The sounds of laughter and Latin music spilled out from the bar and grill as Mac entered through the crowded doorway. After a long day at work, Mac was hoping to relax, clear her mind, and maybe even get a descent meal. She found a booth in the rear of the establishment, and leaned back into the corner, kicking off her heals under the table. Groups of young people dominated the environment, leaning over balconies, playing pool, flirting with each other in jovial abandonment. A few couples tucked away in the shadows, engrossed in private conversations. Mac really wasn't in a sociable mood, but there were limited options in Cartegena this late in the evening. She and Harm were on a TAD assignment, and this case had been particularly stressful and involved. A Marine had been charged with rape while traveling on R-n-R, and he was currently being held by local authorities. The Judge Advocate General’s office had been called down to help sort out the international legal ramifications. Soon to be extradited back to the United States, the Gunnery Sergeant was unrepentant and had given the armed forces a lot of bad press. Columbian officials had been cordial and facilitative, but the political stakes were high. In the context ongoing drug trafficking disputes, U.S. and Columbian investigators used this case to battle over legal boundaries and brought a lot of unwanted attention to the waterfront community of Cartegena.
With all of the tension of this investigation, the emotional distance Mac felt around Harm since returning from Paraguay only widened. It didn't help that they could barely see eye to eye on any of the key issues of this case. Hopefully, they would wrap-up their on-site investigative work by tomorrow, and be able to return to D.C in the afternoon. Maybe she would even have the chance to talk to Harm about some of the unresolved issues between them during their flight home. Mac sighed in exhaustion, when she considered all of the things left unsaid. It always seemed to be that way with them—lost opportunities, missed communications, bad timing. Would they ever get it right, Mac wondered? Someday... perhaps. She could always hope. Her unrealistic, romantic heart gave her little choice.
Mac ordered an iced tea and sandwich from the waitress in her limited Spanish and sat back in her seat to take in the surroundings. It was always interesting to people watch, and easy to get lost in the sounds of mellow music. Then she saw him. Mac realized that she had been unconsciously searching for Harm amidst all of the unfamiliar faces. She could spot his tall form anywhere, even blended in to the cramped restaurant decor and brightly dressed patrons. His handsome features always stood out in a crowd. Mac was surprised at the sudden gladness she felt on a visceral level at just seeing her partner across the room. Harm often had that affect on her, although he probably never knew it.
Mac was about to wave to him, when her arm stopped abruptly in mid-motion. He wasn't alone. Harm was talking intently to a pretty blond woman, and they seemed to be quite engaged with each other. She appeared to be in her early twenties, and gazed up at him like a schoolgirl with a crush. They were obviously attracted to each other, smiling, touching, and making small talk. Mac realized that Harm was flirting with her, and the young lady seemed to be enjoying all of his ardent attention. Mac knew she should look away, but couldn't help herself. She felt like a voyeur into Harm's private life, but continued to stare at the unfolding scene. They stood close together in the hallway leading to the phones. Harm had his arm held firmly above her on the wall and was leaning in like a predator. Come to think of it, Mac had never seen him like this, stretched out and seductive in full masculine form. Although she had often teased him about womanizing, Mac had almost gotten used to the rather asexual Harm of recent years. Somehow it seemed strange to actually witness Harm as an available bachelor, trying to pick up a woman. It made Mac very uncomfortable to consider Harm as an object of desire for anyone else.
Harm flashed the attractive girl his killer smile at something she said, and they laughed together, their bodies coming in close contact. Then, he moved in for a kiss, and Mac reeled in shock as she saw Harm press her up against the wall with his body. The movements of his lower half exuded sexual innuendo, and the girl responded in kind. Mac knew she should close her eyes at the provocative gesture, but still she looked on. Harm seemed to whisper something in her ear, and then took her hand to lead the blond out of the back door of the bar. Mac sat frozen at her table, and felt the heat of emotions wash over her. She was stunned, almost sick to her stomach. She needed some air. Mac got up quickly, canceled her order, and headed straight back to her room. She sat down on the bed, and just examined the sallow green carpet for a long moment. Her heart was beating fast in her chest, and she tried to gather her thoughts. The first sting of tears swelled up in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. She fought the overwhelming disappointment that could so easily envelop her. She tried to block out the raw pain of betrayal. She had no personal hold on Harm; she knew that. He was free to live his life, and enjoy a normal sex life, even with strangers if he chose to. As her gut clenched in dread, Mac finally fell back on the bed and allowed herself to feel the full extent of her sadness. She gave in and cried into the pillow. Some dreams would have to die.
Outside, Harm walked with his companion around the back of the building to a brick courtyard partially illuminated by street lamps. A tree hung over the fence of an adjacent apartment building, and the couple found their way to a secluded corner. The noises of city living could be heard in the background, with occasional bursts of song and celebrative voices. Harm stood in front of his unexpected date for the evening and resumed his flirtatious advances, enjoying a reprieve from his otherwise tedious life. This woman was beautiful and carefree, and so incredibly sexy. Yes, she was barely 25, but who's counting anyway? Her curves and youth were as intoxicating as any drug. Harm was tired of being alone, sick of being immobilized with the propriety and regulations in his life. He was far away from his dutiful world in Washington, and recent events had propelled him to throw a lot of things out the window. Granted, he had gotten his job back in the Navy, but the whole episode in Paraguay, even before that with the murder trial, caused him to seriously reevaluate the direction of his life. He felt like he was in a perpetual holding pattern. He wasn't certain of anything anymore...not the law, not the Navy, not Mac.
Perhaps it was the lull of the nightlife in Cartegena with all the cafes, tourists, and festive lights. There was a feeling of abandon in the air, and Harm felt its pull. On an unconscious level, Harm wanted to lose himself for just one night. Either it was going to be with bourbon in a bar, or with a woman. Since he was technically still on duty, Harm knew it couldn't be with a bottle, leaving him drunk and senseless. Then he had met Heather, and an amazing lightness filled his senses. She was bright eyed and fun, and kept him off guard enough to be a little bit of a challenge. Their casual conversation had spiked his attention, and Harm was surprised to find Heather quite interesting on a number of levels. Of course, it had never been difficult for Harm to find something attractive about most women. Harm liked their company and felt at ease around the opposite sex. With Heather, though, something special had caught his fancy on this, his evening of escape. It wasn't just her striking figure or gifted social skills. She was unpretentious and spontaneous. The daughter of a Navy Captain who grew up overseas, she was temporarily traveling with friends on vacation. Heather had led a remarkable life thus far. Foremost, she struck Harm as being completely unburdened my any emotional hang-ups or obligations. It was refreshing for once to not have any tangled history to muddle through. There were no hidden land mines or sensitive subjects. There was only Harm and this available woman, opening up herself to him....daring him with her wide-eyes to push further. And he did.
When the right moment came, Harm rested his hands at the small of Heather's back and began a passionate kiss. It quickly got out of control, and they became lost in a sensual embrace. He slowly leaned her back towards the dividing wall, and pressed his form against her. Harm felt so alive and invigorated with sexual energy. He wanted more, and he could tell by the way Heather returned his advances that the feeling was mutual. She spread her legs and arched her body into his. Harm could feel the heat of Heather’s flushed skin underneath her thin cotton shirt. The smell of her shampoo and perfume filled his senses, as he kissed the nape of her neck with uneven breath. His hands freely roamed over her physique. It would be so easy to take this somewhere else and let the full force of his libido play out. It had been nearly two years since he'd had sex with a woman. He wanted her, and let her know it.
At some point, Heather pulled back and looked into his eyes with an expression of anticipation. She asked if he had a room somewhere they could go, just for tonight, and he smiled. Here stood this breathtakingly beautiful woman, offering herself to him, no strings attached. A thrill of excitement ran through his body. He studied Heather’s attractive features and found her proposition almost unfathomable, since the whole interlude seemed surreal to him. Perhaps this was just another erotic dream that would leave him unfulfilled and frustrated. If it was, he didn’t want to wake up yet. She was the epitome of youth—long, soft hair, supple lips, slender arms. Her face held no visible lines of age, no trace of hardness or struggle. He wanted to fall into her hazel eyes and absorb her loveliness into his soul. Harm stole another kiss from her in response to her question, and ran his tongue inside her mouth sensually. She was so pliant and yielding. He felt incredibly aroused, and his body instinctively yearned for consummation. Yet, a nagging thought entered his mind, far away at first...but more pressing by the second. He tried to drive it away, but it became unrelenting. Oh, how he wanted to experience the ecstasy of physical pleasure. He longed for that sweet intimacy with her, to adore her, to have her… But…no, he couldn't do it.
Just a little longer, his more primitive self argued. It felt so good, so unbelievably exhilarating to touch her. He had only been given a taste, a glimpse of what he could have…but it was too late. His conscience had already cut him off. Damn it. Why did he have to care? Why couldn’t he settle for comfort sex? But there were just too many reasons why it was wrong, and he couldn’t hide from the truth. He was nearly forty and had no business with someone her age. He also knew he’d never see her again. Contrary to what some had believed of him, Harm had never had a one night stand. He had always engaged in serial monogamy. Sex had always happened out of the context of a relationship, although his weekend fling with Kate Pike might have been the only exception. Even in that case, Kate had not been a virtual stranger that he met in a bar. Sadly, Harm knew it wasn’t in his nature to sleep around, and had to put a stop this encounter. He almost felt like a coward. Why couldn’t he go through with it? Other men did.
With great internal regret, Harm brought his hands up to Heather’s bare shoulders and met her curious eyes, still glazed over with sexual excitement. He let her down gently, and apologized for leading her on. He tried to smooth things over with a half-hearted explanation, all the while he touching her cheek tenderly with his left hand. It was going to take while to bounce back from this one. He knew he had to calm down and think more clearly, or he could still abandon his morals with this pretty woman. His respect for Heather only grew once he observed her reaction. She seemed to understand his ambivalence and responded maturely, without taking it as a personal rejection. Harm was grateful for her kindness and restraint. A few minutes passed, and both of them were reluctant to lose physical contact with each other. Heather rested her head on Harm’s shoulder and they simply swayed together in a silent dance. Finally, after some awkward dialogue, Harm offered to walk her home, and she politely declined. She seemed disappointed, but Harm pulled her into an affectionate hug. Then, their paths parted, and Harm watched her walk back into the well-lit building.
He stood there alone for a while, staring up at the night sky, trying to make sense of what just happened, what might have transpired. He felt a chill in the air, and was acutely aware of how disconnected he felt from the world of happy, normal people…in relationships, creating lives together, making commitments, making love. With much self-recrimination, Harm headed off down a dark alley and emerged onto the main city street, amidst horse-drawn carriages and white-washed hotels. He walked aimlessly for nearly two hours, down cobblestone sidewalks, across bridges, and finally along the beach front. He sat down in the sand, and just listened to the waves crashing with ominous power against the eroded fortress walls of the city. He always felt at home at the beach, but not this time. He didn’t feel comfortable in his own skin. He wanted resolution, but could find none. Eventually, he returned to his hotel room and fell face down on his bed in defeat. His spirit was utterly dejected. He thought about Mac in the next room over. Although it was irrational, he partially blamed this whole situation on her. She was with Webb now. That was her choice. As he lay there filled with mixed emotions, he assessed the state of his affairs. He was a grown man, an emotional cripple really, still celibate after two years, still semi-aroused, lonesome and depressed. He was once again left alone.
The next morning over breakfast, both Harm and Mac found it difficult to continue the facade of a working relationship. They were formal and guarded with each other, but for appreciably different reasons. Harm noticed that Mac made little eye contact with him and wore sunglasses as they headed off to the marina, atypical behavior for his partner. He thought it was odd, but, frankly, didn’t care enough to pursue the reason for her cool demeanor. He was in a disagreeable state of mind himself.
When they found the right tour boat operator at the docks, Harm and Mac gathered as much information as they could through translation and were relieved to find an individual who spoke some English. In full uniform, they stood on the dock for the better part of an hour, asking questions about one of the last places the accused Marine had taken the victim. The mid-morning heat was quickly becoming oppressive. Harm and Mac prodded for any eye witnesses who might have seen the couple. They queried the boat operators about their daily schedules, customers, and offshore routes. For some unidentifiable reason, a tension seemed to be building in the strained, confused conversation that followed, but it was easily attributed to the language barrier and sensitive subject matter. They politely requested to hire a speedboat for a visit to the nearby Rosario Islands, a tourist destination pertinent to the investigation. An older man named Mateo agreed to take them out. Although Harm felt an instant unease around the senior boat driver, he continued making arrangements for the tour. Harm noted the man’s defensiveness, but shrugged off any nagging distrust he had with his own expedience. He wanted this assignment over. He deliberately ignored his instincts that something was amiss. Additionally, he was reassured by the observation that his partner didn’t seem at all concerned. Harm and Mac got into the vessel, and asked to store their two carry-on bags in an out of the way place. They had decided to check out of their hotel early and go directly from the marina the airport, after this last piece of the local investigation was completed. It was an unspoken understanding that both Harm and Mac wanted to return to D.C. at the earliest opportunity. They shared a tacit hope of getting some physical distance from each other after the events of the previous evening.
Once the boat was underway, the motor droned on and waves crashed against the hull rhythmically, lulling Harm and Mac into a sleep-deprived daze. They rode in silence, each in their own contemplative world. Harm thought that this excursion might have actually been nice if it weren’t for the fact that he was so preoccupied with the problems in his personal life. The sun was already bright in the sky and the ocean sparkled brilliantly around them. The islands were about 50 miles offshore, filled with beautiful white powdery beaches and a few hidden tourist attractions. Harm noticed a number of scattered smaller islands, but assumed they were still heading towards a larger destination. He had to admit that his job had its benefits. He was being paid to visit a tropical paradise. What Harm didn’t notice was that the boat driver was heading out to sea, away from the safety of the Rosarios.
After nearly two hours of boating, Mac began to wonder why it was taking them so long to reach the main island group. She looked off the distance and could see no land in any direction, except one relatively small island. They seemed to be headed towards it, which registered as a bit strange to Mac. She remembered the brochures she had seen, and this just didn’t seem fit. Still, she tried to relax and quell her growing concern. As they drew closer to the solitary land mass, Mac realized that Mateo had cast a number of nervous glances their way. Something was wrong. She felt it. She tried to alert Harm, but his head was turned. When they were within swimming range of the sandy beach, all at once, Mateo turned the engine down to an idle and pulled a gun on them.
“Get out, now!” His eyes were hard and never veered from their stunned faces.
“What…what are you doing?” Mac asked in alarm.
“We don’t need any nosy Americans coming around here…asking questions, bringing in some heat…”
Harm lifted his hands in surrender and cautiously tried to reason with him. “Wait, you’ve got us all wrong. We’re just here for a legal investigation of—”
“Shut up! Get in the water!!” He seemed completely serious, and a little frantic around the edges. He was obviously not someone who could be negotiated with. He waved the gun, and started yelling in Spanish.
“You’re just going to leave us here, treading water in the middle of nowhere? You must be crazy!! Who’s going to find us?” Mac continued on a tirade, and began to stand up to her perpetrator.
Harm tried to intervene since he could see the desperation and panic in the man’s eyes. This guy was obviously in a lot of trouble and wasn’t thinking clearly. It was probably drug related, which meant he and Mac were in way over their heads. Harm knew they could actually get killed in such an unstable situation. Clearly, they had inadvertently messed with the wrong people. If he could only get his footing on the boat and a timely diversion from Mac, maybe he could take Mateo down. Come on, Mac…where are those Marine instincts? Don’t rile up the man any more than he already is! Back down, ease off…
But Mac kept at him, and Mateo became increasingly agitated. He shot the gun off in the air, and yelled a last warning at them, leaning forward to shove Mac off the boat. Harm was still too far away to jump him, so instead lunged to protect Mac from any bullets. She fell in the water and Harm dived after her, knowing it was too late to have a fighting advantage with Mateo. He came up for air, and realized that he at least had to bargain for the necessities of survival.
“Leave us an emergency kit, something…” Harm pleaded, partially shocked by the immersion in salt-water. Mac splashed near him, preparing to launch another verbal attack.
Mateo kicked up the engine, but kept the boat in neutral for a moment. He seemed to consider their pitiful predicament.
“You left us near an island, so just throw us a few other things—” Harm argued.
“!Càllate!” he shouted. Then in haste, he dumped over their luggage and a small orange box. He revved up the motor, turned his back, and sped off full throttle, leaving a trail of white foam in his wake. This isn’t happening, Harm thought. But it was, as horrible as it seemed. Acting fast, Harm dove down to grab their sinking bags, and Mac followed. He found one, and came to the surface in flurry of effort. It felt like dead weight, but he wasn’t going to let go. He saw Mac rise, and struggle to remain afloat, and he called to her through mouthfuls of water, imploring her to just leave the bag. She refused and began to swim lamely towards the shore. It wasn’t that far. Harm could just come back later for the bag. He saw no point in Mac exhausting herself with such a ridiculous task. The flight bags were like lead. Yet, Mac, ever proud, ignored his message and forged on. Harm managed to grasp the plastic orange box before it floated out of reach, and made his way towards the beach behind Mac. After twenty minutes, they both staggered out of the waves and fell on the sand. They lay there in two motionless heaps, each breathing heavily and resting their depleted muscles.
“Damn it!” Mac cursed under her breath. “What just happened? How did this happen?”
“I think we stumbled upon some drug trafficking operation….That’s the only thing I can figure,” Harm threw out tiredly.
“How many Americans come to Cartegena, just for vacation…or for work, and end up being dumped out in the middle of the F------ ocean?!!” Harm flinched at her swearing. He knew she had a more colorful vocabulary from her early years in the military. “Why us?” Mac continued. “This just doesn’t make any G-- D--- sense!”
“Maybe he was scared off by our official status or something. He seemed to think we were investigating them…” Harm slowly sat up and tried to think it through.
“What are we going to do out here? What the hell are we going to do?” Mac asked no one in particular. Harm looked over at Mac and saw that she had draped her arm across her eyes. Her body was shaking slightly, but he knew she wasn’t crying. She was just pumped with adrenaline and mad as hell.
“Well, we should stay calm and try to think about our options.”
“What options? We have no options, other than sitting here and waiting for some cruise boat to float by!”
“We’re not that far from the coast. Someone is bound to travel past this island. The truth is, Mateo must have had some sort of a guilty conscience to leave us near land. He could have just as easily killed us. No one would ever know.”
“Don’t give that bastard any credit!”
“I was only saying we’re lucky to be alive.”
“Oh, brother! I wouldn’t call our situation lucky. Give me break, Harm…please!” she said with exaggerated sarcasm.
Harm got up and decided to leave Mac with her argumentative attitude. This wasn’t the time to talk to her. His clothes were soaking wet, so he pulled off his outer uniform shirt, leaving his white t-shirt in place. The noonday sun would dry the rest fairly fast. Harm walked down the beach and tried to take stock in their situation. He figured it would take a day for someone to notice that they were missing, three or four before another boat might venture into the area. Regretfully, Harm and Mac had not informed anyone that they were going to be visiting the Rosario Islands as a part of their investigation. Those at JAG Headquarters would not know to look for them off shore from Cartegena. They needed to prepare for the possibility of being stranded on the isle longer. He felt a little worried about the conditions under which they’d have to live, but was confident that they would survive this ordeal. The island appeared big enough to provide fresh water and food to sustain them. They were not drifting lost at sea. He’d certainly been in worse situations. It was just a matter of time before they were found.