THE NEXT MORNING
RUSSIAN MILITARY TRANSPORT PLANE
SOMEWHERE OVER SOUTHERN RUSSIA

After a tense dinner and night, Harm and Mac were both very tired and restless when they got up to meet Captain Volkonov, neither having gotten much sleep the night before.  With hardly a word between them, they changed into the cold weather gear Volkonov had brought for them and departed for Vnukova Military Air Field, where they boarded the flight that would take them to Grozny.  They were seated at the very rear of the plane, where they could discuss their plans with little chance of being overheard. 

"Major Sokol has arranged for a vehicle for us to use," Volkonov was telling them, holding up a map of the region while Harm and Mac looked over his shoulders.  "However, there are problems.  Many roads, where there are roads, are in bad repair.   Also, many have been mined.  The local garrison in Grozny will provide us with another map which shows the specific areas they believe to be mined.  Anyway, if Sergeant Zhukov is trying to stay out of sight, he would probably stay off the roads with the renewed fighting in the area." 

"Where exactly did Sergei's helicopter go down?" Mac asked. 

"Here," Volkonov replied, pointing to a mark on the map.  He moved his finger as he pointed out the cities.  "Here is Grozny to the north and Uras-Martan just south of where he went down.  Since most of the troops moving north, it is believed that he will head north to Grozny." 

"But wouldn't Uras-Martan be closer?" Harm asked, studying the map.

"Only if he wanted to be captured," was the reply.  "It's a small village and there's not much of an Army presence there.  And the Chechens would love to get their hands on a Russian soldier they could make an example of."

Harm and Mac both shuddered at the thought.  Considering the reports they had heard of how Russians had tortured and killed Chechens, neither doubted that the Chechens would be any less brutal in return. 

"About how long would it take to travel on foot from where he went down to Grozny?" Mac asked.

"If he could walk straight into Grozny, less than half a day," Volkonov replied, "even at this time of year.  But he has been missing for four days. Anything could have happened – he got lost, had to divert to avoid the rebels, been captured or killed." 

"He's still alive," Harm said with an air of certainty.

"Perhaps," Volkonov murmured, a bit more realistic.

Mac smiled, trying to assure them all.  "If Sergei's anything like his father and brother," she stated, "then he has to be alive.  Stubbornness and determination in the face of impossible odds are, I'm convinced, Rabb family characteristics."

A voice called Captain Volkonov's name from the front of the plane and he excused himself, leaving Harm and Mac alone.  Tentatively, afraid of being rebuffed, Mac reached out and took one of Harm's gloved hands in hers. "Harm, we will find him," she said.  "We found where your father had been, didn't we, despite the odds?  We just have to have faith."

"I know," he replied softly, surprising her by not pulling away.  "I am just .... I don't want this to turn out like that did."  

She squeezed his hand comfortingly and continued, "It's okay to be scared. I am, too.  But Harm .... " she trailed off, uncertain about the wisdom of getting into touchy areas, but she forged ahead, "I know a lot has happened between us and much of it recently hasn't been good.  But you can count on me to listen and to be there for you, even when you try to push me away.  I .... care too much about you to let you push me away.  You've always been able to count on me and you always will."

Harm looked down at their joined hands, not quite sure how to respond.  Why did everything have to be so complicated?  "I guess maybe it is a good thing that the Admiral sent you after me again," he admitted reluctantly.

Mac smiled at the admission, seeing it as progress, however small.  But she felt compelled to correct him.  "Harm, the Admiral didn't send me after you," she said.

Harm looked up sharply, but before he could ask for clarification, Volkonov rejoined them.  "We'll be landing in about thirty minutes," he told them, folding the map and stashing it back in his bag.  "We'll be met at the air field by an assistant to the mayor who will be our contact.  In addition to the vehicle, he'll also provide us with sleeping bags, blankets and supplies in addition to any updated information on Sergeant Zhukov's whereabouts."

"Captain, thank you for your assistance," Harm said, offering his hand.  "I can't imagine this mission is officially sanctioned by the Russian Army."

"No," he replied, shaking the offered hand firmly, "but when Major Sokol asked, I was glad to help.  You helped me, Commander, when I went after General Krylov."

"Where is Krylov, by the way?" Mac asked.  She hadn't heard anything since they had left Russia the last time.

"At Lubyanka still," Volkonov told her, "trying to trade interesting stories for his life, but I expect he will eventually be executed as an example of what happens to traitors."  Harm and Mac shuddered, remembering how that had nearly been Sergei's fate.  Both prayed that they would be able to save him this time.

Mac was looking out the window as they landed at the makeshift air strip just outside Grozny.  "My God," she exclaimed as she got her first look at Chechnya's capital.  "There's not much left to the city."  The sight before her reminded her of photos she had seen of bombed out German cities after World War II.  Not even Bosnia had looked this bad.

"No," Volkonov said.  "The Russian Army even had difficulty finding a suitable building to house the commandant, given the damage to most of the buildings.  Many of the people live in basements.  The government is saying it probably will not rebuild, leaving the city as an example." 

Both Harm and Mac remained quiet, not wanting to risk getting into an idealogical debate with the man who was risking so much to help them.  All three were silent as the plane came to a stop and the other  passengers disembarked.  Once everyone else was out, they made their way to the front of the plane and down the steps to the ground.

A man in his mid-forties stepped forward in a long coat and the traditional fur cap.  "Dabro pazhalavat Groznyj," he said, holding out his hand to Captain Volkonov.  "Menia suvat Vasili Ivanovich Meinov." <Welcome to Grozny.  My name is Vasili Ivanovich Meinov.>

"Zdrastvuitye," Volkonov replied, shaking the man's hand.  "Menia suvat Kapitan Andrei Nikolaiovich Volkonov.  Eta Harmon Rabb i Sarah Mackenzie." <Hello.  My name is Captain Andrei Nikolaiovich Volkonov.  This is Harmon Rabb and Sarah Mackenzie.>

"Zdrastvuitye," Vasili said as he shook Harm's hand then kissed Mac's cheek, eyeing her up and down.  Noticing the man's interest, Harm put an arm around Mac's waist as a subtle message. Shrugging, Vasili led them to a nearby car, Harm and Mac climbing into the back seat while Volkonov got into the front seat.  Mac tried not to read too much into the arm that had been put around her, but she couldn't help taking it as another sign that maybe all wasn't lost on that front.

"Nikokoy vadityel'?" Volkonov asked as Vasili drove away from the air strip. <No driver?>

"Moy vadityel' ubival v bombe mashyne na proshlay nedele," he replied.  Harm looked at Mac questioningly. 

Mac felt slightly comforted that Harm appeared to be warming up towards her. Softly, she explained, "Captain Volkonov asked where Mr. Meinov's driver is and he said that the driver was killed in a car bombing last week."

"You do not speak Russian, Mr. Rabb?" Vasili asked, switching to English. 

"No, but I'm trying to learn," Harm replied, only mildly surprised that the man spoke English.  He had picked up some Russian language books after his last trip, but after two months, he was still having a hard time getting past the Cyrillic alphabet.  "But Mac speaks Russian." 

"Who is Mac?"

"That's me," Mac interjected.  "It's the short form of my family name.  You speak very good English, Mr. Meinov."

"Thank you and please, call me Vasi," he replied.  "I worked in the Russian embassy in London for a year."

"How'd you end up here?" Harm asked, astonished at the change from London to Grozny.

"The government tells me to go, I go," he replied, shrugging.  "The government needed Russian officials down here.  We do not get to chose where we go.  Much like the American military officer who comes to Chechnya to search for his brother."

Harm and Mac looked startled that Vasi apparently knew so much about them. Seeing their expressions in the rear view mirror, he explained, "Major Sokol and I went to university together.  We are like brothers.  That is why he asked that I help you.  You can trust me as you would trust him."

Harm looked like he was about to say something to that when Mac shook her head.  Lowering her voice so that only he could hear her, she reminded him, "We wouldn't have gotten this far without Mark's help, remember?"

"True," Harm admitted reluctantly.  He hated having to rely on Sokol for anything, but he would do anything to find his brother. 

JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"I've just heard from Major Sokol," Clay announced.  "He heard from his contact in Grozny.  Harm and Mac are on their way with Captain Volkonov to the site where Sergei's helicopter went down.  From there, they plan to see if they can track Sergei back towards Grozny."

"How does Major Sokol plan to keep track of three people in the middle of a war zone?" Mic demanded. 

"They have a battery powered radio with them that will allow them to keep in touch with Vasili Meinov, their contact in Grozny," Clay replied.  "That way they can be passed information that may help them find Sergei or they can radio out for help.  Unfortunately, there is another problem." 

"What is it, Webb?" AJ asked, slightly exasperated. 

"Despite Russian claims of victory and the beginning of a troop pullout," Clay reported, "there has been increased fighting in and around Grozny.  The rebels have been bombing troop convoys, government offices in the city, the cars of public officials, homes of Russian officials."  Mic blanched at the thought of Mac being caught in the middle of that, despite her military training and time in Bosnia.  AJ looked angry that Clay was just now telling them this.

"Webb, I .... " AJ began angrily, stopping when his intercom buzzed.  He pressed a button.  "Tiner, I thought I asked not to be disturbed."

"Sorry, Sir, but I've got the SecNav on line one," Tiner replied. 

Punching another button, AJ picked up the handset and said, his voice calmer, "Good morning, Mr. Secretary.  What can .... " 

"AJ, I just returned from the Far East and read an interesting story in the Washington Post about an MIA Russian Army soldier who just happens to be the son of an American Vietnam War POW," the SecNav said.   "Now, if this story is true, considering the events of a few years ago, I wanted to make sure that this soldier's brother and his partner don't get any ideas into their heads about taking another 'vacation' in Moscow."

This was the moment AJ had been dreading, when he would have to explain Harm and Mac's absence.  Taking a deep breath, he replied carefully, "The story is true, Mr. Secretary.  Sergeant Sergei Zhukov apparently is the son of Lieutenant Harmon Rabb, Sr.  However, Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie have been gone on assignment since before that article came out.  Unless someone called and informed them, which I know I didn't, then they probably don't even know what has happened."

"Good, let's try and keep it that way," SecNav said, hanging up. 

Mic breathed a sigh of relief.  He saw AJ's misdirection of the SecNav as an indication that he wasn't quite prepared to accept Harm and Mac's resignations yet.  "Thank you, Sir," he said as AJ hung up his phone. 

"Don't thank me yet, Brumby," AJ retorted.  "I'm only willing to give them leeway up to a point.  I still haven't decided what I'm going to do, so I'm not about to go around telling people they've resigned." 

"AJ, if that's all, then I need to get back to Langley," Clay said, standing. 

"Webb .... "

"I know and I will contact you as soon as I know more," he replied.  As soon as he left, AJ studied Mic, whom he thought looked haggard.  "How are you doing, Mic?"

"I'm worried about Sarah being in the middle of a war," he admitted.  "I didn't get much sleep last night, worrying about what might happen.  And I wish .... " he trailed off, looking at AJ sadly.  "I wish I could understand why she felt she had to do this, especially now that, well, two days before she left, she had finally moved the ring over."

AJ was shocked.  He hadn't known that and the knowledge added a whole new dimension to the situation.  But he had long since stopped trying to figure out this particular tangled web.  "Normally, I would say congratulations," AJ began, "but that hardly seems to fit right now.  As for why, I don't think anyone can really explain Harm and Mac's relationship, maybe not even them."   And maybe that's part of the problem here, he thought. 

Mic considered for a moment, then asked, "Sir, can you tell me about their first trip to Russia?  Mr. Webb was talking about it yesterday and .... well, I thought it might help me understand." 

AJ hesitated.  This was something Mic should really be discussing with Mac, but she wasn't here.  Seeing the determination in Mic's eyes, he asked, "Are you familiar with what happened to Rabb's father?"

"He was a pilot shot down in Vietnam and declared MIA, as I recall," Mic replied, remembering what little Mac had told him. 

"Yes, shot down Christmas Eve 1969," AJ confirmed.  "While Harm always hoped that his father had survived, he became convinced of that in late 1997.  He and Mac had gone to California to investigate a body found in the hull of the USS Hornet, which was being scrapped.  The body was that of an officer who had been killed during the last days of the Vietnam War by a Vietnamese officer who was being transported on board ship.  The murder was over a book listing the names of American MIAs and POWs who had been transported to Russia during and after the war."

"I take it Harm's father's name was in this book?" Mic asked.

"So Rabb said," AJ replied.  "The book was stolen from him and Mac after they escaped a fire on board the Hornet.  The thief was an undercover ex-KGB agent who was looking to destroy the book the keep the truth from coming to light."

"And that would be Major Sokol," Mic concluded, recalling what Mac had told him of the man's background.

"Yes," AJ confirmed.  He took off his glasses and tossed them on the desk with a sigh.  "Rabb began developing contacts with Russia, determined to find his father now that he knew where to look, assuming the information in the book was true.  A few months later, he was approached by a man offering to sell him information on his father's whereabouts.  The man ended up murdered by another ex-KGB agent, a Colonel Parlovsky, but no one knew that at the time and the FBI suspected Harm.  The Navy was conducting an Article 32 hearing when he escaped from the brig.  He went to Mac, who had resigned to work for Dalton Lowne's firm."  AJ paused, not sure how much Mic knew about Lowne.

Mic nodded, indicating he was aware of who Dalton was.  AJ continued, "Mac ended up taking over his defense and got him off.  That was the last I heard about it for several months, until Harm went to California supposedly to see his mother.  While there, he met with a man, a former Russian Air Force officer, who had known his father in Russia.  Apparently, after the Article 32 hearing, Colonel Parlovsky sent him a photo of his father taken in 1980 at a rail station in Siberia.  Harm asked for leave to go to Russia to follow up.  Since she speaks Russian, I sent Mac with him." 

AJ noticed Mic start at that piece of information, but the other man didn't say anything.  AJ went on, "They were approached by Major Sokol, who was convinced to find the KGB file on the senior Rabb.  The file indicated that he had escaped shortly after the photo was taken in '80 from a place called Beloyka.  The only flight there was cancelled, so Harm and Mac got their hands on a MiG-29, intending to fly to Beloyka themselves.  Only someone set them up to steal that MiG and ordered them shot down so they couldn't discover the truth.  They ejected, were rescued by gypsies and traveled to Perm, intending to take the train to Beloyka.  But they were discovered in Perm by Major Sokol, who promised to help them find Harm's father.

"The Russian put out a story that they had been taking a pleasure ride in the MiG when they had run into a flock of geese, causing them to crash into a lake.  Not buying the story, I traveled to Russia myself and was there when Sokol brought them back to Moscow.  Turns out Parlovsky was the one who had ordered them shot down, but before he died, he told Harm to look in a village called Svischevo.  Harm discovered that his father had died two years after his escape, saving Sergei's mother from Russian soldiers.  That was apparently the end of it, until Harm discovered his brother's existence during his last trip to Russia."

"I see," Mic said, although that was only partially true.  He certainly had a greater understanding of Harm's determination to find his brother.  Harm's obsession made sense.  What Mic still couldn't understand was why Mac would go so far for him.  It gave him a lot to think about.  "Sir, I appreciate your taking the time to tell me this." 

"I'm sorry, Mic," AJ said sincerely.  "I hope you find the answers you're looking for." 

"Thank you, Sir," Mic replied, lost in thought as he stood and left the office.  He went downstairs and walked outside to the courtyard, brushing the snow off before sitting at a table, trying to gather his thoughts.

So many things were going through his mind as he processed the story AJ had just told him.  Why would she go to such lengths for Harm, a man who was supposedly just a friend?  Even more importantly, would she do the same for him?  That question bothered Mic the most of all.  Granted, he didn't get into the same types of dangerous situations that Harm did, but it would be nice to know that the woman he loved and wanted to marry would go to the ends of the earth for him.  Right now, he couldn't honestly say that he could answer that question in the affirmative.

"Commander Brumby?" a woman's voice asked.  Mic looked up to see Harriet walking towards him, her hands stuffed in her coat pockets.  "Isn't a little cold to be sitting out here?"

Mic stood and gave her a warm hug when she reached him.  "It's just Mic now," he reminded her.  "How are you doing, Harriet?" 

She shrugged as she pulled away and sat down opposite him after brushing off another chair.  "Okay, I guess," she replied, her voice distant.  "I just .... there are days when it still doesn't seem real.  And after the trial .... " she trailed off, looking down at her lap.

"I'm sure you and Bud will be able to work things out," Mic said, trying to offer what comfort he could.  "You two have a good marriage, the kind I've always wanted to have."

Harriet looked up at him, sympathy in her eyes.  "You're thinking about Colonel Mackenzie, aren't you, Sir?" she asked.  "I know she went to Russia."

Mic looked at her, surprised.  He hadn't been aware that anyone knew outside of him, Clay, AJ and presumably Renee.  Harriet explained, "She called just before she left.  She wasn't sure, with your work, if you would be able to take care of Jingo by yourself and asked Bud and I to help."

Mic suspected there was a little more to it, that Mac had called Bud and Harriet because she suspected, after the way she left, that he wouldn't want to take care of Jingo.  But he wasn't about to tell Harriet that.  "Jingo's fine," he told her.  "I took him over to my place until she gets back."

"That's good, Sir," she replied, looking down at her lap again. 

"So what are you doing here, Harriet?" he asked.

"Well, my parents are in town for a few days and wanted to spend some time with AJ," she replied.  "I was .... I guess I needed something to keep me busy, so I asked the Admiral if it would be okay if I came in and did some work today." 

"I guess I can understand the feeling," he said.  He realized his mistake and tried to correct, "I'm sorry.  I can't really understand, but .... "

"It's okay, Sir," Harriet assured him.  "I know what you meant.  But at least you know Colonel Mackenzie will be coming home to you." 

"Yeah, maybe," Mic replied softly.  He paused a moment, then asked, "Harriet, you've known Sarah and Rabb a long time, right?" 

"Yes, Sir, four years now," she replied.  "I met them and Bud not long after Bud and the Colonel had transferred to JAG.  I had taken Bud's place on the Sea Hawk as PAO and they were there on an investigation."

Mic considered, wondering how to ask his next question.  There was still so much he needed to know.  Finally, he asked, "Harriet, did you ever think .... that there might be something between them?"

"The Commander and the Colonel?" Harriet asked, a little stunned.  Surely, he wasn't suggesting ....   "Sir, you don't think. . . ?" 

Mic realized what Harriet was thinking and how his question had sounded and rushed to rephrase.  "No, I don't mean like that," he assured her.  "I think that I know Sarah well enough to know that she wouldn't.  And, I may not like him, but Rabb doesn't strike me as the type either.  No, I meant more in the way of unrequited feelings."

"Well," Harriet began, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.  Even if he was almost engaged to Mac, she didn't feel comfortable discussing something so personal about Harm and Mac with him.  "I really don't feel comfortable discussing this, Sir."

"Harriet, the woman I love has gone halfway around the world with another man on a crusade," Mic exclaimed, slapping the table in frustration.  "I don't understand why that happened, why she would do something like that.  I need to understand that."

At Harriet's startled glance, he apologized, "I'm sorry, Harriet.  I know that you're being loyal to your friends and I don't fault you for that.  I just .... "

Harriet reached out and put a hand on his arm.  "I know, Sir," she said.  "I'm sorry that I can't help you.  I really wish I could.  I just don't know what to say to you."

"Thanks anyway, Harriet," he said.  "Look, you should probably get to work. I'm sorry to keep you."

"That's okay, Sir," she replied as she got up.  "I really do hope everything works out for you."

"Thank you, Harriet,"  Mic replied.  "It did help just having someone listen."

Harriet managed a small smile for him.  "I'll see you later, Sir," she replied as she turned and left to enter the building. 

As Mic watched her leave, he turned over their conversation in his mind.  He certainly didn't fault her for not answering his questions.  He'd seen and heard how close Harriet and Bud were to Harm and Mac.  After all, Harm and Mac had stood up for them at their wedding, were godparents to little AJ and would have been godparents to baby Sarah had she lived. 

And truth be told, Mic knew deep down what the answer to his question was. There was something between Harm and Mac that went beyond mere friendship or even beyond the close relationship of best friends.  The question was how far and how deep did their feelings for each other run?  And could Mic love Mac enough to overcome that?

OFF HIGHWAY M29
NEAR URAS-MARTAN, CHECHNYA

As they had neared the crash site, Volkonov had to pull their car off the road and the three officers hiked a kilometer on foot through a forested area to the crash site.  Mac gasped when they got their first look at the two downed helicopters in a small meadow, now little more than burned out twisted hulks of metal.  "It's amazing that anyone was able to survive this," she said to herself.

Harm was close enough to hear and jumped in to explain what he saw in the wreckage.  "Well, depends on when the fire started, while in the air or after they were on the ground," he explained, careful to control his emotions,  as he walking around the wreckage, careful to stay away from the sharp, jagged edges of metal.  He pointed to one of the vehicles, the more badly damaged of the two.  "This helo looks like it was hit by a missile almost dead center, broke apart while still in the air.  The pilots probably never had a chance."  He looked at Volkonov, who had the accident report, for confirmation.

"That is correct," he agreed, reading the report.  "Both pilots in that helicopter were killed." 

Mac watched Harm carefully, knowing this was not easy for him.  It could just as easily been his brother in that helicopter.  As he looked over the other vehicle, the one his brother had been flying, he paused – whether to collect his thoughts or control his emotions, Mac wasn't sure.  Probably both.

Finally, Harm continued with his observations, his voice steely.  Mac could sense the emotional turmoil just below the surface.  "This helo was hit near the tail and judging from the damage, Sergei was able to control it enough to attempt to land.  It hit the ground tail first.  The cockpit sustained the least damage, which gave Sergei and his co-pilot a chance to escape."

"Sergei did escape, but his co-pilot was reported as being captured, right?" Mac asked, looking at Volkonov.  When he nodded, she continued, "So how did they get separated?  I would have thought they would have stuck together."

"I don't know," Harm admitted.  "It's possible the co-pilot was injured badly enough that he couldn't travel and Sergei went to get help, possibly hoping to catch the convoy they had been protecting.  He may not have known that they had been bombed as well."

"And while Sergei was gone, the rebels showed up," Mac concluded.  "How many survived from the convoy?"

Volkonov checked the report and replied, "Six men out of fifty-two.  And all of them were rescued by Russian soldiers from another convoy."

"But they didn't find Sergei," Mac said.  "So how do they know that Sergei wasn't captured but the co-pilot was?"

"The Chechens have bragged about it," Volkonov told her.  "I wouldn't be surprised to hear soon that they have executed him." 

"So Sergei probably either got lost trying to find the convoy or he came close to the rebels himself and is on the run from them," Mac pointed out. 

"Generally, pilots have a good sense of direction," Harm interjected, "but getting lost is a possibility if he had some kind of head injury or was disoriented by the crash.  But I doubt it.  If he was able to make a relatively controlled landing, then those possibilities are unlikely.  He's likely on the run from the rebels.  What we need to do now is see if we can find anything that will give us a clue in what direction he took off in."

All three spread out around the crash site, looking for blood, fabric, footprints in the snow, anything.  After a moment, Mac walked over to Harm. "Harm, I need to go, um, take care of personal business," she told him. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Harm nodded, but warned her, "Don't go too far.  And you have a weapon, right?"

Mac pulled a pistol out of her coat pocket.  "Taken care of," she replied before turning and heading into the forest.

Harm returned to the task at hand and after another moment, called to Volkonov, "Captain, over here."

"You found something, Commander?" he asked as he headed towards Harm. 

"Blood and some footprints," he replied, motioning with his hand.  "Heading off in that direction."

"It's possible that the co-pilot had a weapon and managed to fire at the rebels before being captured," Volkonov pointed out.  "Or the blood could be from the co-pilot as the rebels carried him off." 

"True," Harm admitted reluctant.  "But wouldn't there be more sets of prints if that were the case?  So far, it's all we have to go on unless you found something."

Volkonov shook his head.  "Nothing," he confirmed. 

"Then I suggest as soon as Mac gets back that we get some supplies from the car and head off in the direction of those tracks," Harm said.  He glanced up at the sky and the flakes that were beginning to fall.  "Damn, if we get more than just a dusting, it would probably cover up any evidence."

He stood, still looking down at the blood and tracks.  If the blood was Sergei's, he could be hurt – and badly.  Even if he hadn't been captured yet, in this weather, hypothermia was a possibility.  And he'd already been out here for four days.

Harm's head jerked up and his blood ran cold when a feminine scream split the air.

Part 4