Aftermath

Chapter 1

Where did the screaming come from?

She turns, and a face comes into view. Sadik Fahd's mouth is moving, but she can't make out what he's saying. The screaming starts again, but comes to an abrupt halt.

She notices the knife in Sadik Fahd's hand. He stabs her fake pregnancy belly with force, as he laugh out loud.

"You're next."

She sees two men carry out Clayton Webb from the shed and she starts to run towards them. They dump Clayton Webb's body on the ground.

"It's over for him!" Sadik yells after her.

"No!" She get on her knees in front of Webb. "Clay?"

The two men grab her arms and pull her to her feet. She's dragged towards the shed.

Suddenly she's strapped to a table, Sadik standing over her. She's looking towards the door, expecting someone to walk inside to save her, but the only face she can see is Sadik's

"He won't come after you."

She's staring into his evil eyes, wondering why the story has changed.

She sat up in bed and tried to breath. She was hyperventilating, and had to really concentrate to calm her breathing. She reached for the water bottle she always kept beside her bed and drank. She half emptied it.

For three weeks she'd had the same dream. Evey night she'd wake up feeling the same way. Terrible.

It was 05.33.

She decided to get up and start the day. She slowly got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror for a while, staring at the reflection of her self. She still hadn't gained the weight she'd lost in Paraguay, and if she didn't start taking better care of herself she would become skinny. She didn't like herself much as skinny, bones poking out everywhere. The way she'd been as a teenager.

She turned away from the mirror, reaching out to turn on the water in the shower. She stepped inside and let the warm water wash away the dream she'd had, if only the water really could have that power. At least she felt a little better.

JAG Headquarters

0700

LtCom Bud Roberts day started with coffee in the break room. He'd had a terrible night. Little A.J had been feeling bad most of the previous day, and around midnight he'd woken his parent's up because he'd started throwing up. He had a fever and he didn't look too good.

Bud had spent an hour cleaning vomit out of his son's room, removing bed clothing and put on new. At around 0300 this morning he had a new round of cleaning vomit, and again this morning before he left for work.

Bud looked up when he noticed someone's presence in the room.

"Morning Bud."

"Morning, ma'am."

Mac reached for a mug. "You look tired. Bud. The baby keepin' you awake?"

Bud wished it was the baby, and not the vomit. "A.J was up vomiting most of the night."

"Poor guy." Mac felt a sting of bad conscience. She hadn't been by to see her godson after she'd returned from Paraguay.

"Yeah." Bud agreed. "You look tired too, ma'am."

"Bad dream." Mac admitted. "Paraguay." She added, knowing that would save her from explaining any further.

"Have you talked to someone, ma'am?" Bud knew he couldn't ask questions about the Colonel's experiences last month, but at least he could give some advice.

"No." Mac said quietly, thinking of her best friend and how much she wished she could talk to him.

"Have you heard from the Commander?" Bud asked as if he'd just read her mind.

Mac shook her head sadly. "Not this week. And it's not Commander, it's Harm."

"It's an old habit I guess, hard to break." Bud hesitated. "Do you miss him?"

"More than I thought was possible." Mac felt like she was about to lose control and start crying. She hurried to change the subject. "I have an appointment soon. See you later, Bud."

"Yes, ma'am." Bud watched her go. "I miss him too." He added quietly to himself.

Porter Webb's house

Later that day

Mac rang the doorbell to the beautiful house where Clayton Webb's mother lived. She'd skipped lunch and driven out to see Mrs Webb instead.

The door opened. "Sarah?"

"Hi, Mrs Webb. How are you?"

"Come on in." Mrs Web stepped aside. "You should have called to let me know you were coming, I would have prepared lunch."

"It was an impulse, ma'am." Mac studied the older woman. She looked older than Mac remembered. "Are you okay?"

"Okay? Well, I don't know about that, but I'm dealing with everything as well as can be expected of someone who just lost a son." Mrs Porter led Mac into the living room. "Sit down, please."

Mac chose a chair by the window and looked outside at a spacious back yard. "You have a lovely home, Mrs Webb."

"Clayton was a lucky boy. He got to grow up loved and with endless opportunities." Mrs Webb got a sad expression on her face. "But he chose the company."

"He was good at it." Mac offered a sad smile. "But I guess that's a small comfort right now."

Mrs Webb nodded. She studied the sad looking younger woman. "You can't walk around feeling guilty, Sarah. It will mess you up completely."

"How do you get over someone dying to protect you?" Mac studied a picture of Clayton Webb sitting on a horse. He couldn't have been more than ten years old when the picture was taken. Mac had problems picturing Clay so young.

"You have to make peace with it. Tell me, have you spoken to someone, professionally, about your experiences in Paraguay?"

"No, I can't talk to strangers." Mac shrugged. "And I doubt that a psychiatrist could fix me."

"How about a close friend?"

Mac's mind went directly to Harm. "I can't talk to him."

Mrs Webb looked confused. "Then he isn't a very good friend, is he?"

"I can talk to him, but I can't locate him." Mac corrected. "He joined the CIA when we came back from Paraguay." Mac knew that Mrs Webb would connect the dots. She hat connections within the company, and probably knew all the details about the mission in Paraguay.

"Commander Rabb. I never pictured him as a company man, but I guess I was wrong."

"I'm worried about him, and I'm also the reason why he's not at JAG anymore." Mac admitted.

"Oh, I don't know about that. No one told him to go after you, it was his choice."

"That's what he said too." Mac was referring to a conversation she'd had with Harm before he went into CIA training.

"My advise to you is to do whatever you need to do to put this experience behind you, Sarah. I don't know what you need to do, only you know that, but whatever it is you must do it to be able to move on from this." Mrs Webb reached out and took Mac's hand in hers. "You're a strong woman, Sarah. That's why Clayton chose you for the mission."

Mac nodded, before she let go of Mrs Webb's hand and stood. "I better get going. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Let me know if you need anything."

Mrs Webb stood as well. "Take care of yourself, Sarah."

"You too, Mrs Webb. And thank you."

Mac's apartment

Two days later

Friday night

She'd left another message on Harm's answering machine. She missed him so much, it was torture.

Their last conversation before he left came into her mind.

Harm had just stepped inside her apartment. "I'm going away for a few weeks. Need some training before I can go on missions."

Mac closed the door and focused on him. "I'm so sorry, Harm."

"Mac, don't do this. It was my choice to come after you, and I'll never regret it. Think of it this way, now we don't work together, and we could figure out what we are?"

She felt the first tear escape her eye. "I don't want you to go."

"I'll be back."

"There's so much to say..."

"You'll have time to say it when I get back." He pulled her into his arms and hugged her close. "Take care of yourself."

She nodded into his shoulder. "You too."

He let her go. "See you when I get back."

"Yeah." She said with a shaky voice.

Rethinking the situation she should have told him how much she needed him to stay. How much she was hurting, and needed him. She hadn't because that would have made her feel even more guilty, and she wouldn't have been able to deal with that.

A knock on the door interrupted her thinking.

Absentmindedly she opened without checking who it was. "Harm?"

He smiled warmly. "I'm leaving town this weekend. Pack a bag and join me."

She turned and walked towards her bedroom. "Give me ten minutes to pack."

To Be Continued...