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…I tell myself that I can't hold out
forever
I say there is no reason for my fear
'Cause I feel so secure when we’re together
You give my life direction, you make everything so clear.
"Can't Fight This Feeling" performed by REO Speedwagon, copyright
1984.

SATURDAY, 27 MAY
1135 ZULU
SARAH MACKENZIE'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN
WASHINGTON D.C.
Mac tossed her keys onto the coffee table and threw herself onto the couch
with a heavy sigh. How had everything gotten so complicated? She
felt as if she were drowning and there wasn't a life preserver or rescue boat
in sight.
First there was Mic. He was sweet and charming and he could make her
laugh. She cared for him. A lot. But he had thrown her into a
tailspin the instant he had made his surprise announcement that he was back in
Washington to stay. How could she be practically engaged to the man, yet
feel that it was such an intrusion on her carefully constructed life that he
had given up
his career in the Royal Australian Navy to move nine thousand miles to be with
her? Twisting the ring on her right hand, she studied the diamond as it
sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the window. It was so
beautiful, so clear. Would that her feelings could be that clear.
And those feelings were all muddled because of one Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr.
After that night on the ferry, when he hadn't been able to let go, she had
been the one to let go. She had convinced herself to let go of every
hope and dream she had ever had about the two of them, hopes and dreams that
she had been nurturing in her soul ever since the day they had first laid
eyes on each other among the roses. She had shut herself off, tried to
maintain a professional distance between the two of them. She thought
she had been succeeding. . . .until last night.
For a few magical moments, as they had held each other on the dance floor, it
had been as if no one else existed. They had just been a man and a woman
lost in the sight and feel of each other. For a brief time, there were
no military rules and regulations, no ring sparkling on her hand, no Mic
Brumby, no Renee Peterson, no ferry ride in Australia. Mac had felt all
of the walls that she had carefully built up around her heart for the past
three months begin to crumble and her hopes begin to soar.
But then the moment was over and reality had intruded once again. Mic
had shown up on the dance floor to claim her, sticking close to her side for
most of the rest of the evening. Every now and then, as she and Mic had
danced, she would find her eyes meeting Harm's and she thought that she had
seen her own tortured soul mirrored in his eyes.
Mac had spent a restless night haunted by those eyes, eyes that had seemed to
finally tell her everything that he hadn't been able to under the stars a few
months earlier. She had tossed and turned as she remembered the feeling
of being in his arms, remembered wanting so much more.
And then, by some strange twist of fate, who should she run into at the park
that morning but the one man who had the power to turn her knees to jelly and
to shake her to her core? And irony of ironies, he had acted as if he
had been ready to listen to her, ready to open up himself and she had been the
one unable to let go of the walls, to let herself finally be free to love him.
Mac jumped up from the couch and began to wander restlessly around the living
room, trying to sort through her feelings. What was she supposed to do?
Build a safe, comfortable life with a wonderful man loved her above all else
but whom she wasn't sure she loved? Or throw all that away for the one
man she loved and who ignited a fire within her soul, but whom she still
wasn't sure was ever going to be ready to love her with an equal passion.
She was shaken out of her reverie by the
insistent ringing of her phone. Holding her breath, she glanced at the caller
ID, then exhaled sharply. It wasn't Harm. After her restless
night, after the scene in the park, she didn't think she could face talking to
him.
Feeling safe because she didn't recognize the number, she picked up the phone
and answered in a slightly shaky voice, "Hello?"
If the person on the other end noticed the
tremor in her voice, he didn't let on. "Good morning, luv,"
Mic said cheerfully. A bit too cheerfully for Mac.
She took a few breaths to calm herself. She could do this. She
just had to keep repeating that to herself. Then maybe she would start
believing it. "Good morning, yourself," she replied.
"What can I do for you?"
Mic heard. He heard the slight catch
in her voice, the hesitation before she returned his greeting. Mic tried
to convince himself that it didn't mean a thing, even as he knew deep down in
his heart that he was wrong. It meant everything. "Nothing.
I just wanted to hear the voice of the woman I love." It couldn't
hurt to remind her what she meant to him.
"That's so sweet, Mic," she answered with a cheerfulness she didn't
really feel. "However, you caught me heading into the shower.
I just came back from a run."
"You want me to join you, luv?" he teased.
"Mic. . . ."
"Relax, luv," Mic said soothingly. "I just got up
myself and thought I'd call and confirm our lunch date." And remind
her that he was the one who loved her.
"I'm looking forward to it," she answered with forced gaiety.
"What time do you want to meet?"
"Why don't I pick you up, say around 1130?"
"That would be fine," Mac replied. "I'll see you
then."
"I love you, Sarah," Mic said gently.
Mac tried to say the words, but they stuck in her throat. Instead, she
hung up the phone with a whispered goodbye. Throwing herself back onto
the couch, she didn't try to hold back the tears that were beginning to fall.

1205 ZULU
DOUBLETREE HOTEL
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
Mic set down the phone in its cradle with a heavy heart. He had heard it
in her voice. She was slipping away from him. Sitting down on the
bed, he flipped on the radio, leaving it on the station it was set to, only
half listening to the music as he turned over the events of the past 24 hours
in
his mind.
He had been full of hopes and dreams when he had landed in Washington the
previous morning. He had truly believed that he was doing the right
thing, packing up and moving back to Washington. Sarah was taking her
time to make a decision, so he had thought that by being there everyday, by
showing her how much he loved her, that he could tip the scales in his favor.
But then one dance threatened to destroy all his plans.
Had Renee been right after all? Was this one battle that he could never
win, no matter how hard he fought? He had spent the previous night
trying not to think about that very possibility, trying to convince himself
that Renee was being paranoid, that the looks that had passed between the
woman he loved and another man during and after their dance had meant nothing.
Sarah probably thought he hadn't seen how her gaze would wander every so often
to a distant point over his shoulder. Rabb probably never realized that
Mic noticed how he would suddenly avert his gaze every time it had been Mic
facing his direction instead of Sarah. But he had seen, out of the
corner of his eye, each tender look, every longing gaze. And each one
drove another knife into his heart.
He shook his head, as if that could shake his tortured thoughts away.
But he couldn't shake away the pain in his heart. Deciding he needed a
distraction, he turned up the radio as the cheerful DJ announced, "All
oldies, all the time. Here's another one from Gene Pitney."
My arms reach out for you
I kiss you tenderly
But when you touch my lips
You’re kissing him not me
Why must it be
Half heaven, half heartache
My loving you darling
Can’t you forget that other love you knew
Within your angel eyes
A world of dreams are there
Yet I keep wondering
If they are mine to share
Oh, it’s just not fair
Half heaven, half heartache
My loving you darling
Oh let my love be strong enough
To take away the heartache
And make my life a heaven on earth with you
Half heaven, half heartache
My loving you darling
Oh let my love be strong enough
To take away the heartache
And make my life a heaven on earth with you
With a disgusted sigh, Mic slapped the switch on the radio, turning it off. It
was almost as if the fates were conspiring against him, telling him that what
he wanted most in life was not meant to be.

1210 ZULU
HARM RABB'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION
WASHINGTON D.C.
After Mac's abrupt departure from Rock Creek Park, Harm had lost interest in
jogging out his frustrations and had returned to his apartment feeling even
more lost and confused. For just a moment, he thought he had been ready.
Ready to listen, ready to talk, ready to reveal everything that he had been
holding in his heart for four long years. But when he felt he was
finally ready, Mac had been the one to turn away.
Harm wandered over to the window and
stared out through the open blinds, his hand clenched tight in a fist.
He had thought that nothing could hurt him as bad as it had in Russia, when he
had finally found out that his father was lost to him forever. Now, for
the second time in his life, he was losing one of the people he loved most in
the world and he didn't know if he could go through it a second time.
Turning away from the window, his eyes fell on a picture on his shelf, one of
him and Mac, baby AJ cradled in her arms, taken by Harriet at the baby's
christening. His arm had been around Mac's shoulders and they had both
been looking down at the little angel in her arms. For a moment, his
mind drifted back to the day AJ had been born, when he had promised to go
halves
with her on a child if neither of them were otherwise involved.
For not the first time since that day,
Harm found himself wondering just what a child of theirs would be like.
Would he have his father's charm and love of flying? Or would she have
her mother's beauty and feisty spirit? And he thought about the joy and
anticipation of expecting a child with Mac, imagined her growing large with
their child, feeling the baby moving inside
of her.
Harm had to admit to himself that he didn't want to wait five years, didn't
want to risk them growing further apart, moving on to other people. Harm
was ready to admit, to himself and to her, that he wanted her. Wanted
her in his life, wanted to wake up beside her every morning, wanted to fall
asleep holding her every night.
He was ready to admit that he had been so wrong in Australia. How could
he not let go, especially when the cost was his very soul?
The phone rang, shaking him out of his
thoughts. He picked up the phone as he glanced at the caller ID.
It wasn't Mac. "Hello, Renee," he said.
"Good morning, Harm," she
answered. "I was wondering if you are free for lunch."
Harm considered. He had thought about calling Mac, but after this
morning, he wasn't sure that was such a good idea. He decided that he
needed a distraction and Renee was definitely that. "I think I can
manage it," he replied. "Where did you have in mind?"
"A member of my film crew told me about a vegetarian restaurant in
Rockville called The Vegetable Garden," she said, hoping he would be
happy with her thoughtfulness. "I thought you might like to try
it."
"I'm familiar with the place,"
he said, a bit surprised. It wasn't exactly Renee's usual style of
restaurant. "That would be nice. What time?"
"Why don't I meet you there about noon?" she asked.
Again, he was surprised. "You don't want me to pick you up?"
"No," she responded. "I think it will be better this way.
Goodbye, Harm." Renee hung up the phone before he could question her
further.
Harm looked at his phone for a long moment, puzzled, before he hung it up.
What had she meant by her last statement?
Across town, Renee smiled. Oh well, it had been fun while it had lasted.
But it was time that Harmon Rabb was shown that it was time to move on, time
to move on to what he really wanted.

Part 2
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