Chapter Seven

Mac knew what she was going to say.

Maybe not exactly. But he'd known from the pain and worry in her dark eyes that someone was gone. He was pretty sure he knew who, but not sure enough to move back from the edge of reacting, or to leap over it and reveal what he was thinking just yet.

She wouldn't deliver the news until they were in the air and based on how she was looking at him, if he hadn't gotten a text from Bozer asking if he was going to be around over the weekend, and seen Riley at the back of the jet typing away on her keyboard, he'd have been near to panic by the time she was ready to talk.

Matty sat on the sofa across from her two agents. "I …"

She stopped, looking back and forth between them. "Matty, What is it?" Jack leaned forward in his seat.

"It's …" she tried again.

Mac's head dropped so he could stare at his shoes. "It's Cage. They got to her before you could."

"What? How did you ..?"

Mac swallowed hard as she confirmed his suspicion. Then he opened his mouth to answer her and found he couldn't speak past the lump in his throat. The sense of hopeless certainty that another life had been snuffed out by simple association to him felt like a boulder on his chest.

"I didn't. But it was a pretty good bet that after you saw the Amanda Kelly file you were going to call her. She was your friend." He paused for a minute, looking down at the backs of his hands. Finally his pained blue eyes met Matty's. "I'm so sorry, Matty."

Her chin had been on the verge of quivering but now it firmed. "Don't you dare do that to yourself, Mac."

"What?"

"Take this on yourself, like it's your fault. This is happening to you not because of you."

He sighed. "Still, I'm sorry."

They were all quiet then. After a few moments where the only sound was Riley's clicking keys, Jack spoke softly. "Sonofabitch."

Muc turned his head to take in Jack's frown. "What is it?"

Jack cleared his throat. "Well, we came to Switzerland to talk to that doc and Nikki was here at exactly the same time to off him …"

"What?!" Matty practically shouted.

Mac held up a hand for patience. "We'll get to that. Go on, Jack."

"Then Matty contacts Cage and BAM, they get her too. Right on time."

"You think they're tracking us somehow, have an eye on our movements." Mac's voice was hollow, his eyes starting to take on the slow fire that spoke of true anger.

Jack leaned back on the couch looking more tired than anything else. "I think they must be."

"But how?" Matty asked, frowning. "We cleaned house after the siege on Phoenix and again when …"

"When Oversight dropped off the map," Mac finished for her. "How sure are you that everything was swept, digitally I mean?"

"Well, Riley…"

Riley piped up from the back, "I did everything I could do," she said defensively, but then she sighed. "But they were good. And Oversight … i mean, he was part of designing the system. I could be missing something."

Mac's elbows found his knees, then his head found his hands. "It can't be a coincidence that Walsh got into the system when Murdoc escaped and the Organization almost took us all out." He took a ragged breath. "That had to be a coordinated effort. Walsh was working for or with the Organization."

"Christ," Jack murmured, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. "You're right. You must be."

"And my father had a clone of Riley's description device … and Walsh didn't ambush us until after I'd had a chance to see … it was almost like it was timed perfectly. Scripted."

Matty realized Mac was shaking, ever so slightly. She sat down on the couch next to him. "You think your father let them in to Phoenix somehow, that he was working with Walsh to get the KX7 files out of Phoenix and the drug into active production again."

Mac's silence and carefully controlled breathing was as good as a yes. He chewed his lip for a while. No one seemed to know what to say. He got to his feet and started pacing the length of the jet.

Jack's eyes followed him for a while. "We could try questioning Tennant again," he said thoughtfully. "But, you know, maybe less politely than last time."

Matty frowned. "Questioned him personally. I had Cage question him." She swallowed hard. "She was the best there was. Neither of us got anything."

Jack's expression had evolved into a sharp disquieting smile. "We could move him to a black site. Get a little more creative in our methods."

Mac stopped pacing and dropped onto the couch next to Jack like suddenly his own weight was just too much to bear. "It might be worth thinking about. But …"

"But?" Matty prompted.

"But," Mac began, then stopped, sighed, and tried again. "We all know there's someone involved who'd delight in explaining how he and his co-conspirators got one over on me."

"Mac, we've been trying to bring Murdoc back in for months," Matty began.

Mac nodded. "But," he began again.

"But what?" she prompted a second time.

This time Jack interrupted. "But he's got a terrible idea and we're not gonna like it?"

Mac forced a small smile. "Pretty much."

"I don't like this, man."

"You? I'm shocked," Mac answered with an affectionate roll of his eyes.

Over the comms, Riley added, "Seriously, Jack, you've said it so much in the last hour, you'd think I told you about the ring …"

"Ring! What ring?"

Mac and Riley both started laughing. Mac patted Jack on the shoulder, "I'm guessing the imaginary one she knew would get that reaction. But that's maybe just me."

"Riley?!" Jack demanded, distracted from his worry about this mission by his protective streak that was reserved for Riley.

Mac grinned as her laughter rippled over the coms. "Alright, Old Man. There's no ring … Yet."

"One of these day," Jack complained. "You two are gonna be the death of me."

"Or maybe you'll go bald instead of just grey," Riley supplied helpfully.

"You know what," Jack began.

Mac interrupted. "There he is."

His hand was on the door handle almost before he finished speaking.

"Hold your horses, kid," Jack said, putting a hand on his over eager partner's shoulder. Mac stopped, but remained poised to move. "Ri?" Jack prompted.

"I'm not picking up any surveillance signals. Just the cell phone chatter you'd expect."

Mac raised an eyebrow at Jack. Jack removed the restraining hand from Mac's shoulder. "I'll be right behind you, kid."

Over the comms, Matty agreed, "We have your back."

Mac stepped out of the car in the cool misting rain of a busy Parisian evening. He slipped his hands in his pockets strode across the street with a confidence that, at one point in his life, he'd never have believed himself capable. That tentative young man from MIT who was too shy, to damaged, to even ask Frankie out for coffee unless they were talking over schoolwork with a group, was a world away from who he'd become.

He heard Jack's car door a few moments later, just as he stepped onto the sidewalk. A doorman opened the door for him. "Bonsoir, monsieur."

Mac nodded politely.

A young woman in crisp black pants and a startlingly white shirt asked, "Avez-vous une réservation?"

Mac shook his head. "Je rencontre un ami."

"Oui, tres bien." She gestured toward the dining room with a little bow.

Mac smiled and nodded his thanks. He loved Paris. Someday, maybe, he'd get to come here and just enjoy the city. But not today.

He skirted around the back of a chair as its occupant was finishing a phone call. "I'll be home soon. Daddy is meeting someone for work. You be good for Lissette and I'll bring you some dessert."

It was so disconcerting to hear that warmth in that voice. Mac fixed his game face firmly in place and sat down at the table across from one of the only people on earth who'd ever actually frightened him. The shark's eyes settled on his face with mild surprise and … pleasure. He was glad it was Mac. Mac suppressed a shudder. "Evening, Murdoc," he said levelly.

"Well, well, we'll, fancy meeting you here," Murdoc said, his expression one of slippery innocence. "I'd buy you a drink, but I'm meeting a client."

Mac felt one corner of his mouth quirk up even though he hadn't intended it. "Do you buy your clients drinks?"

"Why, yes, I do. I like to show off a bit wining and dining them. A lot of money changes hands. It seems like good manners, don't you think?"

Mac nodded, agreeable. "I'll have the '99 Chateau Ausone. A bottle."

Murdoc's eyes widened. "That's an excellent choice, dear boy, but why would I buy you a $700 bottle of wine? Unless you've finally decided to go rogue and join the dark side." He laughed at the very idea, much as the idea also very much intrigued him. "I'd go a bottle of '59 Dom for that."

"No, but I am the one who contacted you. Or rather Alan Green is."

Mac took out the passport and slid it across the table. In the photo Mac's hair was darker, he was wearing glasses, and there was no trace of his highly recognizable signature smile, but Murdoc couldn't believe Alfonse hadn't seen the resemblance when he'd done the research and made the appointment.

"I need to hire new help," Murdoc observed drily. "Honestly, these days, you just can't get the staff."

He returned Mac's papers to him. Mac tucked the document back into his jacket as Murdoc flagged a server and, to Mac's surprise, ordered the wine he'd mentioned along with two glasses.

"So, you've found me once again. But from the look in those big blue eyes I get the feeling this isn't our usual game of cat and mouse. To what do I owe the pleasure? Although I feel it's pertinent to say that Cassian is quite safe, so you and your guard dogs can't use that as a lever this time, and without him, I've simply no motivation to give you or Phoenix so much as the time of day."

Mac felt himself smile again, but he knew it didn't reach his eyes, knew his face had taken on hard deadly lines by the way Murdoc was looking at him. "Oh, I think you're going to want to talk this time."

"Oh really?" he asked casually, pausing to taste and approve of the wine the sommelier had just delivered. When he nodded, the man who'd brought it to their table poured for both of them, then disappeared like he'd never existed.

Mac took a sip of the exceptionally fine wine. He supposed he had Nikki to thank for his appreciation of wine. His jaw tightened a little when he thought of the other things he had to thank her for. A twinge in the scar from Lake Como that was almost certainly psychosomatic refocused him. "Absolutely. It something you always want to talk about."

Murdoc took another sip of wine. "Do go on," he said, gesturing gracefully with his long fingers that never looked entirely human to Mac.

"I want to talk to you about my father."

Both eyebrows climbed. "Do you? Well, that is something I've been interested in speaking to you about for quite some time."

"Good. I want to know what you know about the KX Project."

Murdoc smiled and if Mac didn't know that Jack was nearby, that Matty had a tac-team only moments away, he would have pushed back from the table. As it was, it felt like he'd swallowed a block of ice.

"In that case, young Angus, you are going to want something stronger to drink."

Murdoc gestured for the server.