1540 Zulu
Somewhere near Chaco Boreal, Paraguay

Harmon Rabb, Jr. found the cover that he needed in the crumpled remains of the smoking aircraft. Gently he lowered the oil stained blanket over the form.

The cawing of the tropical birds and wind blowing through the rainforest trees didn’t faze him. He absently swiped at the drying blood on the side of his face. His arms felt like lead. All he could do was stare blankly at the silent form. He closed his eyes and a single tear trickled down his face. Then a voice startled him out of his mourning.

C’mon Sailor, get a move on! Sadik’s men will be looking for us!

Harm looked around and saw no one. But, he realized the voice was right. He picked up the bundle in a fireman’s carry and started moving away from the destroyed aircraft. Each footstep felt like it was being made underwater. Tears sprang to his eyes again as he felt the form bounce on his shoulders

Hey Flyboy….

There it was again. Mac’s voice--

He stopped.

Snap out of it. We’ve got get some distance between this plane wreck and us. I told you I’d never leave you….

“But you did Mac,” he whispered, his voice trembling, “I can’t go on…not without you…”

Mac’s voice was strong and insistent.

Yes you can Stickboy, don’t give up now. Just get us over that hill and everything will be fine. I promise.

Harm wiped his eyes and started up the trail toward the hilltop. He wanted badly to believe that voice. Jungle vines tried to tear at his arms and legs, threatening to trip him. But he didn’t see them. He only saw the figure standing at the top of the hill with her hands on her hips, a playful smile on her face.

C’mon Harm!

He shook his head. If Mac was up there, whom was he carrying?

Harm! Come on! Move your six!!

Extinguishing the thought, Harm negotiated the last twenty feet to the summit of the hill. He could see Mac in her pregnancy outfit, smiling at him. It was that smile that lit up his whole world.

You made it Flyboy! I knew you could do it….

Gunny looked at Harm coming up the overgrown hillside carrying the bloodstained form.

Victor couldn’t tell if Harm had been hurt, but the look in his eyes—that haunted, driven look—something bad had happened. Then he saw it. Gunny winced at the sight of the bloody female arm that dangled limply out from under the blanket. “Sir…Harm….”

“She got me back here Gunny,” said Harm in a low voice, almost reverent, “We made it back….”

Harm turned to see Mac smiling at him.

Gunny walked over to the former Commander. “Sir how long have you been walking?” He cautiously reached out toward the blanketed form.

“Six hours and twenty-four minutes.” he said without pausing.

Stunned by an admission that only Mac could have spoken, Victor Galindez felt a lump forming in his throat. “Let’s get you out of here Sir,” said Gunny hoarsely, taking his hand.

“Mac did it Gunny, she wouldn’t let me stop to rest…she wouldn’t let me give up.”

Victor looked at the former Commander trying to understand what must be going through his tortured mind. He looked again at the blanketed form. “Here Sir, I’ll take that--let me carry her for you….”

“Okay….” Harm said distractedly. He looked beyond tired. The weight that he was carrying seemed to be overwhelming him.

Without argument, Harm let Gunny take the weight off his shoulders. As Gunny felt the body hit his, he saw Mac standing in the distance.

Take him home Gunny….

Victor could not believe what he was seeing.

I can’t take him there, but you can. Semper Fi Gunny.

“Semper Fi Ma’am,” he replied quietly, “I’ll get him home.”

---Fini

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