The next morning, Jack woke to find that he and Siobhan hadn't moved from their positions of the night before. Though they hadn't so much as kissed, waking up in her arms felt more right to him than the myriad of mornings after he'd had over the years.
As much as he wanted to, Jack knew he couldn't stay like this all day. Carefully, he slipped out of her arms and padded into the bathroom to shave. When he came out clean-shaven and dressed, Siobhan was still asleep.
He sat next to her, gently rubbing her shoulder as he whispered, "Siobhan, time to get up. We've got a bio-weapon to steal." He saw a faint smile on her face and she opened her eyes.
"Aw, do we have to?" She took in his appearance, "Why didn't you get me up sooner? Aren't we going to be late?"
"It's still early, actually. We've go about an hour and a half before we have to leave. Besides, I wanted to let you sleep after last night," he paused. "Thank you. You shouldn't have to deal with my . . . issues while we're on assignment."
"Jack, haven't you figured it out yet? I'm in this for the long haul. The good, the bad, and the ugly. As much or as little as you're willing to give." She gave his hand a squeeze and kissed his cheek before heading to the bathroom to get ready.
An hour later, they had their bags in the rental car and were on their way to a local museum. A man named Muhamad Akbar Sharif, who was an American expatriate and international terrorist, owned it. It was believed that he had ties to Osama Bin Laden.
They were introduced to the curator, who informed them that he had several pieces that would be of interest to them. He showed them to a private viewing room, gave a brief history of each object, and left the room, letting them know he would return in a half an hour to check on them.
As soon as the door closed, Jack sprung into action. Siobhan ran to lock the door then joined Jack at the far end of the room next to a door marked 'private.' That was where the weapon was being stored. After picking the lock, they stared at what was behind the door.
Approximately a half-gallon of an amber colored liquid sat in a hexagonal shaped container. The vial was placed on top of what seemed to be a weight sensitive cube, surrounded by glass on all sides except the top. An intricate patter of lasers criss-crossed the interior of the glass; wires protruded from the base, connecting with the wall.
"Could you shine the flashlight for me?" he asked. Jack needed to examine the wires to determine which to cut. After a few moments, he saw a small, unobtrusive wire at the bottom of the apparatus what appeared to be the lynchpin. Just as he cut the wire, they heard a knock at the door.
"Professors?" Is everything all right? Why is the door locked?"
"Go, stall him," Jack directed Siobhan. He still needed time to deal with the weight sensitive base.
As he worked, he subconsciously took in Siobhan's apology to the curator. She was trying to keep the man from entering the room, but he was not going to listen to a woman. Jack had just managed to get the vial out of the container and into his bag when the curator spoke directly to him.
"Professor, you will put the container down now or I will not hesitate to hurt your woman."
Jack looked up to see the man nudging Siobhan toward him, one arm twisted behind her back and a knife at her throat. She was calm, but he could tell that she was concerned. He lowered the bag, slowly, not wanting to make any sudden moves.
"Are you alright?" he spoke directly to Siobhan, trying to catch her eye. After she murmured a soft 'yes,' he turned his attention to the curator. "Mr. Arkesh, you clearly have no idea what you are involved with. There is no need for violence; I'm willing to pay you if you help us." With an almost imperceptible nod to Siobhan, he made to go for the bag.
At the mention of money, Arkesh's eyes lit up greedily and his grip on Siobhan loosened. She took advantage of this by bringing her heel down on his instep and thrusting an elbow into his midsection before dropping to the ground.
Arkesh was disoriented but he still managed to arc the knife in her direction. He grinned savagely when he felt flesh give way beneath his blade. His triumph was short-lived, however.
Jack delivered an open palm to the man's nose, breaking it instantly. This was followed by a vicious jab and in the next moment he'd slammed an elbow upward into the Arab's chin. Jack tripped Arkesh backward and hit the back of his head as he landed.
Jack checked for a pulse, "He's just unconscious. Come on." He held out a hand to help Siobhan up. "There's a safehouse about 20 miles from here. We need to get there and request immediate extraction. Are you ok?"
Siobhan nodded, saying nothing about her injury. She didn't think it was serious; besides, Jack was right. They needed to get away before anyone discovered what they'd done.
Fifteen minutes later, they had made it to the safehouse and Jack had used the sat phone to request extraction. He had been told that it would be at lead 12 hours before the CIA could get to them. In the meantime, he and Siobhan were supposed to 'sit tight.'
Jack walked back to the bedroom and saw Siobhan going through their bags. "What are you . . . You're bleeding, Siobhan," he changed direction mid-sentence. "Why didn't you say something?"
"It's just a scratch."
"No, it's not. Take off your shirt." Jack found the first aid kit and dragged a footstool next to the bed. He took some alcohol swabs and cleaned the now oozing wound. It was about two inches long and fairly shallow. Nonetheless, Jack was taking no chances. He dug around the kit again, finding the needle and thread. "Shit!" he swore softly.
"What?"
"You need stitches, but there's no anesthetic."
"You can do it?"
"Yes."
"How many?" she asked, turning to look at him.
"Ten."
Siobhan thought a moment, then said, "Go ahead."
Jack searched her eyes, then went to work. She sucked in a breath as the needle went in the first time, but didn't move. Jack rested his free hand on her bare shoulder. As he sewed, he rubbed his thumb back and forth in an unconscious attempt to comfort her.
At last, he placed a bandage over the now sutured cut and put both hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," she answered, shakily, not looking at him.
"Siobhan," he sat down in front of her, not surprised to see tears streaming down her face. "It's all done. You did great!" He wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Without thinking, Siobhan put her arms around Jack, sobbing into his shoulder. The adrenaline had finally worn off and she was both physically and d emotionally exhausted. For a second, Jack didn't know what to do. Then he returned her embrace, murmuring nonsense words to soothe her.
When her crying subsided, Siobhan pulled away, saying, "You must think I'm a complete ass."
"Not at all. I don't know how many people who could have taken 10 stitches without . . ."
She cut him off, "That's not why, well it was part of it. Jack, that man at the museum . . . he threatened to do things to me, to you . . . I was afraid for you . . . I tried to stop him . . ."
"Look at me, Siobhan. Men like that know how to play on your fears. I didn't think that he was involved with Sharif's operation; I had I would not have had you bother with trying to distract him. I'd've grabbed the damn weapon and gotten us the hell out of there."
"Thank you for saving me."
"You didn't need saving. You did a pretty good job taking him out on your own. The only thing you needed was back up; if you hadn't watched for a signal from me, we would very likely be Sharif's prisoners by now."
They were both quiet for a moment. Jack suddenly became very aware of Siobhan's state of undress. Looking at her, his breath caught in his chest. Despite her disheveled appearance, the red eyes, and messy hair, Jack found her irresistibly beautiful.
Without conscious thought, Jack leaned over to place a gentle kiss on her lips. Siobhan closed her eyes and let him guide her actions. She put a hand on his cheek and nothing more.
Jack was unaware of when his hand slipped down to caress her breast until he heard Siobhan make a surprised noise in the back of her throat. Quickly he pulled away, breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . ." He stood up, backing away, "I shouldn't have . . . I'm so sorry . . . I can't."
"Why the hell not?" The psychologist in her knew why and knew that she shouldn't be so hostile. But the woman in her was angry and hurt. "I assume you enjoy my company? Find me attractive?"
He looked like a deer caught in headlights. Silence filled the room until he admitted softly, "Yes."
"The what is wrong with you kissing me?"
To Jack's immense relief, the sat phone rang at that precise moment. He went to the living room to take the call. Left alone, Siobhan threw their things back in the bags, furiously.
Not waiting for Jack to return, Siobhan went into the bathroom to shower. A few minutes later, he came back to tell her that the extraction had been delayed another three hours, only to find the room empty.
Rather than wait for her to finish, Jack returned to the living room and lay down on the couch. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. He knew he had made a mistake in kissing Siobhan.
He hadn't meant to fondle her breast, either. It was only when he'd felt her nipple harden that he'd realized what he was doing. Jack didn't want to treat Siobhan like the women he'd picked up in bars over the years; no commitment, no feelings, just sex. For the first time in 25 years, he wanted more than that. And he was pretty sure that he had just screwed it up with Siobhan.
He tried to even out his breathing when he heard her come into the room. He simply didn't know what to say to her.
"Jack? Are you awake?"
He kept his eyes shut and didn't respond.
"We need to talk, Jack . . . Please?"
He remained still, wanting to talk to her, but afraid of what he might reveal. Finally, when he heard her sigh and head back to the bedroom, he muttered a soft apology and rolled over.
