Golden Compass

by Haven126

When the unthinkable happens in downtown LA, Jack Dalton is left devastated. Without his moral compass, Jack slips further and further into a web of predators and shadow organizations. Yet even those eager to take advantage of his skills have overlooked one important fact - and underestimating him is never a wise move.

4. Chapter 4

Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own any of these characters, please don't sue.

-M-

The door hissed open, and Mac didn't miss the way his partner tensed.

But it was Jill's face that poked in. "Director?"

Matty made a come hither motion, and the analyst stepped in. She gave Jack a bright smile, though Mac knew she was aware she was not the person he was hoping to see. He gave her a nod, and she picked a seat closer to the monitor, on the side Riley didn't prefer.

It put her beside Cage, who was still studying Jack like she'd never actually seen him before.

"You know, I feel like I should be offended on his behalf," Mac continued their interrupted conversation. "You knew he was with the CIA for years. What did you think they had him doing? Paperwork?"

Samantha held up her hands, palm out, in clear surrender. "I apologize, Jack, if you feel slighted. You . . . surprised me."

"That was kind of the point." But Matty didn't sound angry. She actually sounded rather proud.

". . . do you think one of us should go check on Boze?" Jack's voice was still hoarse from the blow he'd taken yesterday, but talking didn't seem to actually pain him anymore, and he made a half-hearted gesture at the door. "Seriously, she might've killed him-"

"Oh – Bozer and Riley?" Jill glanced back at the door. "They were behind me, they should be right in."

The glass of Matty's office was frosted, not because what they were saying was classified – well, it was, still – but to keep the gawkers to a minimum. It wasn't every day an agent was shot in the street, kept in a medically induced coma for another two weeks, and then was miraculously walking around, completely recovered. Matty had promised to send out a memo at the end of the day, but before she did, she wanted to complete a group debrief.

It wasn't unheard of, and considering the way they'd had to run this op, Mac had pretty much insisted on it. Cage was taking it pretty well, but Riley –

Right on cue, the door opened, and Bozer's voice floated in. "-t's not that-"

Jack was sitting on the back of the furthest couch, eyes on the door, and was the first person she saw. Given Bozer's tone of voice, Mac figured she was furious, but Riley looked remarkably normal as she walked in, laptop in hand. She glanced at the room, then pulled her phone out of her pocket.

"Am I late?"

"You're right on time," Matty assured her, and Riley gave her a strange look and took her usual spot on the sofa. Mac watched her, and she looked up at the main screen, and thus at him by default.

She met his eyes squarely, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Like it was any other day.

Well okay then.

Mac turned back to Matty, pulling a paperclip out of his pocket. "Where do you want to start?"

"The beginning. Where else."

He inclined his head. "Well, then, take us away."

"Thank you," Matty said, her voice sarcastically chipper. "Okay. People, jump in as needed. Over the last four years, the CIA became aware of several of their retired agents disappearing. No phones, no contact with loved ones, just gone. Never a good sign. Around the same time, criminal organizations that had been under scrutiny for years suddenly seemed to wise up to surveillance techniques."

"So agents were going missing, and the bad guys were getting smarter." Cage looked thoughtful. "I think I remember something about this, wasn't there an op . . . ?"

"There was. Several, in fact, run by most of the major intelligence agencies in the world. ISI, MI6, GRU, ASIS. The CIA ran a joint venture with Mossad, and that's when we started to realize that everyone was noticing the same trend. About six months ago, the American agencies got together and decided to pool resources. Each organization picked an agent they thought would be attractive." Matty's voice went sour.

"For some reason, Jack Dalton bubbled up to the top of our list."

Jack, for his part, perked up, and pointed at his face. "C'mon, look at this handsome mug. Was there ever any doubt?"

Matty glared at him. "Despite my misgivings, our colleagues at the CIA came up with a plan."

"Bump Mac off and send Jack over the edge," Bozer summarized glibly.

Mac turned and gave his roommate a look. "Well, gee, when you put it like that –"

"Hey, man, you know I love you more than a brother, but that's basically what it was."

Samantha was not so easily distracted. "So this has been in planning –"

"For months," Matty confirmed. "The op was compartmentalized. The only ones who knew about it on our side were me, Jack, Mac, Bozer, and Jill."

"You needed Bozer to fake Mac's death." It was Riley, and Mac turned to find her finally actually looking at him. He nodded, but it was Boze who replied.

"Yeah. My boy's died a hundred deaths over the years for my films, but I gotta say, this was the only one that actually scared me a li'l bit." Bozer ran a palm over his hair. "He'd been wearing the blood packs in his jacket for a while, so they were warm. That was more than a little creepy. I put radio packs on his shirt and the window at Ricarnello's. Mac had the remote in his pocket."

Jill held up a hand. ". . . so what, the restaurant had no idea?"

Mac shook his head. "No. We paid for the repairs by telling them the neighborhood had taken up a collection to replace the glass."

The analyst nodded. "I have to say, I watched those videos a lot, and it looked pretty convincing. How did you keep your eyes open so long?"

Bozer smirked and answered for him. "Numbing drops. Same thing your optometrist uses during your eye exam. Stops the need to blink."

"I wouldn't go that far," Mac amended, "but they certainly helped."

"Yeah. It was some of our best work. But you still jumped the gun. Pardon the pun," Bozer added quickly, with a glance at Jack. "You moved before Sarah'd even finished pulling her piece."

"Sarah?" Riley's voice was almost sharp with surprise.

The director nodded. "This was a joint operation with the CIA. Sarah Adler and her partner were part of the team on their end. We needed the hitmen to be as convincing as Mac and Bozer. It was the CIA's house in Phoenix we raided, and most of their agents made up that tac team."

Cage just nodded, putting the details together in her head. "That's why you didn't let me try to unlock her phone. I'd realize the body wasn't real."

"Oh, no, that was a live agent," Jack rasped. "They did almost as good a job as Bozer."

Samantha gave him a piercing look. "And that rifle-"

"Blanks," he confirmed. "Didn't want you goin' all Crocodile Dundee on that group."

Matty held up a hand. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Bozer faked Mac's death, and we swapped Mac out for a dummy at the hospital."

"So those nurses were in on it?" Riley sounded ever so slightly stilted.

"Uh . . . not really." The lifecast cadaver Bozer had made of him was sure to haunt his dreams for years to come, and Mac made a mental note to make absolutely certain it was destroyed when the post-op was complete. "We told them it was a demo model from a medical dummy company, and we were there to film new training videos on handling the loss of a patient."

"Everything was on tape," Matty added. "Not just the hospital, but here at the Phoenix as well. We knew this organization had to be getting inside information from at least one of our intelligence agencies, and we needed the records. It had to look one hundred percent authentic." Matty glanced between Samantha and Riley. "Including everyone's reactions."

It wasn't an apology, but it was as close as they were going to get. Mac had been that guy before; the one who wasn't in on the plan, but still playing his part. He knew how much it sucked. "We needed you two to sell it."

Samantha nodded – it probably wasn't her first time in that role. Riley seemed content to listen silently; when she realized their attention was on her, she nodded too. "Yeah, I get it. I take it it worked?"

Matty gestured at the screen, and Jill brought up several video feeds. A glance told Mac they were stings; one was in an office, two in homes. "Not to skip to the end, but yes. We found leaks at the NSA and CIA." Each window showed an arrest.

"So . . . Lisa Burgess was you," Riley said slowly, staring at Jill. The other analyst looked at her blankly.

"Actually . . ."

Mac glanced back at Matty, who had pursed her lips.

"While I am certain Ms. Burgess had nothing to do with the staged hit on Mac, what you found was real, and doesn't leave this room."

Mac looked between the three of them. "Wait . . . there's a leak here at the Phoenix?"

Matty glared at him. "What did I just say?"

"Matty, they had a lot of our intel." It was particularly rough, and Jack cleared his throat. "Current intel."

"Yes. It appears that's all thanks to our friends at the NSA." Matty's tone made it clear what she thought about that. "Our external data release policies are being reviewed. However, unless there was anything else you found, Riley –"

The hacker shook her head. "No. Just . . . what you wanted me to find, I guess."

Jill gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Riley. I thought you'd caught me at least a dozen times –"

"Nah, you did pretty good." Riley's eyes were on her laptop. "That guy who posted the video out to the dark web, he was with us?"

Jill nodded. "Yeah. I did that, actually. I tried to tag it so you'd find it without too much searching . . ."

"And we're going to have a discussion about that at a later date," Matty interjected, glancing between the two of them. "Getting back on topic, once Blondie and Bozer were off the board, they started following up on leads. Selling Jack going off the deep end wasn't hard, that was basically SOP for you."

Jack made a face. "Yeah, whatever. I think I'm still hung over from like, last Wednesday."

"Well, your country thanks you for sacrificing your liver for the greater good," Matty told him dryly. "We picked up their surveillance on Mac's hospital room and Jack's apartment two days after the hit. They took the bait after the cluster in Arizona."

Mac nodded. "Boze and I went to El Salvador as Jack's backup. Once he pulled off his audition in the embassy –"

"Wait. You were there?" Cage glanced between them.

"They were with Jack the entire time. You didn't really think I'd let Yosemite Sam out of my sight, did you?" Matty scoffed.

Mac smiled at Samantha. "I went in as wait staff at the embassy, to make sure Jack could circumvent security. I tended bar at the hotel for the drop, then I was a waiter again in Paris -"

"Before I graduated you to junkie in London," Bozer finished. "Am I good, or am I good."

Samantha gave the younger man an appreciative stare. "Bozer . . . to have fooled an operative of Rivah's skill that many times-"

Rivah Koch was the name of the recruiter sent to Jack's apartment, and Mac wouldn't soon forget the way his stomach dropped when they'd finally identified her, and he'd realized who they'd just handed his partner over to, and exactly how dangerous she really was.

Bozer probably didn't truly understand why Cage was so impressed, and Mac gave his roommate a few seconds to bask.

"But how did you stay ahead of them?" Samantha turned her attention back to him. "Rivah should have been stringing Jack along . . ."

Mac gestured to the back of the room. "She was. Rivah put a bug on Jack for the embassy job. He gave it to me when I gave him the badge, and Jill tracked it to their base of operations in the hotel. While Jack kept everyone occupied during the drop, Bozer got into their room and got Jill access to a laptop."

"I used your toolkit to clone one of their email accounts," Jill added, again looking at Riley. Making sure she was aware that she'd contributed, even if they'd had to keep her in the dark. Mac sent the other analyst a silent thank you.

"So the entire thing with Masson . . ." Mac didn't miss the sharp look Matty sent the hacker, and neither did Riley.

"How did you know about that?"

Riley took a deep breath. ". . . yeah. I sort of knew something was up, and you'd asked me to look into everyone here at Phoenix, so . . ." She gave Jill a half apologetic look. "I might've been poking around on your rig."

Jill flashed her a quick smile. "You did a good job. I never noticed."

Mac didn't miss that Matty's attention didn't leave Riley, and he made a mental note to ask about that later. "We had to give Eve's operation something to offer Jack, so we created a backstory for my hit that they'd buy. They gave Jack the intel we planted, but we knew they'd never believe that he'd let it go, so –"

"So I creamed a dozen DGSI graduates." Jack smirked a little. "They thought it was part of a joint training exercise. Took it pretty well for a buncha frogs."

"And once Jack had his revenge, Rivah finally contacted Eve, the head of the organization, and we got their headquarters." The rest was pretty self-explanatory. "Jack bought us enough time to scope the place out, and Matty sent in the cavalry."

"And we cleaned house." She walked back to the screens, and touched them, bringing up a series of photographs. "Their entire leadership team is either dead or in custody. We've been able to identify most of the agent they've contracted, and tracking those people down is just a matter of time. The non-American agents have been delegated to their respective international agencies, which means we probably won't get much feedback on the results of their investigations, but this was a definite win, folks. We unraveled a massive anti-intelligence organization, and we got their list of clients to boot."

"Hey, I'll take it. We needed a win." Jack's voice still sounded like gravel.

"Yes we did," Mac agreed. "So what now?"

"Well, now Louis Armstrong back there needs to come back down to the real world and get his damn action reports in." Matty cast a significant look at the back of the room. "Jill and Riley, you'll be sifting through the data we managed to recover from Eve's servers and start marrying it up to known players and any current ops the US has ongoing. Cage, I'll be needing your help with that little issue we discussed earlier."

Matty turned and looked up at him. "As for you and Bozer . . . get that creepy ass dummy out of my cryo lab."

Mac inclined his head. "With pleasure."

He stuffed the paperclip, which had taken the shape of Snoopy's doghouse from Peanuts, into his back pocket.

-M-

Jack sighed, leaning back against the wooden bench and taking a deep pull of his beer.

"Tokyo," Bozer offered into the deepening twilight.

On his right, Mac was sprawled out, elbows on the deck floor behind him and one foot propped up on the actual firepit. "Tokyo's not bad," he agreed. "Someone dragged me up to the top of Tokyo Tower once, and the city lights went on as far as the eye could see."

"Someone got you to the top of Tokyo Tower?" On Jack's left, the recently graduated agent leaned up to look over at his roommate. "Let me guess. Terrorist."

Mac smirked and tapped his bottle of beer against the deck. "She really kinda was."

Jack shook his head. "Nah, man. Sydney's got Tokyo topped. And both of 'em beat London hands down."

His partner glanced over at him. "Did you even see the London skyline? You were only there for about six hours."

"And didn't you take the Chunnel in?"

Jack nodded, trying to pick out Santa Monica Pier without actually standing up and going over to the railing. "Yeah, I did. But you could see part of the city proper from that fancy conference room. London ain't that pretty. I'll admit though, I am a little disappointed we didn't go up in the Eye."

Mac snorted. "Were we supposed to do that before or after you got throat punched?"

Jack gave him a half-hearted dirty look, and turned back to the very distant ferris wheel doing its light show for the tourists. Hell, he had about zero chance of getting Mac up in that little ol' wheel, let alone one as big as the Eye in London. Even if the physics of that behemoth were fascinating, Mac would be happy to be fascinated by it on terra firma.

"That's why I keep tellin' you both to pick up a little krav maga. The Israelis got it right, man. Simple but effective moves anybody can do."

Even out of shape corporate thirty-somethings. He wondered idly which black site she'd been taken to, and whether they'd even had to touch her to secure her cooperation.

"Your voice is getting better."

"Yeah," he agreed, and took another lubricating swallow of beer.

Bozer could only stand the silence so long. "So you were kinda a big deal at the CIA, huh."

The Santa Monica Pier ferris wheel turned round and round, and Jack just watched it. "Nah. Big pain in the ass, more like."

Mac apparently decided he'd roasted his right foot long enough, and swapped it for his left. "Actually, he kinda was. It was a big coup for DXS when he came on board."

"How come you never talk about it? And don't give me the line about havin' to kill me, 'cause Matty's said some stuff that I'm sure I didn't have clearance to hear."

Jack grunted. "Well, Boze, she's the boss. And to be perfectly honest, that is a part of my life that I am happy to have put in the rear view mirror." He shook himself and sat up, plopping his beer bottle by Mac's foot and grabbing the branch he was using to stoke the fire in the pit. "Now, I don't wanna jinx it, but boys, I think we might be on our own tonight."

A few embers floated up from the pit, and Jack kept an eye on them as he reclaimed his beer and settled back. Beside him, Mac glanced at his father's watch and frowned.

"I think you might be right." He tapped his beer against the deck thoughtfully, frown still in place. "Guess it was asking a little much. Hey, just kidding, I'm not really dead, come on over and hang."

Bozer blew out his cheeks. "Come on, dude, it wasn't like it was your idea-"

"No, but it is my team, and it was my call."

Jack glanced at his partner. Mac very rarely pulled the rank card. He typically let Matty take that role, he almost never issued instructions or functioned as anything other than an equal member. An equal partner. He was right, though; it was his team, and when Matty and her counterpart at the Company had pitched the idea, they'd phrased it as though Mac had the option to turn it down.

But Jack was pretty sure if Mac had balked, Matty would have made it an order. "I don't see any other way this coulda gone, dude. Yeah, Cage is a pro and could have faked it, but Ri doesn't have the chops yet. There was no reason to bring 'em in, and they were a lot safer out."

And not that he'd say it in front of Bozer, but there had been a more compelling reason not to read Cage in.

"I know." Mac sounded frustrated. "But you've been that guy. It feels like . . ." He broke off and shook his head. "I work hard to make sure we all trust each other. I don't like these kinds of ops making room for doubt."

"Amen, brother." Jack raised his bottle.

"Maybe we're lookin' at this all wrong." Bozer leaned forward, studying the fire. "Trust me, I know exactly what it feels like when someone lies to you about somethin' super important." He flashed his roommate a look. "It stings, but it makes sense. I don't think Riley'd hold that against you."

"Maybe not forever, but right now she's pissed. I didn't even get a 'glad you're not dead' hug." He shook his head. "As for Cage, I'm afraid I've left her wondering if I have concerns about her capabilities."

"Yeah, she also has the multiple spook agency resume that Jack does," Bozer admitted. "I kinda thought they went with Jack because you're way older."

Jack graced the younger man with a glare. "Thanks, Boze."

"Just sayin,' you're closer to retirement, and I mean, I think Cage has the hots for you, Mac, but even when she thought you were dead she wasn't all that torn up. Meanwhile, the whole planet knows how Jack gets when you've got a papercut. Way easier to sell it with Jack."

Mac opened his mouth, but then he just shook his head and drank his beer instead. Bozer shot them both a quick grin.

"Maybe you're readin' too much into it, and it's not that deep. I mean, when did Matty let 'em know? When we were flying back from London?"

Jack had a couple gaps after getting tagged in the throat. It took an hour for the swelling to go down enough to ditch the O2, and the pain meds and anti-inflammatories kept him from really caring that he couldn't say a damn thing, so he was pretty sure there were some calls they hadn't bothered him with.

He did recall their copilot's surprise when Mac finally remembered he was still in costume, and pulled his nose off.

"Maybe tonight they just wanted to take it all in. I mean, with us gone, who else did they have to talk to?"

Cage didn't seem like the kind of woman to seek out emotional support in the form of coworkers, and he was pretty sure, after what he'd done, that Riley wouldn't have had any to give.

Jack shoved the thought away before it could show on his face. In truth, he'd been both hoping and dreading Riley would show up. This was not a pizza and arcade kinda conversation, and he had no idea how to start it, but he knew damn well he needed to think up a way pretty fucking fast, or –

"You think Cage and Riley are having a mani pedi party at Cage's place right now." Mac's voice was flat.

"Well, no, more like tacos and tequila, but sure. Why not?"

Jack made a face. "Tacos don't sound so bad right about now, but I think I am about done with hard liquor for a while."

"That's probably a good plan."

All three of them jumped, and Jack was on his feet before he made the decision to stand. Riley was leaning on the doorframe with her phone in her hand and an earbud in her right ear, and she had a satisfied little smirk on her face.

"Manis and pedis, huh?" she added coolly, giving Bozer a look.

His mouth opened and closed a couple times, gasping fish style, and Jack, with no idea what to do with himself now that he was on his feet, awkwardly hopped out of the firepit.

"Hey, Riley, we were afraid you'd-"

"Crapped out on you for girl's night in. Yeah, I got that." She plucked out the earbud, and that was about the time it occurred to him to be suspicious.

Mac had obviously made the same leap. "How long have you been there?"

"About ten minutes," she replied airily, scanning the deck before locating the old orange cooler. She made a show of opening it up and selecting a brew. "You didn't notice? Wow, looks like I do have the chops to sneak up on you superspies."

Mac had also taken his feet, coming up to stand beside him, and Jack didn't miss his partner's crestfallen look. "Listen, Riley-"

"Did," she reminded him, and slipped her phone into her back pocket as she approached. To Jack's and obviously Mac's surprise, she wrapped him up in a hug. "Glad you're not dead."

Mac closed his eyes with a grimace, but returned the hug. "Thanks."

She let him go after a few seconds and took a step back. "And yeah, I'm pissed. I just spent two weeks trying to track down the assholes I thought murdered you. Now I know exactly how to do it and not get caught. Keep that in mind the next time you decide to keep me in the dark."

"Message received, loud and clear." Even though his tone was light, his eyes were searching hers out. "Thanks for coming."

Jack knew there was more being said there than just the words, and he couldn't see Riley's face, but Mac's posture relaxed, just a little.

Riley twisted the cap off her beer, and for lack of any better idea of something to say, Jack glanced back at the house. "Cage skulking back there too?"

"No, and I don't know if she's going to make it tonight." The look she gave him was pointedly neutral, and Jack knew he wasn't going to get off nearly as easily as Mac had.

Then again, he didn't deserve to.

"She's handling that other thing we talked about today."

"The leak?" The lightness had left Mac's tone.

Riley nodded, and took a sip of beer. "Yeah, but no. Just good old fashioned embezzling. Her partner at Doggie Daze has been rounded up and Cage is making sure it was just the money and they weren't selling information on the side."

"Wait . . . isn't Doggie Daze that yuppy pet place just down the street from Ricarnello's?"

The very neutral look transferred to Bozer, and Jack took a second to wonder if something had happened above and beyond being part of the joint op.

"Yeah. While I was tracking down all those bogus clues you left me we noticed she was actually there when Sarah didn't shoot you." Another dark look at Mac, who winced.

But Bozer was nodding thoughtfully. "So, if you hadn't been looking so hard, do you think you would've caught her?"

Now it was Jack's turn to wince. Not the best play, man.

Riley's eyebrows bunched. "Dude, did you seriously just go there?"

He started backpedaling immediately. "I'm just saying, sometimes these things have a way of working out for the best-"

"And speaking of murdering people," Jack cut in smoothly, "Riles, can I talk to you for a second?"

There was something hard in her eyes, but after a few seconds she rolled them and let him lead the way to the door. He didn't go inside; the house was pretty dark and frankly, it wasn't the best place or time to really get into it. There were just a couple things that needed to be said sooner rather than later.

"Riley-"

"Look, Jack-"

"Please," he insisted, and she reluctantly closed her mouth and gestured with the beer bottle.

"I know you're pissed that we didn't loop you in and we can talk about that later. Riley, you have got to believe me, what I said to you, the way I acted, that'd never happen –"

She gestured as if she was warding off a fly. "Look, I get it, it's fine –"

He caught her hand and sandwiched it between his, bending down a little so they were almost nose to nose. It was hard to keep his rasping voice quiet, but he tried. "No, Riley, it's not fine. Not ever. It wasn't fine when you were a kid, and it sure as hell isn't now. The apartment was being watched, they were gonna show up any second and I needed you safe. I know I scared you, and I'm sorry as hell that's how I did it."

She took a breath, like she was going to speak, but then her eyes dropped to his hands. He held tight and stayed quiet.

"I . . . when I saw you at that mansion in France, Matty said you'd quit, told Jill to keep tabs on you. I knew I could tweak the software, make you disappear, but-"

Jack bit back a curse. "I'm sorry, you weren't supposed to see that-"

"Well, what did you expect?" She yanked her hand away from him. "What did you expect me to do? Just . . . just leave you all alone, in all that pain? Did you really think if you ignored all my calls, I'd just say fuck it and walk away? Did you think about this, about any of it before you – what the hell do you think of me, that you thought I'd just -"

"Oh, Riley, Riley-" He put his empty hands on her shoulders, hating the way she made to pull away from him. "I hoped I'd piss you off. That you'd be so wrapped up in the work that it'd distract you. Matty and Jill were supposed to be running interference. It took 'em way longer to approach me than we thought and . . . and I hoped . . . when you saw the booze you'd think the worst and stay mad."

She certainly looked mad. "Were you even really drunk, when -?"

He tried to swallow his voice into working better. "Not as much as I looked. I would never have touched you, Riley, even if I was-"

"Well, you looked pretty damn convincing." It was almost an accusation.

"I . . ." His mouth was suddenly dry. "I was thinkin' about Elwood. When I set up that part. I was thinkin' about the night he showed up, and the way he acted. I never . . . I didn't want you to see . . ." He trailed off. "But you are your mother's daughter."

Riley narrowed her eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He smiled, just a little. "That you are just as determined and headstrong as she is, and every single damn part of this op where I had to be an ass is the exact time you checked in."

She huffed out an irritated sigh, and he squeezed her shoulders. "I know you're mad, and I'm not askin' ya not to be. Just . . . just please. Please tell me that you know that I'd never do that to you. Not even if I'm hurtin'. I can't promise that I wouldn't really lose it if somethin' ever happened to you or to Mac, but I will never be so far gone that I would raise a hand to you. Not ever."

Riley looked at him, really looked at him, and she started to nod. "Yeah, I-" She stopped, and then she brought up her free hand and grasped the one on her shoulder, and gave hit a squeeze. "I know that, Jack."

"Good, good." He pulled her in tight, and knots he didn't even know he was carrying loosened a little when she squeezed him back.

Then she pushed him away. "But now I know that you're also a really good liar, when you need to be. This is not over." She gestured between them. "I'm still pretty pissed off. And you're just gonna have to deal with it."

"Yeah, yeah." He nodded vigorously. "Yeah, whatever you need, I'll do it. I'm here."

"Great. Go be over there instead."

She pointed back towards Bozer and Mac, who were gallantly carrying on a spirited conversation with their backs to the house. Jack nodded so much it actually made his throat hurt.

"Yeah. Good idea." He all but scampered back to his seat and his now-warm beer, and she took the seat furthest from him, on the other side of Mac. But some of her frostiness seemed to have thawed, and her attention shifted to punishing Bozer, which Jack found somehow reassuring.

-M-

Mac rinsed out the last bottle, adding it to the growing pile of glass to be taken to the recycling center. Bozer had already finished taking care of the taco remains, and his roomie was shuffling down the hallway to his bedroom.

"You turning in?"

He got a silent wave as a response, and then Boze rounded the corner and was gone.

Mac grabbed a towel and dried off his hands, then looped the counter and intercepted Jack, who had his jacket under his arm and was staring at his phone with a frown.

"What's up?"

It took his partner a few seconds to respond. "Uh, nothin'. Burgess in Accounting was fired, the night shift just sent along their termination checklist." Jack started forward, and Mac stood his ground, directly in his path.

The other man looked at him quizzically. "What?"

Mac gave him a long look.

Jack kept up pretenses for a few more seconds, then he gave up and sighed. "Look, dude, I'm tired, I got a mess to clean up before I turn in-"

"I know. That's why you're staying here tonight, and we'll tackle it in the morning."

Jack hadn't been back to his apartment since before he left for Paris. It was still set for the op, and probably smelled like a dumpster. It was the very last place Jack needed to be.

He looked like he was going to try making another excuse, but then he just sucked a loud breath through his nose and dropped his jacket over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. ". . . thanks."

"Anytime." Reasonably sure it wasn't a trick, Mac went back to the kitchen and grabbed a couple bottles of water. Jack had sunk into one of the couches, fishing in his pocket for the last of the drugs the medic had given him, and he accepted the bottle of water with a nod of thanks. Mac carried his own bottle to the other couch, easing into the worn leather.

They had a perfectly serviceable guest room with a perfectly serviceable bed, where he would eventually chase his partner, but for the moment they just sat in the comfortable warmth of the house, with only the light over the kitchen sink for company.

Mac heard the cap screw off the bottle, and a painful sounding swallow. He could admit to himself that he'd been more than a little scared when he'd dashed into the office and found Jack on the ground. Disarming and subduing Eve hadn't taken him more than ten seconds, he'd kept a running countdown in his head as he'd tried to figure out if it was just laryngeal spasms or she'd actually crushed Jack's larynx.

Thankfully it had been the former, not the latter. He'd had to do a field tracheotomy all of once, and he was pretty sure if he'd tried it on Jack, he'd have gotten decked into next week.

"How are you doing?" he asked softly.

From the other couch, he heard a sigh. "I know what you're up to, Mac, and I'm good. It's not like we're doin' this all the time."

He appreciated that 'we' even if it was incorrect use of English grammar. "Looked like your talk with Riley went okay."

"Yeah," was all Jack said.

Mac resisted the urge to get up and go over there. Jack was being uncharacteristically quiet, and he knew some of that was his throat, but –

"I'm sorry, Jack-"

Jack made a noise that might have been a growl, if it hadn't been so wispy and pathetic. "Knock it off. We talked about this."

"Yeah, well, planning and execution are two very different things." And they had talked about it. At length. Mostly around the all too real possibility that one day one or other of them really was going to be killed, and Mac didn't like the idea that anyone thought Jack falling apart to this degree was not only possible, but plausible, even likely.

His partner huffed. ". . . how much did you two see?"

Mac tried to interpret that question. "At the apartment? We were pretty far out, just enough to see who was coming and going."

"No, I don't mean with Riles." Jack sounded very, very tired. "Don't worry about that, man. That's on me." He shifted, and Mac glanced up, but his partner was just getting more comfortable. He stretched out on the couch, throwing an arm over his head. "I meant Boze. Did he see . . .?"

See that it wasn't like their normal work.

"No," Mac said quietly. "I don't think he did."

He didn't know what to look for. Boze had just gotten out of spy school, he recognized all the pieces and parts, the framework, planning scenarios, building a character. Mac knew his roommate knew it wasn't all fun and games, and that one day, he might be put in a position where he'd have to take a life in order not to lose his own.

But that was because they worked for DXS. Because they worked at the Phoenix.

The CIA was an entirely different animal. Sure, they both strove to make the world a safer place – at least, that was the general idea. They just went about it very, very differently. He'd hoped this one was straightforward enough, much more black and white than most of Jack's previous jobs, but when he saw Sarah – or someone who was close enough in all the ways that hurt, and not nearly close enough in all the ways that were worst –

He was glad they'd had to be so hands off. They'd had no coms, no eyes or ears on Jack save the ones he'd been born with. It was nerve wracking to leave his partner so exposed, but he wasn't sure Jack could put that other guy back on if he'd known they could see.

"Good," Jack grated, then cleared his throat. "That's good."

"Jack . . ." He hesitated. "You're not him. You know that, right?"

There was a long pause. "I coulda been. I woulda been, if you hadn't dragged my ass out when you did."

It was true that he didn't know much about what Jack had done for the CIA. He could make guesses, fairly accurate ones based on the wounds, some physical, others not so much, when he'd see his old Delta overwatch. When they were both stateside, they'd get together for beers, or a morning run, and the guy who had re-upped to keep his ass alive in Afghanistan would have to fight his way past someone colder. Someone crueler.

Mac knew about Sarah, the way Jack lit up when he talked about her. Knew she was doing what she could to keep him grounded. But partners weren't always together, not the way the CIA ran things, and there was too much time Jack was on his own.

When Thornton came knocking with her offer, Mac had leapt, and not just for the potential opportunity to truly save lives, to solve problems on a global scale as he had been unable to do in Afghanistan. It was also a chance to get Jack out. Get him back.

Save him.

"You get my back, I get yours. That's how it works," he reminded the other man.

Jack didn't say anything for a while. "I really hate that guy."

"I know you do." Jack put a lot of effort into being Jack. The goofing off, the constant stream of conversation, the total inability to deal with boredom-

Mac knew why Jack couldn't stand to be bored. Why he was afraid of it.

"I didn't see much of that guy. He'd have done a few things differently than you did. He wouldn't have arrested Eve, for one."

His partner snorted. "This guy didn't either."

Semantics. "Yeah, well this guy shows restraint." Even if the other guy would never have been punched in the throat, because he would have seen no difference between Eve and any other killer in that building. There was a reason that other guy was around, there was a reason Jack needed him.

The best he could do was try not to put Jack in a position where the other guy was required.

"I really hate this job sometimes."

"Yeah." Mac relaxed into the couch. He'd give him another five or so, see if he wanted to talk, but that was probably all he was going to get out of his partner, and for once, Jack's self-assessment seemed reasonably accurate.

So long as they didn't make this kind of op a habit, Jack would be alright.

It seemed like no time has passed at all when a firm hand slipped over his mouth. Mac grabbed it by the wrist before he woke enough to freeze.

The light over the sink was still on, and he could clearly see Jack's face, in profile. His partner had his nine mil in his other hand, and when Mac patted his wrist again, he glanced down, then pulled his hand away with a nod.

Mac got the message, and eased off the couch as soundlessly as he could.

His partner moved silently towards the front hall, having apparently already cleared the living room and kitchen, and Mac saw immediately what had gotten his attention. On the kitchen table, that Mac very clearly remembered cleaning off and wiping down, was a single white candle, lit. It was sitting beside a bottle of wine, and a small piece of paper was propped up against it.

Mac crossed the living room carefully, glancing out at the deck a moment before checking the kitchen – just to be sure. Jack had moved on from the front door, which was closed, and was now working his way swiftly down the hall – undoubtedly to check on Boze. Mac left him to it, examining the candle. It was a standard taper candle, it had probably started as a ten inch and roughly half an inch was gone.

The math was all too easy. The candle, assuming it was brand new, had been burning twenty minutes or less.

He eyed the card, gut clenching, and then steeled himself and picked it up.

Dear Angus,

You have no idea how relieved I was to find that the rumors

of your death had been greatly exaggerated. It was a beautiful

performance, one of your best. I had actual shivers running

down my spine. Bravo!

I stopped by earlier but dear Riley was having so much fun

eavesdropping I just couldn't bring myself to interrupt. I'm

sure Jack was simply exhausted from all the killing he's been

doing these last two weeks, but you really do need to address

your physical security gaps.

We'll talk soon.

Yours Truly,

Murdoc

Mac heard a muffled noise, and then the hall light flipped on. He waited until Jack and Bozer came back down the hall, and wordlessly handed the note to Jack. It crumpled a little in his hand, but Bozer rescued it in time to read it as well.

Mac looked the candle up and down, even going so far as to press his thumbnail into it, but it was truly just wax, and he blew it out, not missing the symbolism.

Twenty minutes ago Murdoc had been standing in this very room, and they had been fast asleep. He could have killed them both then and there as easily as snuffing out a candle.

"Well, he's not wrong," Bozer finally said, his voice thick. "We're gonna have to do something, dude. Maybe get a dog?"

Mac frowned, glancing at the window over the sink. He watched it several seconds, but there was no movement.

"I'm not giving him something else he can hurt," he finally said. "Jack, as soon as we get your apartment cleaned up –"

"Yeah," Jack agreed.

FIN

-M-

I really had no intention of writing anything else until November. But after two months of spending my evenings writing, once the initial happiness at finding myself with my evenings free had been enjoyed, I found I missed the habit. Since NaNoWriMo is supposed to build a writing habit, that's sort of the point of it . . . I guess this is proof that it works.

A few of you are privy to why I wrote Turkey Day. A similar point of inspiration/irritation prompted this. The New Orleans ep did a decent job of reminding people that Jack is not just a grunt, he's a full-fledged CIA agent, but I wanted to read something that demonstrated he's perfectly capable of doing the same high-level spy work as Mac or Cage.

I also wanted to try my hand at writing something tear-jerking, which has been a spectacular failure, though I'm glad I gave it a shot. By the time I figured out that what I'd plotted just didn't lend itself to super sad scenes, I'd written like twenty pages, and I figured Kuku25 (and possibly Gib) would murder me if I threw this out, so I finished it.