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Harm quickly disarmed Simon, noting that the rogue ex-spy was bleeding profusely from the shoulder wound that he'd inflicted to keep him from taking out his intended target.
Nearby, Mac stood in Clayton Webb's arms, neither of them speaking, just holding each other. "I'll go make the call," Harm decided, leaving the two of them alone. If Mac's reaction to Simon's news of Webb being alive hadn't convinced Harm that she was in love with the man, the way she held him now would have.
There was no hope. He'd waited too long, missed his chance. It was time to move on. He opened his cell phone and dialed the number for Harrison Kershaw's office - the direct number that they'd been given once this was over so that the Agency could come in and "clean up".
"It's finished," he said into the phone, and gave them the location. "I won't be here. You know where to find me. But I'll file a report - and then I don't want anything more to do with you or your people."
He turned back to look into the building, seeing Mac and Webb still standing where they had been, talking softly between themselves, as if he didn't exist. Maybe he didn't to them. They were wrapped up in their own little world. Harm still couldn't quite understand how Mac could just forget about Webb having lied to her, about the fact that he had gotten his assistant to send those gifts - but it was her choice to make, and Harm wasn't going to step in.
Maybe one day he'd find someone who could make him forget Mac. He wasn't going to cut himself off the way he had last year - he couldn't go through that again. Having her in his life as a friend was better than not having her in his life at all, he'd realized.
But it was going to be hell, getting through this. He'd done it once, with Brumby, though. He could do it again. Pasting a smile on his face to hide his breaking heart, Harm stepped back into the room. "They should be here soon. I have to go. Mattie's waiting."
Mac and Webb moved apart, but they kept their arms around each other, as if they couldn't stand the thought of not being in physical contact after everything that had happened. Webb's hand came out. "Harm, thank you. For everything."
"Don't mention it, Webb," Harm said, taking the spy's hand and shaking it briefly. Glancing at Mac, he said, "Give me a call once things get settled," he said.
"Harm?" Mac said, her voice sounding uncertain. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he told her. "Why wouldn't I be? My best friend's happy. That's good enough for anyone, don't you think? I have to go," he said again, edging toward the door. "I'm glad the reports of your death were premature again, Webb," he noted, and then escaped from the room and the building, taking a deep breath once he was outside.
Mac had found her happiness. It was time for him to find his. Even if it was without Mac.
The End