and what I told him. Let go of my friend."

He tried to steady himself, drawing a deep breath. 'Mac,' he thought, feeling bitter sadness. 'I'm sorry. I wanted so much to be with you. I thought finally God had mercy upon us and let us have our future together. There's nothing in the world that I've been looking forward to so much as growing old at your side and seeing our kids grow up. I only hope that one day you'll find the man who'll finally be able to give you the love and family you deserve. I wanted to be that man but it seems it wasn't meant to be. But at least I had the guts to tell you. That'll be my comfort. I'll miss you, my favorite Marine.'

Suddenly his head snapped up as he heard the door being forced. Gonzalez and the other man whirled around. A shot rang out, and Harm's heart skipped several beats when he saw his Sarah standing in the doorway, her gun pointed at Gonzalez, whose shirt had started to turn red. With an expression of utmost horror, the Columbian swayed and fell to the ground.

From the corner of his eye, Harm detected a movement. "Mac! Watch out!" he shouted.

Another shot was fired, not from Mac's gun, but not from the other man's, either. As the second kidnapper silently went down from a shot to the head, Harm and his coworkers just stared at the trembling figure that had appeared in the doorway. Claire Farnham's tears started to flow freely and she broke down where she was standing, sobbing violently: "I killed a man! My God, I'm a doctor, and I killed him!"

Hearing the gunfire, the guards started and turned their heads in the direction of the boathouse. But before they had time to think, Harriet silently and efficiently exercised her Singer-tested right hook on the distracted man and efficiently took him out. The second guard started to draw his gun but Jeannine's knee very pointedly met his most sensible parts and the pain made him drop the gun and drop to his knees. Harriet picked up the gun and pistol-whipped him with it to knock him unconscious."

"Not my type, anyway," she muttered, satisfied, and, together with Jeannine, ran over to the boathouse.

They arrived to find Mac trying to console a totally broken-down Claire. "Claire, you had no choice. If you hadn't shot him he would have shot someone else. Fred, maybe. It was self-defense."

Claire looked up with a tear-stained face. "But I am a doctor, Mac," she said in a low voice. "I swore an oath to save life, not to take it."

Harriet had instantly understood that freeing Fred was priority number one right now. As soon as she had untied him, the lieutenant ran over to his fiancée and took her into his arms, rocking her gently and soothingly whispering to her in Italian, thus giving them a little privacy. Jeannine untied the two other officers and took whatever rope was left outside to use it on the guards to allow the others privacy as they reunited with their loved ones.

Harriet was too shaken to speak. She and Bud just fiercely held on to one another, crying with relief. Mac went over to Harm and gently encircled him in her arms, suppressing a sob. Examining his bruises, she very slowly felt him relax as he realized that they still had each other.

"I was so scared, Mac," he confessed in a low voice. "Not so much for my life. But for losing our love and our future. I thought I'd never see you again."

Remembering that she still had to refrain from openly showing her feelings, she just held him, gently caressing his hair. "I was scared out of my mind, flyboy," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "You okay?"

"I am now. Thank you for saving my life once again, Sarah."

She smiled. "You're welcome. But if it hadn't been for the others, I'd never have made it in time. Jeannine happened to see you being assaulted. She alerted us, and Harriet took the command of the operation."

"Wow. The four of you really proved that women do stand their ground in combat." He gave her half a flyboy-grin.

She just kept smiling, holding onto him.

Claire cleared her throat and, with a shaky smile on her lips, stepped over to them. "I'd like to quickly look you over, all of you, just to make sure no one's been hurt."

"Go ahead, doctor," Harm smiled.

Claire examined his bruises and decided he had a slight concussion, but nothing broken. Bud's stump was a little red and swollen from the blows, but Claire considered it safe to put the prosthesis back on if he promised to let someone help him when he stood. Fred had a tiny cut on his throat where Gonzalez had pointed his saber. But it had already started to clot. Harriet, in her state, luckily hadn't been involved in any real violence. She just had to promise to Claire to take it easy for the next days. Mac didn't show any signs of injury, either. Relieved, all left the boathouse and Claire started to look for Jeannine in order to examine her as well. As she walked over to where the cadet was finishing her work by gagging one of the guards with her handkerchief, Mac motioned for Claire to stop, making sure they wouldn't be overheard.

"Uhm... Claire, could I ask you a favor?" she began uneasily.

Claire's eyebrows went up a notch. "Sure. What's up?"

"Do you have your med bag around?"

"Back at Fred's, at the college, yes."

"Could I drop by for a minute once we're back, in private, to get something checked out?"

"Sure."

Just then Jeannine walked up to them. Mac decided she'd tell Claire when they were alone and, upon mutual agreement, she quickly set off for the college to get help. The others carried the motionless guards into the boathouse and tried to brush the dirt off their dress uniforms. Only then did they start to walk back to the college.

Mac had been running all the way across the sand, feeling the urge to tire herself down to be able to digest the recent events. When she finally arrived at the campus gate, she was panting heavily and her uniform was all but in order. She quickly approached the Marine corporal.

"Have some people sent over to the boathouse half a mile south of the 'Driftwood' café," she ordered in boot-camp voice. "There's two dead and four ready to be taken in custody."

The corporal just eyed her from head to toe. "And you would be...?" he said superbly.

After the day's events, Mac's patience was almost non-existent. She drew herself up to full height, took off her cadet's cover and hairpin, quickly shaking her head, and said very pointedly: "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Catherine Mackenzie, United States Marine Corps, Chief of Staff to the U.S. Navy's Judge Advocate General."

The corporal smiled. "Sure. And I'm the Secretary of Defense."

At this, Mac lost it. She pulled out her dog tags, slammed them on the counter in front of the guard and, with a killing stare, shouted: "Get me MP reinforcements, Corporal. ASAP!"

The corporal jumped, took a look at Mac's dog tags, blanched visibly, came to attention and shouted: "Yes, ma'am, Colonel Mackenzie, ma'am!" Then, shaking, he quickly grabbed the receiver of his base telephone and executed her order.
Sun, June 21st 1940 ZULU Fred's apartment Dwayne Myers Naval College Long Island, N.Y.
Fear made Mac clutch the seam of her uniform skirt as she sat and waited for Claire to finish her tests. She had had a certain suspicion for several days now, ever since her menstruation hadn't set in as punctually as it normally did. Mac would never have worried about a delay of a day or two, but taking the pill, she had always been able to rely on her body to function like clockwork. She always started taking the hormones on Tuesdays, stopped on Mondays and was sure to be due for her menstruation the following Thursday morning. So it worried her that this time, for the first time in years, on Sunday morning there was still no sign of it. For three days she had pushed it away from her thoughts, the investigation being much more important. But now that they seemed to have accomplished their official task, the gnawing uncertainty had come back and she was glad Claire was there to release her from her state of hanging - one way or the other.

As soon as she had made sure that the MPs were underway, Mac had called Webb and had briefed him about the latest events. He had instantly sent his people to arrest Alvarez and any possible accomplices that would come up during the interrogation. Other MPs had been sent to take care of Pedro Godoy and question the Gonzalezes' other cousins. Hopefully, a hint at who'd killed Meryl Waters would now be within reach, too.

Clay had sung high praise about the discovery of the diary and had mentioned some document the Secnav must have sent to Harm... He had sounded rather strange as he had hinted at the topic, and he had quickly passed on to another one, once he had realized that she didn't know what he had been talking about. Well, she'd ask Harm later on. But it really seemed that they were finally done with this game of hide-and-seek.

Mac had butterflies in her stomach at the thought of being able to return into Harm's waiting arms - well, at least privately. On the other hand, she was astonished to feel a slight pang at the thought that she had to leave college life, too. The past few weeks had provided her with an insight into what her youth could have been, had she been born into the 'right' family. She was going to miss the fun. And she was going to miss the music. Who'd have guessed?

And now there was this other thing looming over her future. 'We'll take one step at a time and let everything develop slowly,' she remembered Harm telling her in Venice. They'd done great so far. Everything had come up at the right time, they had adjusted to their new relationship with ease. By the by, each of them had dropped little bits of emotional baggage as they carried on down the road.

If her suspicion were proven right, would Harm be ready to face the full consequences of what it meant, and would he do it from the heart, not from a mere sense of honor and duty? Mac sighed heavily and kept counting the seconds, imagining that her stomach had to be completely made of knots by now. After what seemed an eternity to her, although in reality it had been only fourteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds, Claire came back into the room, slightly smiling and obviously unsure how to talk to the colonel.

Mac saw her expression and felt her throat go dry. "Just tell me the verdict, Claire. No beating around the bush."

Claire cleared her throat. "Well, Mac... I don't know if this is the way you feel about it right now, but all I have to say is: congratulations."

Closing her eyes, Mac felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over her in an instant. Her first thought was: 'Run and hide!' But then a second thought made its way to her conscious, filling her with sudden warmth. Unbeknownst to her, a smile began to slowly spread over her face as she let Claire's words sink in. 'This is it,' she realized with wonder. 'Right here, under your very heart, you carry Harm's child. A child of your love.'

She looked up at Claire whose smile had brightened at her reaction. "I don't really know what I should feel right now," Mac confessed in a low, confused voice that yet carried audible traces of her smile. "You know, Claire, I was so sure it couldn't happen. I'm on the pill. But I think I forgot that I'd been sick due to the concussion I suffered when I fell during my first band rehearsal and hit my head on my drum. Throwing up must have lessened the effect of the hormones."

Claire decided she'd take the plunge. "It's Harm's, isn't it?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Mac said with a far-away smile on her face as she remembered the night the child must have been conceived. Or the following day, for that matter...

"How do you think he'll take it?" the younger woman ventured carefully.

Mac let out a low chuckle, studying her hands and fighting with her emotions. "I guess 'shock' wouldn't quite describe it. But I'm rather sure that once he's gotten used to the idea he'll be on cloud nine. After all, we did have that deal..."

"What deal?" Claire's voice showed traces of curiosity as she sat down on the couch beside her friend.

Mac hesitated for a moment, but then thought she might as well tell her. "Don't laugh, okay?"

Claire gave her a puzzled smirk. "Okay..."

"Well, when Bud and Harriet's son AJ, our godson, was born four years ago," Mac again smiled at the recollection, "Harriet didn't make it to the hospital in time and actually gave birth in Chegwidden's office, the admiral playing the best midwife I've ever seen."

"No!" Claire gasped in amazement, making Mac chuckle.

"Yes, believe me. Anyway, when we'd finally gotten her and Bud in an ambulance together with their son, Harm and I watched them leave and I started musing about my biological clock. That's when he offered that we'd go on halves on a kid in five years if neither of us were in a serious relationship. I accepted. That's it." Mac looked at her friend to see her stare at her in utmost bewilderment.

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"But you've been together for quite some time, then?"

"Nope." Mac's grin was steadily growing.

Claire shook herself from her shock. "Okay, now we're going to straighten out some details!" she said in a tone that would have made a drill sergeant proud. "Just what's going on between the two of you?"

By now Mac was openly laughing. "It's been a little more than three months, to be exact. It took me almost marrying someone else I didn't love and him almost dying in a plane crash at sea plus another two years to get back to our friendship before we finally had the guts to face our seven years of history and get it right."

Claire silently counted backwards. "Venice..." she finally said.

"Yep."

"Does anyone know yet?"

"You do now. And Harm's parents. And Jeannine. She put two and two together when she saw that I carry a picture of Harm in my wallet."

"Fred's been suspecting something ever since his first day at JAG," Claire admitted with a grin. "He said you were kind of emanating an aura."

Mac laughed at her statement. "Well, if he can keep secrets you might let slip that he was right. I guess, things being as they are, it won't stay a secret for too long anyway. We'll have to come up with some solution quickly, concerning the regs," she added with a frown.

"Mac," Claire said soothingly, taking her hand as she sensed her friend's discomfort, "Don't try to create the world in one day when even God needed six to do it. First get used to the idea that you and Harm will have a family. That's a wonderful thing. Then break the news to the future daddy. Then wrap up this case as quickly as possible. And then I'll allow you to think about regulations, okay? I'm your obstetrician, I'm in the position to order you now, Colonel. That is... if you'd like me to do the job," she added, a little unsure.

Mac's smile was one of genuine gratefulness. "I'd love that, Claire," she said, squeezing the younger woman's hand.

Walking over to her quarters, Mac decided she wouldn't need Pat O'Hara anymore. Her dress whites were stained anyway. How on earth did Harm and the other squids succeed to keep them white whatever they did? Not that it concerned her now. She'd told Harriet to bring her dress blues, just in case. So tonight she'd step onto that stage in the uniform she was proud of. Uniform. Mac gasped when a picture invaded her mind, a picture of herself in a maternity uniform. 'How will Harm take it?' she asked herself, feeling a little frightened. Rationally she was sure he would be rapturous. But emotionally she still had difficulties to fully trust her luck. What if he backed away? Not from his responsibility. He'd never let her down. But emotionally, if he didn't feel up to the task... 'Oh God, please, don't let that happen!' she silently prayed.

She knew he'd immediately ask her to marry him. But initially he had begged her to be patient for a little while until he felt he could ask her properly. She didn't want him to rush it now because he considered it a question of honor. She wanted him to ask of his own free will. But that wouldn't be an option anymore, once he learnt of her state. Why hadn't she just been more careful?

Mac was so lost in thoughts when she entered her apartment that at first she didn't notice the person that was quietly sitting on the couch. Only as he rose Mac jumped and froze, instantly switching to Marine-mode.

"Pablo, what are you doing here? How did you get into my room?"

Pablo, with the hint of a thin smile, approached her. "I have my ways, sweetheart."

Mac decided she didn't like the sound of his voice and prepared for a possible attack. But Pablo just stopped in front of her. "You wanted war, Colonel Mackenzie, you got it," he stated simply. "You know, I did care for you. As did Maribel for your commander. But I guess that's our problem now. Your problem is gonna be a little different: facing our revenge."

With that he quickly pulled his hand out of his pocket and lunged at Mac. She was quick to parry his blow, but not quick enough. She felt a stinging pain in her side, and only moments later started to feel dizzy. She swayed, lost her footing and fell to the ground, hitting her temple hard at the edge of the coffee table.

Pablo, with a sad smile, held up a syringe. "Insulin," he said quietly. "Overdose. All I gotta do now is prevent you from getting to your sweets as long as you'd still be able to eat. Shouldn't be too long now." He grabbed Mac and dragged her onto the couch, applying an amazing amount of strength to the Marine that already wasn't quite able to defend herself anymore.

"You were the one who killed Meryl, weren't you?" she managed to ask in a hoarse voice while her vision began to swim. 'Harm!' she silently, desperately called out, knowing he'd never make it in time. How would he know she needed him? And Jeannine, the only one who was likely to come to the apartment, would be being questioned right now and not likely to show up. 'Harm, I need your help!'

"Good thinking, Colonel," Pablo replied coldly. "The family couldn't let Meryl run around and ruin our business. Whereas with you... consider it my personal revenge for betraying me the way you did, Patricia. I couldn't believe it when Maribel told me this morning."

But his last remark already went unnoticed by Mac who'd by now lost consciousness. Pablo just sat by and watched, smiling his thin, sad smile.
Same time Outside House Mistral Dwayne Myers Naval College Long Island, N.Y.
Once Harm had written down her testimony, Jeannine had been dismissed to prepare herself for the concert. Relieved that the horror she was going through might shortly come to an end, she had immediately set off for her apartment, hoping she might be able to even take a little nap before having to prepare for leaving.

When she arrived at her dorm, she was astonished to find Maribel Gonzalez standing in front of the entrance, obviously waiting for her. Jeannine chose to ignore her and tried to get past her to reach the door. But Maribel stepped in the way, glaring at the petite blonde in front of her.

"No way you're going in there right now, Cadet."

Jeannine had a feeling of alarm. "What's up?" She stared back.

"My brother needs to finish something."

Hearing that remark, Jeannine inwardly snapped to red alert. "Let me through!" she yelled, trying to push the tall woman away. She had to get to Mac!

Maribel only laughed, standing her ground. "I told you, no way you're going in there right now."

'Damn sure I am,' Jeannine thought grimly and, thinking of how Mac would probably handle this, she decided she'd either do it or die trying. Tightly clenching her fist, never breaking the eye contact with Maribel, Jeannine said, deadly calm: "Let - me - pass."

"Go to hell."

"Go yourself." With that, a quick, well-aimed right cross hit Maribel to the classic knockout point under her chin. The tall woman went down without so much as an 'ouch'.

Jeannine sped up the stairs, found her door half open and froze at the sight of Pablo sitting calmly beside an obviously unconscious Mac. 'God, don't let it happen again!' Jeannine prayed as she, trembling, sneaked into her room, unseen by Pablo, and instantly dialed Harm's cell-phone number on her telephone.

"Rabb?"

"Commander, it's Jeannine," she whispered agitatedly.

Harm had immediately detected the fear in her voice. "What's up, Cadet?"

"Pablo's trying to kill Mac!"

She heard Harm gasp. "Where are you?"

"Our apartment."

Harm didn't even acknowledge her response. Jeannine just heard the line go dead and prayed that Mac would hang on until he arrived. In the meantime, she desperately thought about a plan to save her friend without being taken down by Pablo first. Not that she feared the situation - but attempts at heroism wouldn't be of any help right now. And she knew she didn't have the hint of a chance against the broad-shouldered Columbian.

But a loud noise of wood cracking and splintering saved her from further actions. Jeannine just watched as Harm, closely followed by Fred, entered the apartment, having forced the door. Both officers were tightly clutching their guns, instantly pointing them at Pablo whose expression conveyed utmost shock. This wasn't supposed to happen.

As Harm saw his Marine lying motionless on the couch, he lost it completely. He ran over and, in no time, had a dumbfounded Pablo pinned beneath him. He could see the utmost fear in the young man's eyes as he put his gun to Pablo's temple.

"You bastard!" Harm shouted, his voice shaking. "What did you do to her?"

Pablo didn't respond but just stared back at the tall commander who right now held Pablo's life in his hands.

"Answer me!" Harm cried, forcefully nudging the weapon against the Columbian's head.

Fred thought it wise to intervene. Otherwise Harm might do something that he might regret for the rest of his life. Quickly joining him, he knelt down and, meeting Harm's wild glare, said as calmly as he could: "I'll take care of him now, sir. You get the Colonel to the infirmary, I really suggest you do, sir!"

Harm emerged from his daze, instantly got a clear picture of the situation and cast Fred a quick grateful look.

Meanwhile Jeannine had noticed a small object that must have rolled under the coffee-table more or less from where Mac was lying. She instantly ran over, picked it up and recognized it as an empty insulin pen. "Oh God, sir," she blurted out, startling the officers, "She's had an insulin overdose. Hurry!"

"Oh God..." Harm let Fred take the job of exercising a precise blow on Pablo's head to take him out and let Jeannine bind him like she had the kidnappers. He himself effortlessly lifted Mac to his arms and, running for his - her - life, carried her to the infirmary.

"She's had an insulin overdose, get a glucose IV ready, ASAP!" he shouted to the first nurse they came across. Seeing the haunted look on Harm's ashen face, the woman didn't even think about arguing. She started to run down the corridor, in no time came back with a doctor and soon Mac had highly concentrated sugar trickling into her vein.

Harm sat down beside Mac's bed, firmly holding on to her hand, not caring that the nurse shot him an odd look, thinking that this professor cared far too much about his student.

Fred stood by quietly, his hand on Harm's shoulder, worried for both his friends who, in the short time he had known them, had already grown very close to him and Claire. And he was thanking God that it wasn't Claire lying there. He could only imagine what the commander had to be going through right now.

Clearing her throat, the nurse stepped up to the bed, puzzled that the commander didn't seem to care that she saw him fraternize with one of his students. "Uhm... sir, I need the cadet's name and a few other things for the register."

Harm's eyes were blank when he looked up at her, never releasing Mac's hand. The nurse, against her better judgment, began to feel pity for him. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, United States Marine Corps, Chief of Staff to the U.S. Navy's JAG," Harm said tonelessly and instantly turned his focus back to Mac who still didn't show any sign of awakening yet.

The nurse all but dropped her pad. "Excuse me, sir?" she asked hoarsely.

Fred sensed that Harm needed to be with Mac, entirely. So he gently took the woman's arm and led her to the other end of the room.

"Uhm, Ensign.... Carter," he read her name tag, "You heard the commander right. The colonel's been conducting an undercover investigation in the college. You might find her in your students list as Cadet Second Year Patricia O'Hara. She's been the commander's working partner for more than seven years now. That's why they're so close."

Ensign Carter gulped down her astonishment and, instead of asking for details, interviewed Fred about the necessary data she needed. The task finished, she looked at the couple. "I guess we might let them have some privacy then, sir," she said softly. "If everything goes well she should wake up soon."

Fred gave her a small grateful smile and led her outside.

Harm was sitting motionless at Mac's side, silently praying. He couldn't lose her now. What would his life be without her? The same void it had been until Venice. And an eternal torment, knowing they could have been together, had she lived. 'God, no, please, don't do this to me!' he pleaded frantically.

He jumped when he suddenly felt her hand slightly return his squeeze.

"Mac?"

"Harm... what..." her strained voice trailed off.

Fighting down his tears of relief, Harm bent over her, softly kissing her forehead. "Hang on, Marine," he whispered, not trusting his voice.

Mac, through her slowly fading daze, forced her eyes to focus on the face above her. "Harm..."

"I'm here, honey, I'm right here," he said soothingly, stroking her head.

"What happened? Pablo..."

Harm swallowed at the thought of what might have happened, hadn't Jeannine been quick enough to get to him. Both of them now owed their lives to that incredibly brave girl, he realized.

"Jeannine was the one to save you. Again," he softly told her. "She returned in time to find Pablo at your apartment and called me on my cell- phone."

Mac felt him shudder briefly. With the glucose IV nearing its end, her world quickly came into focus again. 'Thank God hypoglycemia has no further lasting effects,' she thought. Still feeling a little groggy, she nevertheless managed to slowly sit up and hug him tightly.

Harm held on to her as if his life depended on it. "My Marine, so near to losing you once again..." Was that a sob? She wondered.

"It's over now, flyboy," she whispered soothingly, "I'm with you. But you could do me a favor..."

He pulled back and, for the first time, allowed himself a slight smile. "Anything, Sarah."

She smiled back, quickly coming back to her normal self now as the glucose began to work in her body. "Give me something else to think about, something totally unrelated to this damn case and something that'll make me happy. Can you come up with something of the sort?" She looked at him challengingly.

Harm decided that, although he had planned everything a little differently, this would nevertheless be the right moment to get his plan to work. He'd come too close to losing her once again. Gently lowering her to her pillow, he reached into the inside pocket of his dress whites and, with an enigmatical smile, handed her an official-looking envelope.

"I think I might just be up to the task. You able to read, Marine?" he only asked.

Quizzically raising her eyebrows at him, she only nodded and unfolded the letter.

Subject: Regarding Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. and Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, both assigned to the Judge Advocate General Corps

Answering to a special request ventured by Undersecretary of State Clayton Webb, referring to a wish expressed by the USN Judge Advocate General, Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden, I declare that the senior lawyer team assigned to JAG Headquarters, Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., USN, and Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, USMC, receive the guarantee not to be obliged to change designator, regardless of whatever facts might suggest the necessity.

Any event or situation whatsoever that is connected to Cmdr. Rabb and Lt. Col. Mackenzie and might cause conflict with chain-of-command regulations is to be considered of minor importance. In the interest of achieving continuity, regarding thoroughly conducted investigations and carefully researched and successfully argued court-martials, JAG Headquarters must not be deprived of its most efficient and successful personnel who set an example of excellent work to the entire JAG staff.

Signed, Secretary of the Navy Nelson, Department of Defense

Mac had to read the letter twice before the full meaning of the words hit her. Unable to utter a syllable, she stared at the sheet, her hands starting to tremble. "Clay..." she finally managed to say, still not looking up.

"Yeah..." she heard her partner acknowledge softly.

Mac swallowed and turned her head in Harm's direction - and her heart skipped several beats.

Harm was holding his hand out to her, palm up, and on it lay a simple, stunningly beautiful diamond solitaire. Mac's eyes switched back and forth between the ring and Harm's face, needing a few moments to put two and two together. As she noticed that her partner's expression was getting increasingly frightened the longer she was hesitating, she finally allowed herself to let out the breath that had caught in her throat. Tears were starting to form in her eyes but she didn't mind. A radiant smile broke through her puzzled frown.

"Harm... do you... I mean..."

Having already seen his dreams dissolve at her hesitation, Harm now dared to hope. He cleared his throat and in a very low voice said: "I told you I'd ask properly, didn't I? So here goes: Sarah, will you marry me?"

A sob prevented her from answering immediately, but she gulped it down and, slowly extending her left hand in his direction, palm down, replied in a shaky voice: "With all my heart, Harm."

As he gently took her hand in his, Mac could feel that he was trembling. Seemingly in awe about what they had just agreed upon, he slowly slid the ring on her finger. Then he looked up at her again, not knowing what to say.

"It's beautiful, Harm," Mac whispered, studying the ring.

"It's Grandma Sarah's," he replied. "She told me long ago to ask for it, should I ever find a woman I could love as much as she loved my granddad. Mom would always keep it for me 'cause Gram said it could be sent quicker from where they live than from where she does, in case it had to be a quick delivery. There isn't any UPS office or something in Beallsville and Gram doesn't trust Postal services in the rural area she lives in. Anyway, when I told my mom to send the ring over, she gave a scream that half of La Jolla must have heard." He chuckled slightly, avoiding her eyes and studying their entwined hands instead.

Mac felt overwhelming relief flood through her veins. All her fears that his commitment would be one of responsibility, not of love, had vanished in an instant. Now she couldn't wait to give him the news of their baby... Oh God. With all that had happened, the knowledge of her pregnancy had completely slipped from her mind. Nothing too surprising, given the fact that she'd only learned about it ten minutes prior to Pablo's assault. But what if anything had happened to their child?

Harm looked up sharply as, all of a sudden, he felt her fingers clench around his. All color had drained from her face.

"Mac! What's up?" Adrenaline instantly shot up high in his body.

"Harm! Get me Claire, please, I need her right now!" Mac's voice was shaking.

Not taking the time to ask, he jumped to his feet and hurried out of the room, fate being kind to him, as he saw Fred and his fiancée walk up the corridor just as he wanted to start running to their quarters.

"Claire! Come in quickly," he shouted, "Mac needs you!"

Claire instantly sped to Mac's bedside, Fred close in her tracks.

Mac looked up to her with an expression of utmost dread. "Claire," she whispered, "Can insulin do any harm? Please, say it won't," she begged.

Harm only looked frantically from one to the other, exchanging helpless looks with an equally clueless Fred. Harm felt he wanted to shake either of the women, to make them tell him what he obviously wasn't supposed to know. Was there a further threat that his Marine was hiding from him?

Claire soothingly put one hand on Mac's head while she studied the data on the pad Ensign Carter had left at her bedside. Fred could tell his fiancée was inwardly tense, but eventually she seemed to relax. And even Harm managed to calm down as he finally saw a small smile appear on the young woman's face.

"I don't think you need to worry, Mac," she said gently. "You've been enormously lucky, sure, but you know, when a person loses consciousness, that means that the body tries to focus on keeping the essential parts alive. And growing life is as essential as anything. At least to nature. Everything should be fine. We'll do some tests tomorrow, if you like. But I want you to relax, okay?"

Mac only swallowed and nodded, her face by now mirroring Claire's smile.

Harm sat thunderstruck. "Did you..." his voice caught in his throat. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Claire, did you just say what I think you said or does what I think you just said mean what I think it does or..." he stopped, lost.

At that, Mac burst out laughing, Fred and Claire immediately joining in. Harm's expression was hilarious.

"Hey, tell me!" he protested.

Claire managed to get a grip. "You heard me right, Harm," she said with a slight chuckle. "In a little less than nine months you're gonna be a daddy."

Harm looked at Mac, dumbfounded. "But didn't you say..."

She smiled back, just a little unsure about how to interpret his reaction. "I... well, I forgot that I had been sick when I had that concussion, remember? The first band rehearsal..."

For a few more moments Harm just stared. Fear was beginning to rise in Mac's eyes. But then, all of a sudden, Harm jumped to his feet, grabbed his cover, tossed it in the air and, catching it, shouted: "I'm gonna be a dad!!!"

His reaction caused new, relieved fits of laughter. Harm, cheeks flushed with excitement, beaming radiantly, sat down again at Mac's bedside, taking her hand. "Thanks, Mac," he said, overwhelmed. He looked at his fiancée, whose cheeks were rosy with excitement as well and whose dark eyes were sparkling. He just couldn't get over how lucky he was.

Her glance was one of pure joy. "Thanks to you, flyboy," she softly answered, "For keeping your promise."

"It hasn't been five years, yet," he reminded her with a smirk, "But I think we make it count. What do you say, Colonel?"

"Absolutely." With that she let herself be drawn into a tight embrace.

Suddenly she heard Claire gasp sharply. They broke apart and looked up, curious.

"Mac! Is that an engagement ring you're wearing?" Claire asked, incredulous.

"Yup!" Mac answered gleefully.

"Congratulations, sir!" Fred patted Harm on the back, grinning widely, determining not to wonder about anything those two superiors of his would come up with. Later would be enough time to clear the details.

"Thanks, Fred," Harm said with a heartfelt sigh. "Took me long enough. Speaking of long enough," he added, glancing at his watch, "We have to get ready. In half an hour we have to leave on our bus trip to Carnegie hall. I've got a concert to conduct, remember?"

"Claire," Mac's voice had a decidedly begging tone. "This will most probably be the one and only occasion in my life that I get to play on stage at Carnegie Hall. Can I go, please?"

"I'd never thought you'd even be as wise as to ask," Claire stated, caught off guard. Harm and Fred just stared at the suddenly all too reasonable colonel. Claire went on: "From what I heard you do what you want, anyway. But as you did ask and if you promise to be a good girl and take it easy: yes, Colonel, you may go."

"Then let's not keep them waiting," Mac replied with a huge grin as she allowed Harm to support her while she climbed out of bed, utterly surprising him for the second time in one minute with this new, docile attitude of hers.

'Obviously motherhood works miracles...' Fred thought by himself, hiding his knowing grin.
2148 ZULU Harm's apartment Dwayne Myers Naval College Long Island, N.Y.
"Ma'am, sir, I'm so happy for you, so happy!" Harriet's cheeks were flushed with excitement as she tightly hugged Mac.

"But, excuse me, sir," Bud carefully asked Harm, "Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy for you and the colonel, but what about the regs? What if Singer..."

"Don't worry, Bud. All settled. Read this." Harm good-naturedly handed him the Secnav's letter and watched his junior officer's eyes go wide as he read.

"Wow... sir, this is... how did you... I mean..." he stopped, lost.

Harm chuckled. "Webb," he said simply. At that, a grin slowly spread over Bud's face.

Harriet stepped up to her husband and peeped over his shoulder. "Oh my God!!!" she only exclaimed and motioned Fred and Claire to come and read as well.

"Ma'am, sir, I don't know Agent Webb too well, but from what you told me about how he normally acts... well, I guess he felt he really did owe you this time," Fred stated with a smile.

"Seems so," Mac answered, smirking. "But now we've got a mere ten minutes left to get ready and get to the plaza. What did the MPs do about Pablo? And, God, Harm, did you contact Cadet First Year Hannah Brown? We'll need her clarinet! Pablo's not gonna play."

"I'm beginning to get sick of clarinets," Harm murmured as he instantly rushed over to the telephone. "Cadet Stiller? Can you give me the number of Cadet First Year Hannah Brown? I need to... oh, you already called her... you, what?"

Grinning, Harm covered the receiver and hissed to his friends: "Listen to this: when tied up Pablo and called the MPs, the first thing she did was ask for access to his apartment to retrieve his Goodman scores and then call Cadet Brown!" He tried to swallow his astonished laughter and turned back to the telephone.

"Yes, Cadet?... She's up to it? Great... good work, Cadet! See you in ten... yes, she's fine... yes, she's gonna play, hypoglycemia doesn't last long if you get enough sugar back into the system... yeah... I see... I'll do that. Mac sends you her love. Bye, Cadet Stiller." Harm put the receiver down and grinned contently. "Everything's under control."

Mac turned to Harriet. "Harriet, I'm feeling okay, but just in case, I... uhm... I might need you while I take a little express shower. I have to, ran too much to get back and get help. Just be present in the bathroom, just in case I get dizzy, okay?"

"Sure, ma'am," Harriet complied. "I've got your dress blues ready. Got them from the car and brought them here while you were out of it."

"Thanks, Harriet." Then Mac turned to the rest of the assembly. "I'm sure Harm's got a good clothes brush. See that you get your dress whites in order, people. I still don't get it how you manage to keep them clean when you're wearing them, especially with today's events. I had mine covered with something the minute I put them on."

Harm grinned a little nastily. "It's a Navy thing, Mac."

"Jerk!" With a laugh she vanished into the bathroom while Harm, Fred, Bud and Jeannine busied themselves to brush the traces of the day's events off their clothes. Harm had a stain of dried blood on the collar from his initial injury. But with a little cold water from the sink, Claire managed to clean it off almost completely. Bud's uniform trousers were a little stained where the kidnappers had previously kicked his stump. But in this particular case it was even lucky that the trousers hung loosely around his prosthesis. The dirt could pass for a shadow of a fold if you didn't look too closely. A button was missing from Fred's uniform jacket but as the Italian dress whites had the front buttons covered anyway, it wouldn't be noticed. Fred readjusted his royal blue sash so that it passed right over the missing button, thus keeping the jacket closed firmly. Only Claire had to replace her skirt with matching trousers as her climbing onto the boathouse roof had caused stains that wouldn't come out by simply brushing them. Fred quickly supplied the needed item from his quarters where she had left her luggage.

Just then, Mac reemerged from the bathroom, clad in her usual dress blues, all herself again - finally! She approached Harm with her make-up case. "Flyboy... would you please see to my forehead?"

Two minutes later, the six of them hurried to meet the rest of the band on the main plaza. Just before turning around the last corner, Harm gallantly held his arm out to Mac. "Ready for the show?" he asked her with a dashing flyboy-grin.

"Let's go, sailor!" she only shot back, grinning, taking his arm. The other four, curious how everyone would react, let the couple walk in front.

Cassandra was the first to see them. "Holy shit!!!" was all she exclaimed before staring with her mouth wide open.

Instantly, the murmurs stopped and everyone turned in their direction. A faint 'thud' told of a bag that had just dropped to the floor somewhere. Harm and Mac smiled easily at the group as they approached.

"Att... attention on deck!" Danny shouted half-heartedly. Everyone woke from their shock and snapped to attention. Harm thought the plaza had never been this quiet.

"At ease. Cadets, I'm sorry we're a little late but, uh, something's come up that had to be taken care of first. I'm sorry, too, for the little game of hide-and-seek we had to play but my partner here..." he cast a brilliant smile at an equally smiling Mac, "Had to do a little research from the insiders' prospective. Nothing worth talking about, actually, you could call it routine in the end."

At this, Jeannine started to desperately bite her lower lip, trying to stifle her laughter. She didn't know why Harm didn't tell the truth but he must have had a good reason for wanting to keep the Gonzalez affair quiet. And she agreed that the others didn't need to know about the nature of Meryl's death. She'd ask Mac for details after the concert, she decided.

"Anyway," Harm went on, "As we're now finished with the investigation, I might as well present my partner to you. Cadets, I'd like you to meet Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Catherine Mackenzie, United States Marine Corps, Chief of Staff to the United States Navy's Judge Advocate General. And my fiancée," he added with a smile after a short pause.

A sharp gasp, both from Cassandra and Dorothy, was the immediate answer.

Harm went on: "I also want to welcome Cadet Brown as a regular member of the band now. You've done some of the rehearsals as have the other substitutes, but as Pablo Gonzalez asks you all to excuse him as he's suddenly ill..." Harm managed to look slightly grave for a moment, "You're the lucky one to step in, Cadet Brown. You feel up to the task?"

"Yes, sir!" came the answer, along with a radiant beam, from the excited young girl.

"Good. So I suggest we get on the bus and move. Is the colonel's drum already stored?"

The students exchanged astonished glances at the prospect that the Chief of Staff at JAG would actually take her place in their band's back row.

"I've seen to it, sir," Jeannine said immediately.

"Thank you, Cadet Stiller. So, Cadets, this is it. How do you feel?" Harm asked cheerfully.

No one dared to answer. He frowned. "It's not that I've grown a second head or something, is it? Just accept that Cadet O'Hara's wearing blue today, okay?"

Slowly, the tension began to dissipate. Harm decided to try again and get his band into concert mood. "So, you up to the challenge, Cadets?"

"Yes, sir!" all shouted in unison as they came to attention again, many of them hiding grins. 'Cute couple, Rabb and O'Hara...'
Mon, June 22nd 0325 ZULU Carnegie Hall New York City, N.Y.
Harm felt stunned, dazed, swept away... standing in the middle of a bright spotlight, he bowed to an enthusiastic audience that he couldn't see because, from the brightly-lit stage, the dark auditorium seemed just one enormous blackness devoid of any distinguishable forms. But he could hear people cheer and wildly clap their hands. All for him, in this one short moment. He savored it, letting a relieved, full-blown flyboy-grin grace his features, and then quickly stepped aside, gesturing to the musicians who, more than he, deserved the ovations for having performed one singular, perfect show.

Lt. Cmdr. Laird had come to wish him luck before the concert, once again telling him about the many emails he had continuously been receiving from his students who seemed to very much like Harm's way of working with them. "You'll do just fine, sir," he had told him with a reassuring smile, slightly patting the back of a very pale and incredibly nervous Harm.

What hadn't really helped Harm's stage fright, had been Laird's news that the Hall was completely sold out, as the city's administration had turned the college concert into a major social event, combined with fundraisings for several charitable institutions. Harm had been sure his knees would buckle when he stepped onto that stage. And seeing that Fred's face matched the color of his dress whites hadn't helped either.

But eventually he'd realized that Fred, after all, was a professional musician. The moment the backstage door had been opened for the two of them to step on stage, the lieutenant had straightened his shoulders, taken a deep breath, put on a dashing smile and seemingly easily gone out into the lion's den. Harm had simply followed his example.

While Fred had been doing the solo pieces, Harm had reveled in the secure feeling of sitting in the middle of a group, being a part of it. But as soon as he'd had to stand up and be the conductor, he'd thought he'd lose it. He'd instantly sought out Mac's reassuring glance - easy task, now that she was the only one in a blue uniform - and she'd helped him through the evening as she'd said she would.

Mac had had the time of her life playing on that stage. Now that she finally didn't have to watch out for her cover anymore, she was as excited as any of the students. From her seat in the back that was raised slightly above the other rows, she had been able to face the auditorium from a slightly different angle and subsequently hadn't been blinded by the spotlights. She'd seen them all, sitting in the fourth row: Bud, Harriet, Claire, the admiral, Tiner, Sturgis and Bobbi, Webb, even Carolyn had flown in from Great Lakes. And next to her, to her utmost astonishment, she had detected Gunny Galindez who probably was on home leave right now. Then came Harm's parents, Sergei and... no, that couldn't be possible: Chloe with her father and grandmother! The admiral must have pulled some strings to have them all come. Mac hadn't seen Singer, though. Well, who cared?

But most of the time Mac kept her eyes on Harm. Her fiancé. The father of her child. He had certainly acquired remarkable conducting skills by now and he succeeded to be enough of a professional to lead his musicians swiftly and never let them off the hook unless he wanted to. Often enough, though, Harm deliberately stepped aside to let his soloists lead the way just as they needed it for their parts. 'A gentleman even on stage,' Mac thought happily. He looked breathtaking in his dress whites, as always. And, with the help of his well-dosed smile, he succeeded in motivating the musicians ever more, up to the grand finale: Fred playing 'Stardust'. Mac leaned back in her seat, her left hand on her drum, subconsciously placing her right hand on her belly. She closed her eyes and finally allowed herself to be happy. Absolutely, unlimitedly, overwhelmingly happy.

Just then, Harm motioned for Fred to step into the spotlight to bow. The young lieutenant's cheeks were flushed and his smile matched Harm's. 'They could pass for brothers,' Mac stated to herself. As Fred had joined Harm a little further to the side, it was Jeannine's turn to step forward. Mac could tell she was in her element. Beaming radiantly and firmly holding her flute in her right hand, Jeannine exercised an elegant courtesy and graced the whole audience with a carefully aimed look around. 'Another professional,' Mac thought, amused. She saw Chloe clapping wildly. It was quite natural that the very young and fragile-looking petite blonde must have especially impressed her with her gorgeous playing.

Then Harm detected a little movement in the open doorway that led backstage. Lt. Cmdr. Peter Laird was enthusiastically applauding to his own band and to him, Harm, who had taken the spot he, Laird, should have been in tonight. Out of the impulse of a moment, Harm took three quick strides to join him and gently pulled him on stage before Laird realized what was happening to him.

There he stood in the spotlight, embarrassedly bowing to a public that knew very well who he was - the magazines had been full of the event, telling the story why Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. had had to fill in once again for a concert. Laird bit his lip to control his commotion as, in the end, he got to have his dream come true - being on stage at Carnegie Hall - the dream he'd had to let go of when Wells had told him that Harm would take his place. Smiling, Harm motioned for Fred and Jeannine to get their instruments and retrieved his conductor's baton to put it into an overwhelmed Laird's hand. Then Harm sat down next to Jeannine, taking his guitar, and watched, more than a little touched, as Laird bit his lip once more to prevent it from quivering.

The public settled down again and Laird, finally allowing himself to smile ever more, raised his baton and cued the band into the 'Da Capo' of everyone's favorite piece: 'Stardust'.

'I am damn proud of you, squid!' Mac quickly wiped away a tear of commotion from the corner of her eye and, as Harm casually turned his head in her direction, mouthed: 'I love you!' It didn't matter anymore if anyone noticed.

Down in the fourth row, AJ Chegwidden tried in vain to wipe his proud grin off his face. Although he suspected that his officers had gotten themselves into serious trouble more than once during this investigation, they seemed to have wrapped it up neatly, ready to be unpacked in court. And they had managed to do it quietly. Thinking of a rather particular letter that had arrived the other day from the Department of Defense, accompanied by a call from Webb, AJ appreciated even more that word of the affair hadn't leaked out.

AJ had never let drop a single word in front of Nelson that he expected problems with chain-of-command regs regarding his senior team. In dealing with the Secnav, Webb had expressed AJ's wish of keeping Harm and Mac without so much as informing him, but for once in his life, AJ absolutely agreed with the unusual measures everyone's favorite spook had taken. Now that Harm and Mac had indeed succeeded in fulfilling their half of this extraordinary treaty by keeping Dwayne Myers out of the headlines, AJ dared to hope that he'd never have to face the decision that he'd been dreading for so many years now: keeping his most successful team or supporting his friends' personal happiness.

He had been watching his protégés intently during the whole evening. Not a single glance, smile or wink that they'd exchanged had escaped his notice. Ever since Venice when he'd first had his suspicions, AJ had tried to make out signs that they had indeed gotten closer. But Rabb and Mackenzie were professionals. Their behavior in the office had been immaculate. And even outside the office he had waited in vain to stumble across any little display of personal involvement. But tonight all seemed different. With Mac's cover broken, there was no need whatsoever for them to conceal their relationship now, knowing that they were protected by an agreement with the Secnav himself. AJ's affectionate heart had warmed at the tenderness that was now displaying openly between his 'kids' - finally! 'Well, JAG's a family,' he happily stated to himself. 'I daresay it's time for a couple of grandchildren who don't bear the name of Roberts!'
Epilogue Sat, August 1st 1635 ZULU Anglican Church, Campo San Vio Dorsoduro, Venice Italy
As the last verse of the hymn was sung, Cadet Jeannine Stiller felt her stomach tighten. 'This is it,' she thought happily, 'Now we'll get the true happy end to this story!' When Mac had called her a few weeks ago and asked her to be her Maid of Honor, she had been unable to trust her ears. With a trembling voice she had accepted the honor, and her composure had been completely lost as Mac had gone on, asking her if she'd agree to lend her name to their unborn child, should it turn out to be a girl. Jeannine knew that this didn't mean that she were to become a godparent - this task fell upon the Lieutenants Roberts. But hearing Mac explain their choice of name, had made her cry with commotion: "If we're to have a girl, we would like to name her Patricia, after Harm's mother, and Jeannine, after the friend who saved both our lives during the assignment that we were in when the child was conceived. If you consent to it, Janni." She had gladly consented.

Glancing at the girl standing next to her, she found her smiling back, quickly taking her hand and squeezing it in mutual happiness. Chloe Madison was just as excited as she was. A third hand was placed on top of theirs now: Harriet Sims-Roberts, Matron of Honor, tried to put into her squeeze all remainders of calm she might still possess. With a reassuring smile at the pale but beaming girls, she especially gave Jeannine the necessary feeling of confidence that she was up to the task that she was there to perform.

A happy congregation had gathered in the small church on this sunny Venetian afternoon: the whole extended JAG family including Francesca, the Burnetts along with Grandma Sarah Rabb, Clayton Webb, Harm and Mac's friend Rear Admiral Salvatore Della Rosa, CO of the Venice Port Authority, their still closer friend from the Venice Police Department, Commissario Amedeo De Carlo, both accompanied by their wives. Captain Wells had flown in from New York, together with Lt. Cmdr. Peter Laird and his fiancée, and they had even brought the entire college band on an extended school trip to perform during the service. But the most beautiful surprise to Mac had been that AJ and Webb had managed to arrange a special leave for Colonel Matthew O'Hara who had led his niece down the aisle.

At a sign from the priest, Jeannine now stepped closer to the altar. From the other side of the aisle, Sergei Zhukov, for this special occasion allowed to once again put on his Russian uniform, did the same. All looked over to the two figures in white standing in the center of attention, and they silently agreed that they'd rarely seen anything so touching.

Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., just a little pale but smiling from the bottom of his heart, took both hands of his beautiful bride in his and listened as the priest spoke the words that were to change his life forever:

"Do you, Harmon David, take Sarah Catherine to be your lawful wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honor and protect her, in good as in bad times, in wealthy as in poor days, in health as in sickness, till death do you part?"

Seeing nothing else than Mac's loving glance, Harm took a deep breath and, with all the love and honesty that he possibly managed to put into his voice, softly but clearly answered: "I do."

In the brief moment of silence that followed his vow, Harm took in the sight of his wife-to-be: Mac was in a simple long white dress without so much as a hint of any decorative elements besides the thin strips of lace that went around the hem of each short sleeve, and she had his mother's bridal veil attached to her beautifully pinned up hair at the back of her head. Her cheeks were flushed a little more than usual and an incredible amount of love was radiating from her huge dark eyes. 'Thank you, God, for letting me find such a treasure,' Harm thought, overwhelmed.

Feeling all the warmth and tenderness that his smile conveyed to her, Mac, tears brimming in her eyes, looked at the tall man that stood in front of her in his dress whites, his gold wings in the right place as always. 'This is all you ever dreamed of, Sarah,' she silently told herself, her heart beating loud, 'Now prove to yourself and to God that you deserve it.' As the priest addressed her, she swallowed and subconsciously held her breath.

"And do you, Sarah Catherine, take Harmon David to be your lawful wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor and support him, in good as in bad times, in wealthy as in poor days, in health as in sickness, till death do you part?"

Her glance never leaving his, Mac answered in a low but clear voice that rang with joy: "I do."

The priest looked at Sergei who stepped up to him, holding a little cushion with the wedding bands. The handsome young Russian cast yet another shy glance at his petite blonde female counterpart and, not for the first time, received a quick blushing smile in return.

"Take each other's rings as a visible sign of the bond between the two of you," the priest said.

Harm took the smaller ring and, sliding it onto Mac's left hand, declared solemnly: "With this ring, I thee wed, with this heart, I thee worship." Mac, a moment later, repeated those exact words as she returned the gesture.

The priest raised his hands and held them over the heads of the couple for the final blessings. "Through the power given to me by the Lord our Father and through the authority entrusted to me by the Republic of Italy, I declare you husband and wife. May man never meddle with what was joined by God."

Sergei now turned to the congregation and with a loud and clear voice announced: "Ladies and gentlemen: Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Rabb, Jr.!" Then, following a very Rabb-ish impulse of the moment, he threw his cover high into the air with a Russian cheer that everyone - in their own languages - joined in.

Upon a conspiratorial wink from the priest, Harm lifted the veil from Mac's face and brought his lips to hers in an exact replica of the chaste kiss they had first shared under the Bridge of Sighs, back in February. And once again, the kiss was to be the promise for so much more that was yet to follow in the many years to come.
THE END

A.N.: Many, many thanks to Kate for beta-reading!