Under the Kosovar Moon
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0900 Commander Harmon Rabb entered the
office and closed the door behind him. Crossing the floor, he settled
himself uneasily upon the corner of the desk, and waited for Colonel
MacKenzie to look up from her paperwork. "What's up, Harm?" she
said, her nose still buried in a thick, busy file. He cleared his throat...this
wasn't going to be easy. "Sarah...I think we need to
talk. I think 'I' need to talk." Mac stopped reading and looked up
at her longtime friend and partner. She could
tell by the look in his eyes, that this was to be the confrontation
they'd been skirting around for months...years, if truth be known. She'd had this conversation with
him many times before...in her mind...in the
wee hours of the night...but now that it was a reality, she was
speechless. Wordlessly she nodded,
her acknowledgement both tacit and mutual. He needed space...room to
breathe...room to think, and she wanted him to have what he required. Harm swallowed hard. He
made his living through verbal manipulation. Why
did words seem to fail him now? "Sarah," he began
again, less confident now, less self-assured. "Maybe this isn't
the right time... or the right place for this conversation...but I need to get it out...it's something I've got to
say..." Gently, he touched her face, as
though to draw courage from the contact...his
hand bridging the gap between them. "Sarah... I've given this a
lot of thought..." A knock. Harm and Mac looked at each
other, their much-needed exchange doomed by the demands of the moment. "Enter." Mac
called, her voice uneasy...frustrated. "Yes, Tiner. What is
it?" "Ma'am...Sir...the Admiral
would like to see you both in his office, ASAP." "We'll be right there,
Tiner." Harm nodded, dismissing the petty
officer. Silently they watched the
Admiral's legal yeoman return to his desk in the
"bullpen". "We still need to talk,
Sarah." Harm reconfirmed, his voice soft and
full of promise. "Are you free for dinner?" Again she nodded, rising to
follow Harm to the Admiral's office. "Sure...how about my
place at "Sound's good," he
agreed, "I'll be there."
................................
"Take a seat." the Admiral
directed. "I need to make this brief." "On Monday in the town of "The protesters were
temporarily stopped at the bridge by French, British
and Canadian peacekeeping forces armed with tear gas and a barricade
of assault vehicles. Given the overwhelming numbers, however, the
barricades were soon breached, and the
situation rapidly fell apart." "On Tuesday...
yesterday...American ground forces, paratroopers from the
29th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) out of "During the execution of
their mission, a car full of drunken soldiers from the Kosovo Liberation
Army, supposedly on our side, decided to join the
protest and began to fire their weapons into the air as they careened
down the main street of Mitrovica. One of our Marines, convinced
that his life was being threatened, opened fire on the vehicle, killing
two of the soldiers, and wounding a third." "Witnesses say that the Marine,
a Coporal Stanley Morgan, failed to warn the passengers or make any attempt
to halt the vehicle prior to firing. Needless to say, both the
provisional, and the Yugoslav governments are screaming for his
head. They want to see Morgan brought up on murder charges...and
they want it now. This, combined with jurisdictional disputes over the
issue, as well as a growing vigilante element, constitutes a virtual
'powder keg', people. We need answers, and we need them fast." "Sir," Mac began,
" I'm sure the Admiral is aware that the 29th MEU was my old unit
during the Bosnian campaign...Josh Clemens was my C.O. at the time. Perhaps
if I contacted..." "You'll be doing more than
that, Colonel. It's my understanding that you have a rudimentary
understanding of the Serb language from your duties in Bosnia?" "Yes, Sir. I needed a
basic vocabulary for depositions and the like." "Well, Colonel, I suggest
you brush off your 'basic vocabulary'. You're going to need
it. As of 1300 HOURS, you and the commander are on your way to
the Balkans." "Sir, that's barely three
hours from now...are things that critical?" "Colonel...as of this
morning, 40,000 Serbs have massed on the north side of the Ibar Bridge, with
another 60,000 ethnic Albanians to the south. The only
confrontation they want more than with each other, is with the American
military. What do you suggest?" "I'll be ready in two hours,
Sir." Mac replied without hesitation, "What's our departure
point?" "We can't wait for a
commercial flight on this one. There'll be a transport waiting for you
and Commander Rabb at Pax River as soon as you can be ready. I'll have Tiner
meet you at the plane with all of the information you'll need." "Any questions?" "No Sir." they replied
in unison. "Very well, then.
Dismissed. Oh, and people, this area is not partial to 'Uncle
Sam's' finest...so watch your backs. Understood?" Aye aye, Sir. Understood
Sir." ................................................................................................
0800 HOURS It had been a long flight. Mac and Harm had spent most of
the night going over the thick dossier given to them by Petty Officer Tiner
at Pax River, their personal issues tabled by tacit consent. They were
met at the Pristina Airport by a young Marine corporal, who quickly stowed
their gear in his Humvee and headed for the city proper. Twenty minutes later, they found
themselves being escorted into what had previously been the main ballroom of
the Pristina's Grand Hotel, twenty-five miles south of Mitrovica, and now
functioning as Marine Headquarters for the current deployment. "Mac! I heard you were
coming! You just can't seem to shake this area, can you?" Josh Clemens
smiled, glad to see his former legal liaison enter the room. "And
who's this Navy commander you have with you?" "Josh, this is Commander
Harmon Rabb. He's my partner at JAG." "Glad to meet you,
Commander." he said, dispensing with military protocol. "You two
have arrived right in the middle of it, I'm afraid. Of course, around
here, 'the middle' is all there is. Sit down...sit down." As the two JAG lawyers settled
in, Colonel Clemens filled them in on the latest events. The situation
had been deteriorating rapidly. The French, who were primarily
responsible for the area around Mitrovica, had called for an additional 700
troops to rein-in the situation, with the possibility of 2000 American troops
to be sent in should that prove to be insufficient. Curfews had been
rolled back to 6 p.m., and weapons searches in the Serb sector of town had
turned up large quantities of small artillery and explosive devices. "The Serbs are in the north,
blaming the Alabanians to the south...the south blames the north...and, as
usual, everyone blames the Americans." Clemens said, his tone
underlining the mind-dulling exhaustion to which he had been subjected. "It's a mess... and it's
getting worse." "You know, clearing up this
issue over Corporal Morgan isn't going to solve all that much...he's just the
tip of the iceberg...a scapegoat." Clemens advised. "But, I'm
glad you're here all the same. I'd hate to see this young man be the
innocent victim of a very old conflict." "Innocent victim?" Harm
interjected. "Do you have information we don't?" "Morgan's one of mine,
Commander. He wouldn't have fired if there wasn't a damn good
reason. I stand behind him 100%." Mac smiled. She wouldn't
have expected any less of her former C.O.. He was loyal to his men, and they
would lay down their lives without question for him. Clemens stretched his lanky
frame, his profound weariness visible with each movement. "Well,
as of this morning, that's all we have. I've arranged for a room here
in the hotel for you both. I'm afraid you'll have to share, if that's
all right." he added sheepishly. "I had to kick six officers
out just to make THAT space available. It's the best I can offer."
Mac accepted graciously.
"That'll be fine, Josh. We appreciate it. We probably won't
be using the room all that much anyway. We'll need to see Corporal
Morgan as soon as possible. Can you arrange for it?" "Already done. He's on
patrol up in Mitrovica right now. I've sent a Jeep to bring him back
here. It shouldn't take more than an hour or two to locate him and
bring him around." "Josh..." Mac replied
warily, "wouldn't it be better if we went up to Mitrovica instead?"
Colonel Josh Clemens gave Mac a
knowing stare. It was an old argument between them. As her former
C.O., he'd frequently tried to shelter her from duties that he felt were
particularly hazardous to females under his command. It was an attitude
that Mac rejected wholeheartedly. "Not necessary,
Mac...Commander. It's already done, so don't kick up a fuss about it."
Though Mac's look said otherwise,
she ceded 'round one' to Clemens. He could be a stubborn man when he dug his
heels in...and it would take a great deal of finesse on her part to sway him.
"I think I'll shower and
change while we're waiting then," she said, grabbing her bag. Can
you send someone up to get us when Corporal Morgan gets hers?" "Sure...no problem.
Take it easy. Around here you never know when you'll get another
chance." Mac and Harm checked the number
on their key and headed up toward their room. The Grand Hotel must have been an
elegant relic of gentler times before recent hostilities, but now it was a
sad reminder of the ravages of a war that no one could win. The
delicately flocked wallpaper in their room, once warm and inviting, now hung
in jagged strips...the victim of wanton vandalism. The curtains,
apparently Belgian lace, were tattered and torn, and the tapestry-like
carpeting bore water stains that attested to a time when the windows must
have been damaged. Only the bed, a giant old
four-poster, remained unscathed. Mac noted the crisp sheets and
military-like cleanliness of the room, and realized that her old C.O. had
taken great pains to make her comfortable. Harm glanced uneasily at the
large double bed. "Looks like I'm sleeping on the couch
again." he grumbled, the ambiguity in his voice barely disguised. Mac chose to ignore the comment,
opting instead to check the condition of the bathroom. Again she saw
evidence that Josh Clemens had indeed prepared for their arrival. It
was spotless, and fresh towels sat waiting on the sink for their use. She smiled...that was like
Josh. He'd been a considerate man back in the old days, and nothing had
changed. "Well," she said to the
room in general, "I plan to take a hot bath while I have the
chance. Is there anything we need to discuss before I 'retreat'?" "Well..." Harm began
uneasily, the intimate confines of the room reminding him of the discussion
that had been cut short at JAG Headquarters, "I...um...I..." "We're going to need an
extra key." he said, abandoning his original line of thought.
"I think I'll go down and see what I can rustle up. Enjoy your
bath..." he mumbled, heading back out into the hallway, the door closing
softly behind him. Mac gazed at the empty room, her
feelings as torn as the wallpaper around her. Harm, it seemed, had
reached a turning point in their relationship. She didn't envy
him. She'd reached it long ago...and knew it could be painful. ............................................................................................
1000 HOURS "Commander! Come
on in and have a drink...on the house." Josh Clemens smiled.
"I thought you'd be resting while you waited for Morgan to get
here." "Well...Mac is taking a
bath...I thought I'd give her a little privacy. What about you...don't you
ever leave this place?" "Once in a while...but this
war seems to find me wherever I go, so it doesn't make much difference."
"I can understand
that." Harm nodded. "Hey...I see you're a Naval
aviator. You wouldn't be the same Commander Rabb who pushed that F-14
out of the 'boonies' by its tailhook, would you?" "Yeah...I'm the one.
You heard about that?" "Everyone's heard about
that...you're a hero, Commander." "Call me Harm, Colonel, and
I just got lucky. It could have gone sour, then everyone would be
talking about what an idiot I'd been. It just wasn't my day to 'punch
out'." "Right...call me Josh, and
have another drink." "Mind telling me how long
you've known Mac? You two seem to get along well together." the
older man questioned. "We've been working together
roughly four years now. Why?" "She's a friend of
yours?" "Yeah...a good friend.
Why are you asking?" "I just wanted to know what
kind of 'spin' you'd place on what I'm going to tell you." Clemens
responded. "If there's something I
should know...just spit it out. Don't worry about 'spin'." Harm
said, wondering what was coming next. "Well...if you've worked
with her that long, then you probably know that it can be hard to get her to
listen to reason once she gets the 'bit' in her teeth." Harm flashed back on his many
encounters with Mac's 'bull headedness' over the years. To say that he "knew"
about that side of her was a gross understatement. "Yeah...it's come to my
attention a few times." he grinned. "Well then, you should have
some perspective on what I'm going to say... Mac shouldn't be here." "I don't know about
that." Harm said, defending his friend's military adeptness.
"Mac's a competent officer...a good Marine. She knows how to
handle herself, and I have no reason to believe that she can't handle this
too." "Commander...Harm...from
what I hear, your only view of Kosovo was from a few thousand feet up.
It's not the same down here in the mud. Young, attractive women vanish
every day...no one ever sees them again. Mac's being a part of the
American military just makes her an even more tempting target. She's
just not safe." "With all due respect,
Josh...is anyone really safe here? I mean, this is a war zone...it's
unsafe by definition." "A lot of these kidnapped
girls are sold into sexual bondage. That's not something any of my
'Jarheads' are going to have to worry about...but it's a real threat to
Mac." Harm got the point, and it didn't
rest easily. Josh continued. "I
know there's nothing you can do about her being here. When she was
under my command, she even talked me into letting her do a recon mission
behind enemy lines! But...keep an eye on her. Don't leave her
alone...not for anything." "Mac did recon in
Bosnia? I thought she was your legal liaison." Well...she was...but something
came up. One of my air recon planes was shot down behind enemy
lines. She and John Farrow from the 24th MEU went in and got my flier
out...just by the skin of their teeth, I might add." The name, John Farrow, struck a
cord with Harm. Farrow had been Mac's first C.O. in Okinawa, he'd recommended
her for law school...and he'd been her lover. Why hadn't Mac ever told
him about this? "Anyway...there are times
when Mac's a little too 'Semper Fi' for her own good, and reasoning with her
is a lost cause. So...watch her, okay? John Farrow just about
'cut me a new one' the last time I let her do something like this...I don't
want to give him a reason for a replay." "You mean Farrow knows she's
here?" "You know...I don't want to
be 'telling tales' here. Maybe I've said too much already, but I had to
warn you. God knows, it wouldn't do any good to warn Mac." "This wouldn't by any chance
have anything to do with our sharing a room, would it?" Harm questioned,
suspicion raising its awkward head. "Of course not."
Clemens replied, his demeanor saying something entirely different.
"Mac would never have put up with that, now would
she."
................................ Room 312 The Grand Hotel Harm was sitting in a chair going
over a file when Mac entered the room, a towel wrapped snugly around her
warm, dewy flesh. "I need to get dressed,
Harm. The bathroom is too damp to do it in there. Would you mind
turning around? Grinning, Harm spun around 360
degrees, then settled back into his seat. "Very funny...now
TURN!" Harm turned towards the window
and attempted to resume his reading, the words before him fading in the
closeness of the room. "How's the shower?" he
asked, distractedly. "I don't know...I took a
bath, but the shower looks okay as far as I can tell. There's still
time if you want a quick one before Morgan gets here." Harm shifted uneasily in his
seat. Her terminology was a little too ambiguous for the moment, he
thought as he considered the possibilities. He DID need a shower...a cold
one. "I just might do that.
It might be a good idea for you to look over this file a second time while
I'm in there. The coroner's report on the shooting victims raises some
questions." "Really? I didn't
notice anything. I think I'll look around the hotel instead...sort of
orient myself. I'll meet you back here in about 30 minutes. Okay?"
Harm thought about Josh's
warning. No, it wasn't "okay"! "On second thought...I guess
I'll wait. When you're dressed, I need you to translate a few words for
me from this report." "Sure...just give me a
minute." she replied, the scent of her perfume making him all the more
uncomfortable. A few moments later she was
finished, and, drawing a chair beside his, she reached into his lap for the
coroner's file. Harm jumped. "Easy...easy." she
joked. "The enemy is out there, remember. I'm one of the
good guys." He cleared his throat.
"Right. I knew that. I was daydreaming...you startled me,
that's all. Here..." he said, taking the folder from her
hands. "Let me show you where I need translating." Quickly, he scanned down the
itemized listing until he came to the description of the victim's stomach
contents. "What's this 'prepecenica' stuff here?" Mac looked at the vaguely
familiar word. That was odd...'prepecenica' was a variety of local
brandy...one that was a particular favorite in the Serb community. Why
would an Albanian living outside of the Serb community during this time of
strife, have been drinking something so ethnically Serbian?" "It's a Serb drink, Harm.
I think it's strange that an Albanian would even consider drinking something
so completely Serb in nature, given the ethnic friction in the area.
Not unheard of...just odd." ................................................................................................
1300 HOURS "What do you mean he's
vanished?" Josh Clemens was ballistic. Corporal Morgan has been on duty
in the Serbian sector of Mitrovica, and had failed to return to his unit at the
specified time. "Who's the damned moron who
turned him out alone anyway? That's in direct violation of combat
procedure...any PFC knows that. So where is he?" "We don't know, Sir.
One minute the corporal was heading down an alley to...um...you know."
he began, noting Mac's presence. "...relieve his
bladder?" Mac offered. "Yes Ma'am, to relieve his
bladder. He just never came back. His squad searched everywhere
for him...they've been pounding on doors for two hours now. He just
vanished, Sirs...Ma'am." Josh Clemens paced angrily behind
the large table which served as his command desk.. "Have his squad keep
looking, Lieutenant. Bring in another squad if you need to...I want
Morgan found. I'll be expecting hourly reports...is that clear?" "Yes Sir!" the
lieutenant saluted, then took a hasty retreat. "Well, it looks like your
investigation is on hold for the time being. You'll just have to dig in
until we find Morgan." Clemens stated, hoping Mac would take the hint. "Josh...we need to get up to
the front... question people who might have been around when the incident
occurred. Can you arrange for transportation?" The lanky colonel sighed in
defeat. He'd been afraid of this. "Listen...the two of you
can't have eaten lately. Why don't you grab a bite with me and we'll
give it a little time? What difference can an hour make...maybe they'll
have found Morgan by then and you won't have to head up to Mitrovica after
all" "Josh..." Mac warned,
"we'll still have to check out the site of the shooting. We need
to take depositions. I'm going to do my job...I have to...you above all
people should know that." Clemens was silent. She was
right. There was no way around it...or her. "All right, but eat
first." he said, sounding like someone's frustrated mother.
"The next chow line may be a long way
off."
................................. As always, Josh Clemens was good
company. Over MREs (Meals Ready to Eat) of spaghetti and some kind of
innocuous juice mixture, the trio swapped tales for the better part of an
hour. "So, Mac...how's my old
buddy doing these days? I hear John's left the service for civilian
life." "He has. After his
article 32 hearing on the Haiti incident, he was assigned to head the maintenance
department at Quantico. It didn't suit him." "I wouldn't think so!"
Josh emphasized. "I can't say as I blame him. I knew about
that though...and about the murder trial the next year." Josh
glanced uneasily at Mac, the issue of her husband's death remaining an
unanswered question on his lips. "But how's John doing? I
keep in touch, but I haven't actually SEEN the man since Bosnia." "I saw him about two weeks
ago...for lunch...he was looking better than he has in a while. It was
rough for a bit, after he left the service and all. But he's getting on with
his life again. John's a survivor." "That he is." her
former C.O. replied. "Are you two still...?" "No." Mac
interjected. "Too much time...too many deployments. It's
been over for a while now." She looked uncomfortably over at
Harm... his eyes gauging her reaction to the question. "Listen, we really have to
go." she said, shifting the subject. "Curfew is in three
hours and forty-seven minutes. Time's flying. Do you have a ride
for us?" "Sure. My aide will
drive you up there. He can answer any questions you might have along
the way. Will that do?" "Thanks Josh. We'll
let you know if we turn up anything." Harm added. "You do that,
Commander." Clemens replied, directing his look pointedly at the
tall Naval officer. "You be careful up there, alright?" Harm got the message.
"Will do, Josh. You can count on it." ................................................................................................
0200 Hours Mac lay in bed listening to the
deep, even rumble of his breathing on the couch nearby. They hadn't made any headway on
the case that afternoon, and she was disturbed by their lack of
progress. Silently, she lay in the big four-poster, listening to the
poignant strains of some local ballad floating through the night air.
It was amazing how life could assert itself even in times of war, she
reflected, crossing over to the window. The full moon cast long shadows
over the war-torn streets as Sarah followed the sound of the tune far out
into the darkness of the Kosavar night. Where would Corporal Morgan be
now? Was he frightened? Was he alive? "Sarah?" He'd been watching her, taking in
the graceful line of her body in the pale moonlight. "Why didn't you tell me
about John Farrow? I thought it ended between you two in Okinawa."
"I never said that,
Harm...and you didn't ask. That's not something we really talk about,
is it...at least not seriously." "I guess not." he
agreed, crossing the room to stand behind her. "But maybe we
should." Mac was silent...giving Harm room
to grow. Quietly, he traced the bare line
of her shoulder with his fingertip, the fine spaghetti strap of her silken
nightgown shimmering in the moonlight. "Do you still love
him?" "I still care for him...that
will never change...but no, I don't love him. We've just drifted too far
apart for there to be anything serious left between us." "And what about us?"
Harm prodded gently. "Is it too late for us too?" he asked,
his breath warm in the dark mist of her hair. Mac hesitated...was he finally
asking the question she'd longed to hear all of these years? "No." she replied, her
voice lost in the delicate strains of the music below. "Only if we
let it be..." Wordlessly, she leaned back
against him, his arousal pressing into the small of her back as his arms
encircling her waist. She felt his lips trailing small, moist kisses
beneath her ear lobe...down the length of her neck...into the hollows of her
throat. She gasped as he began to stroke
the satiny covering of her breasts...tentatively at first, then more
assertively as hunger overcame him. "Harm? she began,
turning in his arms, her body pressed tightly against his barely clad
form. "Are you sure this is what you want?" Tenderly she looked into his
eyes, searching for any dim sign of indecision...hoping against hope that
this was more than a visceral reaction to an intimate scenario. "I'm sure." he
whispered, his hands cupping her buttocks, drawing her against the firm
planes of his body. "Very sure...are you?" Sarah pressed her lips to his,
her answer coded in her response, her hands exploring the smooth contours of
his back above his boxers as she lost herself in his embrace. Silently, they made their way
toward the welcoming haven of the four-poster, his palm caressing the gentle
flow of her hip as she drifted beside him. Then, raising the satiny garment
over her head, he took in the beauty that hid beneath... the soft roundness
of her perfect body... the small, hard peaks of her cinnamon nipples. Gently, he lay her down upon the
large, old bed, and removed his lone piece of clothing. He was
magnificent, she thought, her body responding to the moment...to him. Slowly he stretched out beside
her, his knee finding its way between her thighs, his lips upon hers,
deepening his kiss...stealing her breath away. "Oh Harm..." she
breathed, feeling the moisture build deep within her as he lowered his head
to her breast, drawing her pebbled nipple deep into the hot recesses of his
mouth. Tenderly, his fingers traveled
across the downy plains of her abdomen seeking...finding the moist core of
her womanhood...caressing the delicate bud of her passion. "Oh Sarah..." he rasped,
his need upon him, urgency resounding in his voice. "I want
you so much...but I want this to last..." Sarah arched her throat, feeling
her body respond to his intimate embrace, the gentle probing of his
fingers...the soft seduction of his voice. And then, as though suddenly
possessed by some primordial demon, she was overcome by the pounding of her
heart... a pulsating rush within her... the breathless vacuum of the room. "Please Harm...now. I
need you!" Gratefully, Harm slipped between
her thighs, his engorged shaft throbbing with demands he could no longer
control. "Sarah..." he sighed,
her name a hush in the stillness of the room as he entered her... filling
her...driving her beyond the boundaries of time and space.
"Sarah..." Powerfully he plunged, over and
over again, each thrust bringing her closer once more to the peaks of
ecstasy, and the gentle slide into oblivion. Once again she cried out his name
as she felt the hot, molten flames of his release consume her, carrying her
with him on an upward spiral into the sun, an intimate flight from which
there was no return. And then it was over. Harm lay between her thighs, his
sated member nestling softly within her, his breath coming in jagged gasps. "I don't want to let you
go." he whispered unevenly, his hand caressing the delicate line of her
face. "I want to stay inside of you for the rest of my
life...forever. I love you, Sarah...I love you." Finally, as though relinquishing
a dream, he slid to the side, his strong arms drawing her against him, his
hands stroking the softness of her body... reassuring himself that she was
truly there...truly his. Sarah lay staring into the
moonlit shadows of the room until his breathing slowed and she heard the
rhythmic cadence of sleep overcome him. Silently, she gazed at the form
of her friend...her lover. Why hadn't they made this
commitment years ago, before Chris...before Dalton...even before John?
How different her life would have been. Why didn't God issue a training
manual, so you could get it right the first time around instead of working
painfully through your mistakes? Then again, she thought, maybe
the Buddhists are right...maybe life IS the training manual...just one more
chapter leading to a higher goal...each painful lesson one more piece in the
puzzle of eternity. Tenderly, she caressed his still
form with her eyes. She knew she had to do it right this time...she
knew they were meant to be. If there was indeed karma in this life,
then he was a part of hers, and she of his...a union made on another plane of
existence...a priceless gift from the gods. ................................................................................................
0500 HOURS "You were right" Harm sat before Josh Clemens,
half dressed...his face lined with concern...with worry for Sarah's safety. "She shouldn't be
here. I want her back in Washington...back on 'home turf', where she
knows the ropes...where she's safe. "Commander...Harm...I
couldn't agree with you more, but I don't know what you expect me to do about
it. You two must have a C.O. someplace. Shouldn't you be talking
to him about this?" "Yeah. Admiral
Chegwidden, the Naval JAG in Washington. He'd probably recall her if I
contacted him, but it would hurt her career. There are just too many
places in the world that aren't safe for a woman. If he set a precedent
on this one...where would it end?" Clemens surveyed the younger man
sitting before him. It was clear that he had it bad. Maybe
pairing them up in a room together hadn't been such a good idea after all "I can assign a Marine guard
to accompany her when she's away from headquarters, if you think that would
help. Other than that, I'm at a loss. She's not in my
command anymore, Harm. My hands are tied. I wish I could be more
help...I really do." ............................. Sarah woke with a start, her hand
resting on the cold surface of the sheet where his body had lain. Where was he? Silently, she
listened for the sound of the shower, but heard nothing. Her eyes
scanned the room, but they too only served to confirm her fears. He was gone. Last night, the most intimate of
her life, had meant nothing to him. He hadn't even been able to wait for
her to wake up before making his escape! What is it about me, she
wondered. Why do I keep setting myself up like this? Why is it so
hard for me to stop expecting every frog I kiss to turn into a prince? But Harm was different...or at
least she had thought he was. Again she glanced around at the
empty room. The evidence indicated otherwise. Sure, Harm had
enjoyed last night...so had she...but that was hours ago. Last night's
passion had faded with the bright light of morning... with the pragmatic
realities of life. It had been sex for him...nothing more. She'd
just have to live with it. By the time Harm returned from
the lobby, Mac had showered and dressed, and was going over her notes for the
day. "You're up early." He
commented, noting the change in her demeanor. "I brought us some
breakfast...G.I. issue, but it's better than nothing." Mac stared at the cereal packets
and water pitcher filled with reconstituted milk. "I'm not hungry,
Harm. I just want to get busy and get something accomplished
today." Harm sat the tray on the neatly
made bed. All traces of the night before seemed to have vanished... as
though they had never existed at all. "Give me a few minutes to
finish getting ready," he said, grabbing his shirt from the back of a chair
and heading for the bathroom. "I'll be right with you." "Don't be long," she
responded impersonally. "I want to be up in Mitronica before
curfew lifts. I'll meet you downstairs." "Sar...Mac? Wait
up. After having Morgan vanish yesterday, Clemens has assigned a Marine
guard to tag along with us today. One of them is outside the
door. Keep him close, all right?" "Harm...you're being
ridiculous. I'm in the middle of Marine Headquarters. I couldn't
possibly need a guard here. Just get dressed...I'm going down to talk
to Josh before we go." "Mac...I'm serious.
Don't just 'blow' this off." The man has a job to do...let him do
it." "Oh...all right!" she
said sullenly. Anything to get me out of this room, she thought. Puzzled, Harm watched the door
close behind her. This was not the scenario he had planned for this
morning he reflected, staring at the abandoned four-poster. What could
have gone so wrong in just the past few hours? ................................................................................................
0630 HOURS She'd barely spoken a word in the
past hour. She wasn't angry...he could
always tell when her anger had gotten the best of her. This time it was
as though, like Mitronica, she had somehow erected partitions within her,
barriers to keep him from intruding into her life...from touching her. He wanted to talk...needed to
talk, but their Marine guards were ever present, and a conversation of that
nature would have been awkward at best. Maybe tonight they'd work out their
difficulties in the big four-poster, he smiled, the thought causing his
temperature to rise. Mac had brought a recent photo of
the missing corporal, and the two of them began questioning people in the immediate
vicinity of the shooting to see if anyone had any information concerning
either the incident, or Morgan's subsequent disappearance. The Admiral's warning had been
right on target. "Uncle Sam's" finest were indeed held in low
regard in the Serb-dominated northern sector. The answer of the day
seemed to be "Ne razumem." (I don't understand.), even from those
who had previously been heard speaking in English. Sarah's minor facility with
Serbian was totally wasted...no one was willing to talk. The morning
had been a total loss. They'd found out absolutely nothing about the
shooting... and Morgan was still missing. Hours went by. The freezing
winds of February were taking their toll. Sarah's nose was a cherry
red, and her fingers had begun to lose all feeling. "Maybe we can stop for
something hot to drink." Harm suggested. "I wouldn't do that,
Sir." their guard warned. "That's one reason an MEU carries
all its own grub. We could train forever, and then have some little old
Granny take out a whole platoon with a pot of soup and a box of rat
poison. It's a good idea to wait." Harm nodded. It was a
chilling thought...something he hadn't had to worry about at 15,000 feet up. They continued on, until finally
the "call of nature" brought a halt to the expedition.
Stopping at a local tavern, Mac asked "Gde je toalet?" (Where is
the bathroom?). The proprietor was reluctant to
cooperate even with this humanitarian request, but the sight of the two armed
Marines keeping watch at the door gave him reason to reconsider. Harm's "pit stop" took
only a few minutes, but Mac, of necessity, needed a little longer.
Finally, ten minutes later, Harm became worried and returned to the door with
the skirted figure emblazoned on the front. "Mac? Are you
okay?" No answer. "Mac...answer me, or I'm
coming in..." Still no answer. Harm tried the knob...it wasn't
locked. Pushing the door cautiously before him, he called once
more. "Mac... are you in here?" Frantically, he searched the
stalls, but to no avail. They were empty. The tacky green tile of the
dingy bathroom told no tales. Mac was gone. Harm rushed out to the street and
sent the Marine detachment around the building, hoping against hope that they
were not too late, but the Marines came back empty handed. There was no
sign of the missing colonel.
................................. An Hour Later The call to Admiral Chegwidden
was difficult, but not half as difficult as the panic he dealt with every
time he thought of what might be happening to Sarah...his Sarah. "She's WHAT!" the
Admiral yelled, the receiver reverberating in Harm's hand.
"You were supposed to be watching each other's backs...how could this
happen, Commander?" "I don't know, Sir."
Harm responded, his voice strained and lifeless. "She went to the
restroom...it's the last we saw of her." "Sir...this is all my
fault. I was warned that Mac shouldn't be here, and I let it go.
I should have talked to you sooner and had her recalled...but I didn't.
This didn't have to happen, Sir. I take full responsibility...this is
my fault. I just hope my lack of judgement doesn't cost Mac her
life." The Admiral picked up on Harm's tone,
the guilt and self-recrimination evident with each syllable. "Go easy on yourself,
Commander. I'd say that damned war had a little something to do with it
as well. We're gonna get her back, Son. Just don't give up."
"I'm going to be on the next
flight out of Pax River." the Admiral continued. "In the meantime,
I want those Marines to be kicking down some doors, or whatever else they can
do. I know you're not going to get any rest until the colonel's safe,
so at least get yourself some chow before you head back out there,
Commander. That's an order. Now let me talk to Colonel
Clemens." Woodenly, Harm handed the
receiver to Clemens, then, shoving a handful of crackers from a nearby
counter in his pocket, he headed back out the
door.
................................ Mac had just finished up in
the restroom when she heard a whisper from the next stall. "Moilm
te...prijateljica...prijateljica" "You're a friend?
Prijateljica?" Mac repeated. "Da...a friend." "Govorite li engliski?"
(Do you speak English?)" Mac asked, her Serbian sorely strained. "Da, Marine lady...a
little. You come with me. I take you to Stan. Ne
daleko...not far I think." "Just let me get the rest of
my team first." Mac hesitated. Quickly, a young Serbian woman
stepped out into the open, her eyes wide with panic. "Ne...ne. You bring
soldiers?" Frightened, the woman turned and
began to hurry toward the door...escape the only thing now on her mind. "Ne...molim
te...please. Don't go. I need to talk to Corporal
Morgan...Stan. Can you take me to him?" The woman, barely more than a
child, halted in the doorway. Her face bore the strain of
indecision. Finally, in desperation, she took Mac's hand. "You come, Lady. No
soldiers...you come." Mac knew it was a foolish
decision, but it seemed the only choice she had. Quickly the two slipped out of
the back door of the tavern, entering a back alley littered with boxes and
dumpsters. The girl had just turned and headed northward down the narrow
street when Mac felt a hand across her mouth, and smelled the tell-tale scent
of ether. Instinctively she lashed out with her elbow, connecting
solidly with someone or something behind her. Then the alleyway
began to spin around her, the pale sun growing dim...and then
darkness.
0100 HOURS There was to be no rest in
Motrovica that night. All around the Serbian sector of town, Marines
were searching door to door, turning suspicious households upside down,
waylaying people who dared to break the curfew...but to no avail. The
only sign of Mac's abduction was an oily rag soaked in ether found behind the
tavern...of Mac herself there was nothing. Harm was frantic...any claim to
reasonable thought lost in blind panic and overwhelming guilt. He was a
loose cannon, and heaven help the man who got in his way. As was expected, Harm had
returned to Pristina just long enough to meet the Admiral's plane...his return
ride back to Mitrovica already waiting on the tarmac. "Commander...you look like
hell." Chegwidden said, his eyes assessing the combination of pain and
exhaustion he found etched in the younger JAG officer's face. "You
need to get some rest" Harm's look spoke
otherwise. There would be time for rest after Sarah was found...not
before. Until then, the peace found in repose was not for him. "Sir, I need to get back to
Mitrovica. This is Colonel Clemens. He'll escort you back to
Marine Headquarters and fill you in, but, with your permission, Sir...I need
to get back up there." "Commander, if you're under
the impression that I'm going to sit in Pristina and sip tea until Mac is
recovered, then you're sorely mistaken. You can 'fill me in'
yourself. I'm riding with you." Admiral," Colonel Clemens
interjected, " You're going to need a change of uniform if you're going
into Mitrovica tonight, Sir. It isn't often we have a 'two-star'
wandering through a war zone...it wouldn't be safe." "Point well taken,
Colonel. Let's see what we can do about
that."
................................ Forty minutes later the car
pulled alongside the Ibar River Bridge. The Admiral, now more
appropriately dressed, looked decidedly out of step in the garb of a Marine
colonel. If the situation hadn't been so completely dire, it would have
been comical. "Take me to the area where
Colonel MacKenzie was last seen." he ordered. "Let's get our
bearings from there." "Aye aye, Sir," Harm
responded, hating to return to "square one", even for the
Admiral. "Driver...take us to the tavern again." ................................................................................................
0100 HOURS "Colonel?...Colonel?"
"I think she's coming
around, Nadja!", the young corporal exclaimed optimistically. "Ma'am...can you hear
me? Are you okay?" Slowly, the room began to swim
into focus...furniture and faces beginning to take on definition...recognizable
shapes. "Corporal?" Mac
replied, her voice detached and distant. "Corporal...Corporal
Morgan? Are you all right?" she said, her consciousness gaining
ground... her mission foremost in her mind. "Yes Ma'am. But I'm
real sorry about this, Ma'am. I never meant for none of this to
happen. You have to believe me Ma'am..." Briefly, Mac scanned the dark,
windowless room, possibly a cellar of some type. Its only inhabitants
were the three of them, and a small rodent of some type, scurrying in the
gloom. "Corporal...this is the
woman who kidnapped me...drugged me. What's going on here?" "No Ma'am. She didn't
do neither." he said, rushing to the young woman's defense.
"It was her brothers and their friends. I'm the one who sent her to
get you...she didn't know nothing about them following her. I swear it,
Ma'am." "Corporal," she said,
her voice still finding strength. "Maybe you'd better tell me what
this is all about." Morgan began slowly, the lack of
seasoning evident on the eighteen-year-old's face as he began to formulate an
answer. "Ma'am, I was part of the
29th MEU that was dropped in on Tuesday, you know, after the riot?" "I know, corporal, go
on," she prodded. "Well, I was on patrol north
of the bridge, when I heard this woman screamin' inside of some
building. So, I got my M-16 ready and broke in." He paused, as
though remembering an event long ago and far away. "And?" "And it was Nadja,
Ma'am," he replied, the look of first love shining in his eyes as he
glanced caringly at the young woman sitting by his side. "They
were KLA, you know... the Albanians, and they were trying to...to...rape her,
Ma'am." "I know...I
understand...keep going." "Well, Ma'am, When they saw
me aim my rifle, they took off in a hurry. Nadja was real
upset...crying and all, so I sat with her a while, and we got to talking
since she knows a little English and everything." Mac nodded silently, encouraging
the young man to continue his story. "Ma'am. I don't want
you to get this wrong or nothing. Nadja's a good girl...the sweetest
person I've ever..." "Go on, Corporal...it's
okay." "It's just that everything
was so crazy, you know, going to hell and all...and we were so close...we,
um, you know?" "I get the idea,
Corporal. So how did you end up here?" "Well Ma'am. I took
Nadja home afterwards, and as I started to head back toward the south side of
the bridge I saw those same Albanians again. They were in this car, and
they were armed with AK-47s this time. They started shootin' at me, Ma'am!
I had to shoot back! They were trying to kill me! Look at this...they
shot a hole right through my pack." he said, showing Mac his Marine
backpack. "Go on, Corporal. I
still want to know how you ended up here." "Well, Ma'am, after the
shooting, things just got worse. All these reporters around here, they
were making up all kinds of stories about me being a murderer and all, and
then I heard they were sending a lawyer from JAG to prosecute me...I got
worried." "You see, Ma'am., if there
was a trial, then the Serbs would find out about Nadja and me. They'd
kill her, Ma'am. I couldn't let that happen... so I ran. "...right to Nadja's
house." Mac concluded. "Yes, Ma'am. There
wasn't anywhere else to go. I been trying to get word to my unit for
days, but times being what they are, it wasn't easy. Nadja was afraid
to get near any of the soldiers, and she was the only one willing to carry a
message...so when she heard that there was a lady Marine looking for me, she
decided it might be our last chance." "So why was I kidnapped and
knocked unconscious? Why didn't she just lead me here?" "That wasn't Nadja's doing,
Ma'am. Her brothers followed her. They were afraid of you knowing
where they lived. They thought you might lead the rest of the unit back
here and shoot everyone to pieces. They were scared, Ma'am...just like
me." Mac looked sadly at the young
couple. War had brought them together, and it would be the horrors of
war that would inevitably tear them apart. "Ma'am? What's going
to happen now. I know I got to go back and take my medicine...but I
still can't leave Nadja here. I love her, Ma'am, but even if I didn't,
I can't just leave her here to be butchered. Once this hits the
newspapers and the Serbs find out that we were...you know...she's as good as
dead. I can't go back unless I know she's safe." "You say you love her,
Corporal. Just how much of a commitment are we talking about
here?" Mac responded, the obvious solution in mind. "I'd marry her this minute,
if I could get an okay from my C.O.," Ma'am. "Corporal...your C.O. and I
are old friends...maybe we can work something out..." ................................................................................................
0200 HOURS The tavern was dark when the
Marines arrived. The lock on the door, broken long ago, hung limply in
the pale moonlight, like a fallen soldier. Impatiently, Admiral Chegwidden
pushed past his guard contingency and entered the building, an M-16 held in
readiness before him. "Give me the tour,
Commander. I need to get this straight in my head before we
proceed." he ordered, addressing his JAG subordinate. "The restrooms are back
here, Sir." Harm said, leading the Admiral toward the back of the
building. "This is where I last saw her." The Admiral scanned the scene,
his eyes searching for something... anything that might have been overlooked,
but to no avail. The restroom, dingy though it was, appeared
"clean" of any evidence that might be of help. "You said that she was
probably taken out back into an alleyway?" "Yes Sir. This way,
Sir." Harm turned and led the way past the restrooms and out into
the narrow street behind the tavern. That was when all hell broke loose.
Five people were waiting in the
shadows cast by the graveyard of boxes. In a flash, two of them
attacked Harm and the Admiral, knocking them to the cobblestoned street, then
fleeing into the darkness. Both Harm and the Admiral shouted
a warning, then took aim above the heads of the fleeing pair. "Ne!...NE!" a soft
voice called from the stillness behind them. "Molim
te...please...do not shoot them." Harm turned, his sidearm held in
readiness. The voice had come from a young local woman, and beside her
stood Stan Morgan...and Mac. "Sarah..." Harm
whispered, as though the gods had answered a fervent prayer..."Sarah,
are you all right?" he asked, searching for signs of abuse. Slowly, as though afraid that she
might once again vanish beneath the Kosovar moon, Harm drew her within his
embrace, pressing her close to his heart, burying his face in the warmth of
her hair. "You scared me." he
rasped, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I...I..." Silently he lowered his head and
pressed his lips to hers...an affirmation of life in a city where life was a
precious commodity...his eyes moist and luminous in the pale glow of the
moon. "Ahem," the Admiral
cleared his throat. "Colonel...would you like to tell us what the
bloody hell's going on here?" Mac surveyed the Admiral in his
"Marine greens", a puzzled grin on her face. "Admiral...this is a new
look for you, isn't it Sir?" "A measure of expediency,
Colonel, now can you shed some light on all of this?" "Yes Sir. This is
Corporal Morgan..." "...the missing
Marine," AJ supplied, "...and this is his fiancée,
Nadja." "His fiancée?" Harm
echoed. "When did this happen?" "About an hour ago,
Commander. Some men make up their minds rather quickly..." "All right, people.
It's 0200, I suggest we make our way back to the safety of Pristina and sort
it all out there." the Admiral ordered. "Aye aye, Sir." the
group replied, saluting as the Admiral turned and reentered the building. "And Colonel...you're with
me." he added. "This time I plan on keeping a close eye on
you." ................................................................................................
0300 HOURS "And that's how it happened,
Sir." Mac reiterated, her tale having been repeated numerous times
in the past hour. ""I see."
Chegwidden replied. "And exactly where do we stand as far as our
young Serbian friend here?" This time it was Morgan who
answered. "With the Colonel's
permission, Sir, Nadja and I want to be married. I'd like her to
be sent back to the States until I can join her." he said, his eyes
darting anxiously between the Colonel Clemens and the Admiral.
"There's nothing for her here, Sir. If I leave her to the
Albanians or the Serbs...she'll be killed." Sir...I love her." he said,
his voice pleading for their understanding. "Can't something be
done?" AJ sat silently, assessing the
depth of emotion passing between the young couple. They were so young,
he thought. Did they really know what they were getting into? Then again, maybe they would be
the only good thing to come out of this ungodly war. The many missed
opportunities in his own life passed rapidly through his mind. All they
were asking for was a chance...who was he to deny them that? "Colonel...is your unit
chaplain available?" he asked. "If we're going to take this
young woman back to Washington with us tomorrow, then I guess we'd better
make it legal." Mac turned to translate for
Nadja, but the tears in the young Serbian woman's eyes told her it was
unnecessary. "Huala" she smiled,
holding the corporal's hand in hers, "Thank you...thank you." The wedding was a quick one...a
temporary measure until Morgan could be transferred back to the States to
face charges for unauthorized absence, but soon it was over and the
participants began to head off upstairs for a much needed rest.
............................... Thoughts of the young wedding
couple filled her mind as Sarah turned on the bedroom light. How
strange it was that a boy so young, barely a man, could make such a total
commitment, when others twice his age found it impossible. Ever the professional, Harm had
opted to stay below and brief the Admiral on the day's events from his
perspective. Nothing had changed. Reticently, Sarah changed her
clothing and climbed into the big four-poster, wishing that fate had dealt
her another hand. Loving a man like Harmon Rabb wasn't easy, she
realized as she turned out the light. It never would be. It was another thirty minutes
before she heard Harm's key in the lock. She couldn't deal with this now,
she thought...not on top of everything else. And so, silently, she
closed her eyes and feigned the semblance of sleep...a barrier against the
flood of emotion she could no longer control. Uncertainly, Harm placed his
uniform on the back of a chair, and, clad only in his boxers, climbed into
bed behind the 'sleeping' dark-haired woman. She must be exhausted, he
thought, resting on his elbow, his eyes confirming what his mind already
knew. She was here...she was safe...they were together again. Briefly, his fingers traced the
dark line of her hair on the pillow beside him. Nothing had been the
same since he'd come back with breakfast this morning. What was
wrong? How could their night of ecstasy have vanished on the
wind...gone without a trace? Gently, he pressed his body
against hers, his arm encircling her waist...keeping her near...keeping her
safe. Finally, she could stand it no
longer. "Harm?" she
whispered. Why did you leave this morning?" she questioned.
"I need to know." "I got us some
breakfast...you saw." he evaded. "Not for that length of
time, Harm. There was something more...I know there was. Was it
so hard to wake up next to me? I have to know the truth." "Is that what you
think? Is that what this is all about?"' he answered, turning her
towards him. "Sarah..." he began,
words failing him, "you think that last night was just...how could
you think that?" "Then why did you leave,
Harm. Please...respect me enough to tell me the truth." Harm knew he was a doomed man
either way. Better to lose her over the truth, he decided, then to part
over a misunderstanding. "Josh told me last night that
a lot of women have been kidnapped in the area since the war began. He
said that you shouldn't be here...and after last night I agreed with
him." "Sarah...I was downstairs
talking with Josh this morning, trying to figure out a way to get you sent back
to Washington." There...he'd said it! Harm
rolled onto his back and waited for the explosion to build. "To Washington!" she
fairly shouted. "Harm, look at me...I said LOOK AT ME!
I know where Josh is coming from. This is an old tune with him...one
that sorely needs reworking. But YOU need to know that I'm not some little
princess who needs to be sheltered from the world. I couldn't live like
that." Silently, she stared at the wall
until her anger resided. "Did you mean it when you said you loved
me, Harm?" "Of course I did...I still
do. How can you even ask that?" "Then THIS is the person you
fell in love with...why would you want to turn around and change me?" "Sarah, if you thought I was
in danger, what lengths would you be willing to go through to protect
me?" Sarah turned her head, her eyes
filling with tears. "Anything... anything." "Then how can you NOT
understand when I feel the same way?" They'd come full circle. It
was a stalemate. "Sarah...I can't promise you
that I'll change. I love you...the thought of not wanting to stand
between you and the ugliness in the world is just about impossible. But
if it's what you want...I'll try." Sarah considered his words, the
sincerity in his eyes filling her mind...her heart, and she realized that if
their love were to last, then it had to be a two-way street. "Don't try too hard, my
love...don't try too hard." she whispered. Wordlessly, Harm brushed the
tears from her eyes and gathered her close. "We've got a long way
to go, Sarah, but if those two kids can do it, so can we." Then gently, tenderly he placed
his lips against hers, tasting the saltiness of her tears... the velvet
softness of her tongue. Born of an instinct as old as
man, Sarah felt her body begin to respond...to blossom beneath the evocative
touch of his hand stroking her breast...the curve of her hip beneath the thin
layer of silk and lace which bound her. "Harm..." she breathed,
as his hand reached the hem of her gown and slid beneath, caressing the pale
silkiness of her inner thigh. She wanted to touch him...to feel
the uneven pulse of his manhood throbbing in her hand...on her
tongue...buried within her body. "Take off your clothes"
she asked, her thoughts reckless and racing. "I want to feel you
against me without..." she flushed in the darkness. He understood. Silently he rose and stood before
her, thin ribbons of moonlight casting ethereal shadows across his still
form. Then he began to reach for the waistband of his shorts, lowering
them over his hips. "No...wait." she
responded wantonly. "Let me..." He hesitated, as though startled
by the request, then straightened once again. "Sarah?' "Shhhh." she
whispered. "This is what I want." she said, sliding to the
floor before him, lowering the white cotton barrier down the length of his
thighs and dropping it, forgotten upon the tattered rug. Harm tipped his head back, a
wordless moan escaping his lips as she placed the head of his burgeoning
erection in her mouth, her tongue curving around it, her lips drawing it
deeper and deeper into the warm moist vacuum within. "Sarah...Oh God, Sarah...I
want you so much..." he gasped, his hands shaking as he coaxed her to
her feet and pulled her tightly against him. "You make me crazy." he
said, his hands sliding down the length of her thighs, raising the hem of her
gown once again...watching it slide fluidly to the floor at their feet.
"You drive me too far...like I want to just..." "Then do it," she
pleaded, "let go...do it." Silently, she watched the play of
his features in the dim light of the ageless moon...the indecision...his war
against the primeval urges he was wont to suppress. "I...I can't." he
choked, "I won't." he averred, summoning his resolve. "Then maybe I'll have
to." she whispered huskily as she pushed him back against the bed, her
lips once again drawing him deep within her... coaxing... stirring...
demanding, feeling his fingers grasp convulsively at her naked shoulders. Finally, pushed beyond endurance,
he arched his hips and stood once more beside the bed, his face transformed
into a mask of ageless desire, the blue of his eyes lost in the smoldering
flames he could no longer control. Breathlessly, he drew her to her
feet and pressed her against the wall, his lips covering hers, his fingers
plunging between her thighs, sparking fires within the moist folds of her
inner core. And then, she was lost in a
mindless whirl of sensation as her climax washed over her, her cries of
passion spirited away in a response as old as time. Breathing raggedly, he thrust his
massive organ deep within her, her thighs wrapped tightly around his waist,
impaling her against the wall like a butterfly on a pin. "Harm!" she cried,
feeling the tension build once more inside of her, deep down in a place where
only he could reach..."Oh, Harm!" And then the world shattered into
a kaleidoscope of color and sound, swirling around her...within her...the
thrusting of is maleness, the moist heat of his lusty offering sending her
far beyond the reaches of sanity into a realm of pure sensation. Briefly he sagged against her,
his respiration ragged and out of control, a light sheen of sweat covering
the smooth contours of his muscles. And then, gently, almost
reverently, he carried her to the bed and tucked her beneath the faded
coverlet, his lips grazing the placid smoothness of her brow... the sated
smile which still played at the corners of her lips. Slowly he slid into bed beside
her, wrapping her in his embrace, burying his lips against her throat. "Sarah...did I hurt
you?" he asked, the self-recrimination growing in his voice.
"I never meant..." "Don't say it, my
love." she interrupted, her finger tracing the outline of his lower
lip. "I wanted the man behind the veneer...I wanted to feel you
inside of me without the conventions of protocol and social
contrivance...just you... only you." Silently, he placed a kiss upon
her trembling lips, her eyes soft and liquid in the moonlight, her face aglow
with a love that engulfed them both... bound them together as only two hearts
can join. "Sarah, when I thought you
were gone...that they'd taken you away from me...I've never felt such pain in
my life. I couldn't stop...couldn't think straight. I couldn't
imagine my life without you. I kept thinking how unfair it was that
we'd finally come into a time for ourselves, only to have it torn away by the
madness of this place." "I understand," she
whispered, "You don't have to tell..." "Yes I do. I want you
to know...I love you. I love you more than anyone I've ever
known...more than I could ever say...more than life. I can't imagine my
world without you. Be with me...stay with me...fill my life, and let me
fill yours." Silently she stroked the
roughened surface of his chin, bridging the physical gap between them,
uniting their souls, consecrating a promise that words could only sully. They lay gazing into each other's
eyes, touched and touching, until the full moon had set and the velvet
darkness of night caressed the stillness around them. As she lay by his side and
watched her love...her lover drift off into the gentle embrace of sleep, she
knew that he was the 'prince' she'd been waiting for all of her life.
She knew that they were bound together by an invisible thread so strong that
only death could part them, and that for however long they had on this
earth...they would be as one, complete and inseparable. Theirs was a love that only time
could rend asunder...a timeless vow...the promise of eternity. "Forever, my love," she
whispered as her eyelids began to close, and sleep wrapped stealthily around
her, "forever and forever..." THE END |