Mac sat on the bed and contemplated the notes she had scribbled onto the legal pad. Harm had turned incredibly stubborn about her going back to the JAG office after being released. Surprisingly, Tyler had sided with him. The only place he would take her was the VOQ. There she had another surprise in the form of a guard at her door, courtesy of Captain Perez.

Mac put the pad down and rearranged her pillows so she could lean against the wall. Much as she hated to admit it, Harm had been right. One of the first things she did after changing out of her uniform was to take a nap. It only lasted seventy-one minutes but for someone who slept very little, she was beginning to feel like all she did was sleep... and occupy hospital beds. Mac carefully felt the stitches in the back of her head. Whoever had shaved the area had been considerate enough to make sure the rest of her hair hid the wound. She couldn't decide if the near misses were because of dumb luck or if the people pursuing her were just inept.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Padding over, she opened it a crack. Harm was standing there holding a couple of pizza boxes. She opened the door all the way, "In. Now."

Harm walked in, grinning, "I think I'd be flattered if I weren't holding food."

Mac smiled sweetly at him, while grabbing the pizzas, "It's so nice to see you, Harm... Now get out of my way." She placed the boxes on the dresser and opened them up, inspecting their contents. Harm watched as Mac selected a thick slice of the meatlover's pizza and settled cross-legged on the bed. She was dressed in an old USMC t-shirt and running shorts. She had dispensed with the sling, although the brace was still in place. He could see some of the cuts on her legs from the first attack. They seemed to be healing.

Mac noticed his scrutiny, "Are you planning to eat or is there something in the pizza I should know about?"

"You mean besides the huge amounts of cholesterol?" Harm smiled, helping himself to the veggie pizza. He grabbed the desk chair and slid it next to the bed. "How're you feeling?"

"Well, I was hungry... and bored. But you've managed to solve both problems with one visit. How did it go this afternoon? Any leads on the Acme Assassination Gang?"

"Not much, except that you seem to be the target of choice and that they're very enthusiastic," Harm said with a slight smile for the description. "I don't think we should take them too lightly, they've come pretty close."

"I know, I know. It's just that I keep waiting for Wiley Coyote to land at my feet, closely followed by an anvil." Mac headed for a second slice of pizza. "Any more on Jarvis?"

Harm nodded, "Bell figured out how they were acquiring the supplies without anyone noticing. There's some sort of rider attached to the inventory script. Enter a quantity on a particular item and it changes the number downward by a certain percentage. They stayed away from items that would be flagged for random checks, like weapons and munitions. No one worries about copier paper. Then they cart off the 'surplus'. The beauty of this is that everyone along the chain thinks the figures they have are correct. He's checking into Finance next."

"And obviously, there's people in the warehouse who are part of this," Mac commented. "Any central figure to connect them all?"

"Not yet. Although I'm beginning to think it's someone relatively high up."

"Really? It doesn't seem like that big an operation. Granted, over time they've managed to acquire quite a bit, but like you said, copier paper? Why waste a computer program on such penny-ante stuff?" Mac asked, looking perplexed.

Harm thought it over, "Well, this is all that we know about. What if this was the prototype program? They went ahead and tested it with inconsequential things. Stuff they'd have a use for, but probably wouldn't get them into too much trouble if it were found out."

"So there could be a more sophisticated program out there, funneling weaponry, money and whatever off the base," Mac's eyes widened a little as she considered the possibilities. "Harm, if this is true, what's to stop them from moving to other bases and doing the same thing?"

"Not much," Harm said a little grimly, "The next question is, what are they doing with it?" He narrowed his gaze at Mac, she'd gotten paler? "Mac?"

She stared at him, "This is 'Archangel'." Her voice was practically a whisper.

"We don't know that for sure," Harm said soothingly. It was ironic that he would wind up taking this position. He'd been worried about that damn network (or whatever portion was left) since the first attempt on Mac. "And even if it is, it's probably some small fragment that's too stupid to know when to get out. There's no way they can carry out their main objective; not now, not with everyone on the lookout for suspicious activity."

Mac looked at him for a moment, then laughed a little self-consciously, "Well, I feel kind of stupid. I jumped from fact to theory to paranoia in one fell swoop. Next time I'll wait for proof before I panic."

"Mac... " Harm looked at her intently, he wanted her to understand he was serious. "Stupid and panic are two words I would never associate with you."

She felt herself flushing, as much from his intense gaze as from his words. Not for the first time, she wished he came with a secret decoder ring.

Harm lapsed into silence, thinking. He had wanted talk to Mac about whatever it was that was bothering her. He was beginning to get a clearer picture - he wasn't totally clueless. The problem was that he didn't like the picture. So, if he brought it up, there'd probably be an argument. And despite the flippancy that Mac had been treating this latest attempt with, he saw it for the defense that it was. She didn't need him adding to the load, however good his intentions.

Mac glanced at Harm, he appeared lost in thought. The silence didn't bother her, their relationship was at a point where these pauses didn't automatically become awkward. She hoped he wasn't trying to decide on the best approach to start their talk. She wasn't sure she quite ready for the fight it would inevitably cause. The one thing she had managed to do this afternoon was get in touch with Webb. That had surprised her almost as much as Webb had been surprised at what she had to say. Typically, he'd been cautiously receptive. He asked her to take a week to think it over and if she still was set, he'd start things rolling. That had led to a discussion of this latest assignment. His opinion of Crowley coincided with hers - the man was proof positive that it wasn't just the cream that rose to the top.

Clay had also been disturbed to hear of the attempts on her life. He wasn't ready to discount possible 'Archangel' involvement and told her he'd have someone look into it. When Mac had apologized for adding to the burden he was already carrying in his pursuit of the terrorists, Clay had actually laughed and said she could owe him a favor if it made her feel better. He'd told her he'd be in touch and then hung up.

Mac looked up from her musing to see Harm watching her. "What?" she said with a smile.

"I... uhh... nothing," Harm said, casting around desperately for something intelligent to say. He'd just been sitting there admiring the view. 'C'mon, Rabb, think!'

Mac's smile was growing wider. She unfolded and gracefully rose from the bed. Then she sauntered over and picked up another slice of pizza. Turning around, she leaned against the dresser and looked back at Harm, "Nothing?"

"Definitely not 'Nothing'," he answered in a low tone that sent a shiver all the way through her. Her smile faded just a little, with those three words he had pretty much turned the tables on her. Unconsciously, she straightened just a little and matched him look for look, "So tell me." Inside, one of the words Harm didn't associate with her was having a field day. Why had she started this? Whenever she pushed, Harm would teeter on the brink and then turn into Mr. Cryptic. The man had more defenses than the Chicago Bears.

'So tell me.' Those words echoed in Harm's head. God, where to start... He had surprised her and himself at the direction that he'd taken the conversation. What to tell her? 'Hey Mac, I'm tired of waiting. Let's do it right here, right now?' ... no wait, how about: 'So Mac, I know you're more rattled about these attempts than you're letting on. What say we complicate things by taking our relationship to the next level?' Harm groaned inwardly, 'Dammit, I am such an ass!'

"What?"

Harm froze, 'Oh god, did I say that out loud?' "Uhhh, Mac... ," he stammered.

"Never mind, Harm," Mac said. She gave him a tired smile, "Look, why don't we call it a day? Everything's starting to run together; we can start fresh in the morning. Thanks for bringing the pizza."

However she excused it, Mac was pretty much throwing him out the door. Reluctantly, Harm stood up and grabbed his cover, "Mac... "

She held up a hand, "It's fine, Harm. I'll see you in the morning." She ushered him out the door and then leaned against it. 'Way to go, MacKenzie. You've just proved that your learning curve rivals the Grand Canyon.' Going back to the bed, she settled down and picked up the legal pad. Maybe she could lose herself in this case for the next couple of hours.

Harm entered his quarters and tossed his cover onto the dresser. 'Goddammit, I must be seven kinds of an idiot!' What the hell had he been thinking? She was going to start thinking he was some kind of a pervert; that he was only attracted to her when she was in danger. He was attracted to her, period. Apparently though, his way of dealing with the stress of these attacks was to lose control of the restraint he kept on his feelings... and his mouth. He threw himself down on the bed and turned to stare at the ceiling. Damn, Damn, DAMN!

JAG Headquarters
Washington, D.C.
1930 Local

Admiral Chegwidden looked with annoyance at the blinking light on his phone. They had secured the office about an hour ago, he'd sent Tiner home. With three of his staff gone, things were beginning to pile up. Who knew Rabb and MacKenzie would stumble into another case while taking care of the first one. He snorted in exasperation, HE should have known. Put those two together and they attracted trouble like moths to a flame. He rubbed his face in frustration, Rabb had been keeping him apprised of the situation. He'd blundered in sending Harm out in the first place. If he'd been Mac, he would have been pissed, too. AJ glanced back at the phone... still blinking. Sighing, he picked it up, "Chegwidden."

"Doesn't anyone answer the phones over there, Admiral?"

AJ's eyebrows rose in surprise, "Webb? Where are you? Have you found the terrorists?"

"Yes. Pakistan. Getting close. That's not why I'm calling."

"Well, if you're looking for Rabb and MacKenzie, they're already on an out-of-town assignment." AJ couldn't help being leery of anything that involved his people with Webb.

"I know, AJ, that's why I'm calling. I've been talking to Mac." Webb braced himself, this next part wasn't going to be fun.

"You talked to Mac without talking to me first?"

Webb could hear the growing aggravation in Chegwidden's voice, "AJ, she contacted me." There was dead silence on the other end, he hurried on, "Look, I'm not quite sure what this is about, but Mac is under the impression that you think she's about to turn into some sort of basketcase and that you no longer trust her to handle even simple cases. I don't know what else is going on, but she's planning to talk to you and then resign from the Corps. She wanted to know if I could find a place for her at the Agency."

AJ was shocked, he hadn't thought Mac would put that interpretation on Rabb's arrival. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her, 'Hell No! Why would I want someone who was smart, tough, multi-lingual and quick on their feet?' ... C'mon AJ, what do you think I said?" Clay had always thought she would make a hell of an operative, but he also knew she was first and foremost a Marine.

"Son of a bitch." Chegwidden thumped a fist on his desk, making everything bounce. That he was the catalyst for this was especially galling. He had reacted to Singer's call on a personal level, sending Rabb out there. He knew how they supported each other. What he had failed to consider was the professional side; something Mac, obviously, had jumped on immediately.

"AJ?" Webb was grateful he was doing this over the phone. Even though he was blameless, being anywhere in the fire zone of an angry SEAL wasn't a bright move.

"What?"

"I told her to take a week to think it over. You've got some time on this, assuming they can stop whoever it is that's taking potshots at her." Webb grimaced to himself, he'd contacted some people to look into it but Mac was his friend, he wished he could do it himself.

"You think this is 'Archangel'?"

"I don't know, I've asked some people to look into it for me. Offhand, I can't think of anyone else who would be so zealous in going after her. It could be a simple case of revenge." Webb looked up when one of his people came into the room, "AJ, I've got to go. I'll get back to you."

AJ continued to stare at the phone after he hung up, "Son of a bitch!"

Mac and the others looked up when Harm entered the conference room, trailed by Tyler. He looked like he'd had as rough a night as she had. She'd only managed to sleep in bits and snatches, finally giving up around 4 a.m. Ordinarily, she would have gone for a run, something that was out of the question for the time being. Instead, she dived back into the case, chasing ideas and theories around on paper. Around 0600, she had cajoled the MP at her door into accompanying her to the JAG office. He'd stationed himself at the conference door until Perez and Bell had shown up at seven.

Proving the cliche about books and their covers, Bell turned out to be the morning person and Perez was the one not fit to talk to until he'd had his second cup of coffee. Singer arrived at 0705, looking surprised and chagrined that she hadn't been first to the office.

Mac gave Harm a smile and gestured with her thumb towards the coffeemaker. Perez had made the coffee - it was capable of waking the dead. She kept her expression bland at the look on Harm's face after the first sip. His eyes narrowed and he dropped into the chair next to her, "You could have warned me."

Mac regarded him innocently, "About what?"

"That someone managed to liquify solid rocket fuel." Harm took another careful sip and grimaced. "You know, this might have turned out better if water had actually been added to the coffeemaker."

"Wuss," Mac grinned. She turned her attention to the rest of the room. "Where are we right now with Jarvis?"

Perez put up a hand, "No luck with the motorpool logs, ma'am. Either all this stuff is still on base somewhere or they've found another way to transport it. I also checked the gate logs around the time of each 'acquisition', no unusual activity during the days or nights. I've assigned a couple of teams to start checking through the warehouses."

Mac nodded and looked at the others, "Anything else?"

Singer spoke up, "We've gone over Jarvis' service record," she indicated Ensign Tyler, "No one name is jumping out at us. Everything appears normal."

Mac drummed her fingers on the table, "Then I guess we keep looking. We know something's going on and I can't believe they're that good at covering their tracks." She acknowledged the nods around the table and watched for a moment as everyone dove back into the paperwork. Mac glanced at Harm and handed him a sheaf of papers from the ones in front of her. "Here, Tink's been running out copies of all sorts of requisitions and invoices. See if anything catches your eye."

The next several hours were spent reading and cross-checking a myriad of records. Harm leaned back and rubbed his eyes. Mac looked over and gave him a sympathetic smile before returning to her own stack of papers. He watched her for a second or two, she acted like everything was fine between them. At least she wasn't mad at him. He had half expected her to be; hell, he would've been if he'd been on the receiving end of his idiot behavior. Rubbing his neck, he leaned forward again and went back to reading.

A short time later, Mac looked over when she heard Harm grunt thoughtfully, "Found something?"

"Maybe," he replied, sorting rapidly through the papers. He pulled out another sheet and compared it to the one in front. By now, the others were watching him as well. Harm looked over at Perez, "Do you still have the motorpool logs?" The captain slid a folder across. He quickly scanned the pages, comparing it to the two papers in front of him and then smiled.

"Well?" Mac asked, voicing what everyone else was thinking.

"Fuel consumption. It goes up every two or three weeks but there's no increase in the odometer readings."

"They're falsifying the odometer records, sir?" Singer asked.

"They'd have to turn back the odometers each time, otherwise someone would notice the discrepancy. If they did it that often, someone should have caught it." Perez said.

"What if they've acquired their own trucks?" Harm saw Mac's eyes widen as she made the same jump he had. He waited while the others sorted it through.

"But how could they get the trucks on base, sir? Since 9/11, security's been really tight. Wouldn't somebody notice that they didn't belong?" Tyler said, looking at Perez for confirmation.

"Not if the trucks have been here all along," Mac replied. Harm gave a confirming nod.

"They stole transport trucks from the base and hid them in the motorpool? Is everyone over there blind?" Singer asked in disbelief.

"Who's in charge over there?" Harm asked.

"Master Chief Wilkins, sir." Perez answered promptly.

"We'll assume he's in on this," Mac said. "I think we need to visit the motorpool and take a look around."

She looked around in surprise at the dead silence that greeted her statement. Exasperated, she said, "Not me." She glared at Harm and Perez, "Not you two either." She cut off Harm's protest, "I'd rather not spook anyone with senior officers. I was thinking about Corporal Bell and Ensign Tyler." She looked over at them, "You two up for some recon?"

Tyler, still looking surprised, nodded enthusiastically. Bell merely smiled, the effect was chilling.

"Good," Mac said, "Now we need some innocuous reason for a JAG officer to visit the motorpool."

They hashed through a number of scenarios until they decided on an overzealous environmental group complaining about truck exhaust. Finally, Mac leaned back and said, "That should do it." She paused and looked around at the others, "Okay, it's 1122. Why don't we break for lunch and then you two," indicating Tyler and Bell, "can head over to the motorpool. The rest of us will meet back here at 1230."

She stood up, everyone else rising as well, and watched as they filed out of the room. Bell and Tyler already had their heads together, formulating their plans. They were quite a pair, Bell made the ensign look like he was ten years old. Mac looked over at Harm, "Buy you lunch, Sailor?"

"Sure," Harm smiled. He held the door for her and then waited while she locked it. Together, they walked out of the building. Singer was nowhere in sight, but Perez was standing just outside the doors talking to Bell and Tyler. After Harm and Mac returned their salutes, the three men fell in beside the two officers. Mac found herself in the center of the group. "Excuse me," she said, smiling slightly, "Did all of you practice this maneuver or was it just a spur of the moment thing?"

"We've been working on this for hours and hours, ma'am," Perez said seriously. "Wait 'til you see us on bicycles."

When they reached the cars, Bell and Tyler split off from the group. Mac watched them leave and then looked at Perez, "Any good places to eat besides the O club?"

"There's a nice little family-style restaurant just outside the base," Perez replied. "I'm meeting my wife there, if you two would care to join us."

"Sounds good, Captain," Harm said, glancing down to see Mac nodding also. He had half his attention on the surrounding area. He'd feel better when she was no longer out in the open. "You sure your wife won't mind?"

Perez shook his head as he held the back door open for Mac. Harm slid in beside her. Ten minutes later, they stopped in front of a small building. Getting out, Perez said, "I know it doesn't look like much, but Mother Jones can cook like nobody's business. I think she's been here since Christ was a corporal. Her husband was in the Corps. A gunnery sergeant, killed in 'Nam."

They walked in and stood in the doorway until Perez waved and started towards a petite redhead who was gesturing at them. When they reached the booth, Perez said, "Honey, I'd like you to meet Colonel Sarah MacKenzie and Commander Harmon Rabb. Commander, Colonel, this is my wife, Dr. Ellen Kelsey Perez." He smiled with obvious pride.

"Mac or Sarah," Mac said, smiling and extending her hand.

"Harm," Harm smiled as well. Dr. Perez was a pleasant-looking woman with a cheerful, outgoing manner.

"Please call me Ellie," she said, shaking hands with them both. "Shall we sit?" After everyone had settled and the waitress had taken their drink orders, she smiled, "I've been looking forward to meeting you both, Bobby's been obsessing over this case. It's nice to put faces to the names." Mac and Harm exchanged slightly uncomfortable glances. Ellie saw and laughed lightly, "Oh, he never goes into details about current investigations and I don't ask. Turnabout's fair play, I can't talk about my cases with him."

"What field are you in?" Harm asked.

"She's one of the shrinks over at the base hospital," Perez said happily.

Ellie gave her husband an amused look, "That's me, wig-picker extraordinaire. Someone has to keep Boo on the straight and narrow."

"Have you two been married long?" Mac smiled, they reminded her of Bud and Harriet. Beside her, Harm looked at Perez with a grin and mouthed 'Boo?'

Perez shrugged and said, "Short for Boomer. I'm pretty good with a riotgun." At the same time, Ellie was answering Mac, "About two and half years, but I was a camp follower for a year before that. My parents had a fit. I thought my dad would have apoplexy when we were married." With a mischievous gleam in her eyes, she leaned forward and stage whispered, "This is the first mixed marriage in the family."

"Ell," Perez said. Mac was looking unsure of how to respond. He looked at Mac and Harm, "She's fourth-generation Army brat and I'm the first Marine in the family." He arched an eyebrow at his wife, "Not being a Marine tends to give people inferiority complexes."

"I've noticed that," Mac agreed. Both Ellie and Harm snorted at the same time and smiled at each other. The rest of lunch went quickly while Ellie kept them laughing with tales of med school. Finally, Mac said, "It's 1213, we need to get back to the JAG office."

Ellie looked at her watch in surprise and then glanced at her husband, "Wow, you were right." She looked at Mac, "That must be handy and annoying at the same time."

"It is," Harm said dryly, earning himself an elbow in the side. Leaving the booth, they paid their checks and walked outside. Harm and Mac waited at their car while Perez escorted his wife to hers.

Mac leaned against the side of the car while Harm scanned the area. She glanced around, "I'm sure it's okay, Harm. They're probably waiting for their rocket-powered rollerskates to be delivered."

"Uh-huh," Harm answered, he looked down at her, "How can you be so casual about this?"