Rhyme is Still the Most Effective Drum Ch. 1
This is mainly a Jim/Mackenzie friendship fic, but of course (being me!) Mackenzie is involved, and so therefore, is Will.
Five members of Mac and Jim's old team are out in the back-lands of Afghanistan making a news documentary about areas both armies have failed to protect properly.
Just a disclaimer: I have very poor knowledge of Afghanistan's geography, I'm not meaning to cause any offence or disrespect – this is all for fictional entertainment purposes only.
NB: about the journalistic ethics throughout this fic. If anything seems rash or overly, stupidly heroic, or whatever, please know that this is not me being disrespectful to the journalists in war zones – I want to be one, and…well, they inspire me greatly.
Mackenzie McHale tried to hide the grin from her face as Will McAvoy and Charlie Skinner appraised each other in the News Night boardroom. Everyone watched as though it was live action drama as the two men gazed at each other to see who would break first. Mac ended up chewing on her pen to prevent actual laughter from emerging from her as she gave up on not smiling. She could see Will caving.
Charlie's knowing, smug smile that he sometimes wore whenever he was giving herself or Will – or even Reese on a couple of occasions – a good old dressing down, started to spread across his face and Will crumpled, before snapping up again to glare at everyone who had giggled.
Mac clapped her hands together and turned back to the whiteboard. "So! It's a no to this pitch! Our second story up for grabs is –"
"You could at least and try to hide your glee!" Will complained grumpily from behind her, earning himself a few more sniggers from the staffers. Mac smiled wider, but didn't turn around, reading through their list of issues of interest for the day.
"Well I could, but then I wouldn't be able to laugh at or tease you. Seems a bit cruel to deny myself the opportunity, don't you think?
"Oh yeah…you should really indulge yourself."
"I think so." She quipped airily, turning back to see Will glaring at her, appreciative grins from her staffers; she winked over at Charlie, "So, next up we have Ne –"
Jim Harper suddenly appeared at the door. Mac put her hands on her hips and tried to look disapproving. "You're late."
He looked at his feet, flustered, a piece of slightly crumpled looking paper in his hands as he tried to speak. He hovered at the doorway.
"You coming in Jim, or what?" She asked, folding her arms, trying to work out what was wrong with him. Jim's head suddenly snapped up and she noticed he looked pale and a little sweaty. Disapproving started to change to concern.
"Can I have a word with you?" He managed.
"Everything okay?" She frowned. Frustrated he asked again,
"Can I just have a word?"
"Can it wait until after the meet –"
"You're about to get a news alert, so are you coming or not?" Jim finally snapped, anxiety now revealing itself on his face and the shaking hand which was holding the paper was now noticeable. She didn't need to be told twice, shooting a glance around the room letting them know she wouldn't be long she followed her young producer out of the room.
Resting a hand on his retreating shoulder she spun him around when they were far enough away from the conference room to not be heard. Jim had to slow his breathing for a minute before speaking.
"You've heard about the bombings in Kandahar?" He asked quietly. Wow, this was not a question she had expected. Her stomach flipped.
"Yes." She said slowly, hoping this wasn't going where she was suspecting it would. Not that she could really see anywhere else for it to go.
He grabbed her arm, and sat her down on the edge of a desk whilst he took the space opposite.
"Here's what is it. You know Rich had taken the guys back out to Peshawar?"
Mac's heart sank as she put her head in her hands, she didn't what exactly was coming but she could now make a vague guess. "This isn't happening." She moaned. Jim forced her to lookup.
"They got wind of some insurgents using the main road south to head through into Kandahar from Quetto." Mac groaned again,
"Don't tell me –"
"They moved out from Peshawar about two weeks ago and were based in a small town about thirty miles outside of the provincial capital. It's quite remote, there are ISAF there so communications were knocked out by the shelling, but we just got this." Jim handed her the piece of paper he had been holding. It was in Arabic. And it was a ransom note.
"They sound familiar." Mac muttered. Jim nodded, tapping the paper.
"They should. They've now merged with other groups in Peshawar but this was originally the lovely fringe group we met in Jalalabad. And I've just done a check on them and apparently their arms routes now run through to Helmand."
Mac sighed. She remembered that little episode very well. It was a week-long hostage situation and it had not been pleasant. She and Jim never talked about it – none of them really did – but they had both come away with a fair number of cuts and bruises.
She read, and re-read the note to unsure she was clear on their terms.
"Do you think it's genuine?" Jim asked anxiously. Mac chewed her lip, reading it one more time.
"Well, I got an email from Rich two days ago." She replied hesitantly.
"You're using the system?" Jim asked. Mac nodded. "And when was his next check in?"
"Not until early hours, Saturday morning, local time. And if the communications are down I might not get it…but two days is two days. If there is anything in this, the longer we wait, the worse it will be for them."
"They won't kill them." Jim said swiftly. Neither of them commented about what they would do – but they'd been war zone journalists themselves; the pain barriers were high, and if you weren't able to accept that you might get being roughed up, don't go.
"This isn't the group we met." Mac lowered her voice as some tech guys walked past. "They've merged with others. We don't know what they're capable of now. If they're working with guys out of Kandahar and Helmand, they're going to be far more…vigorous, than our outdated remnants of Jalalabad Taliban were. Have you verified this with anyone at ISAF? Do we know anyone?"
"I'm trying to get through to a couple of guys I went to college with who I know are based in the capital."
"What about Sergeant Bryan?"
"He won't speak to me."
"Fine, I'll call him." Mac pulled out her phone and started sifting through her contacts. "Who else is Rich with?"
Jim's voice cracked slightly as he reeled of his list of names. "Sam, Matt, Lauren Asford and Kevin too, I think."
"Shit." Sam was Jim's best friend, and together that group made up half of Mac's old crew. Rich Haintz had been her senior producer, and she had recommended him – with reservations which she clearly stated to the board – that he be given a shot at promotion. She knew he was a little hot-headed sometimes, but he had really grown in the time that he had been with her, and impressed her greatly by the end of it. Maybe she should have given it another couple of years. She really hoped he hadn't done anything rash.
"Okay. I need to go back in there and finish the meeting. In the meantime, you call your friends and see if they know anything we don't – which they will, let's face it. You can fax that if you need to and if you get a chance, call the NATO liaison over at state for Afghanistan and say we'll run the story unless we're assured full cooperation to try and get them back. I'll try to be no more than 15 minutes."
Jim sighed to himself, tapping his feet nervously, watching a point just above the left desk drawer under where Mac was perched. She put a finger under his chin to make him meet her eyes. He held his breath.
"We'll get them back." She said reassuringly. He looked about as reassured as she actually felt inside: ie not at all. But they both decided to pretend for now. "We don't even know if this is genuine. They might just be crying for money – the only person they've named here is me. It's suspicious that they haven't put hostages' names."
A little more invigorated, Jim nodded more firmly this time. "Use my office."
He nodded again and turned to leave. Mac rested her arms on her knees and tried to control her breathing before she had to go back in and face the staffers, who by now, she knew, would be watching her and Jim's exchange with great interest. Despite what she had told him, there was a niggling feeling deep in her gut which she had come to trust over her time in the Middle East, that was telling her this was no ruse. Her guys really were in trouble.
Shaking her head to try and push the thoughts to the back of her mind for the time being, she took a deep breath and pushed herself off the desk, trying to walk as confidently as possible back into the conference room.
"Everything okay?" There was no beating around the bush with Charlie Mac thought ruefully. She caught Will looking at her, concerned too.
There was clearly no way to pretend that everything was okay. She simply replied, "We're not sure yet." And then moved swiftly back to the topics on the board, indicating that she was not going to talk about it yet.
I'll try and update this fairly reguarly but I'm wrapping up a couple of otehr stories, and term is just about to start, and also I have no internet at the moment. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it :)