Jonas walked in with the Colonel and the rest of the team to the hospital.
"We're here to see Elizabeth Woods," said the Colonel to the nurse.
"One minute," she looked at the computer screen. "Room 292."
"Thank you," said Jonas.
"Mack's not even in the system. He does not exist," reminded the Colonel. "But Liz's plane was sabotaged by known anti-American terrorists on her way back from visiting a friend in Sweden, girl named Kirsten Peters."
"Understood, sir," said Jonas.
"If the nurses ask, we're her security detail, understood," said the Colonel.
"Yes, sir," said the team.
"Good," he said, opening the door.
Liz was helping Mack on with his shirt. "You still don't knock do you, Uncle Tom," she said, shaking her head. She helped Mack on with his army jacket. She handed him his leather gloves and then walked out with him till they reached the door.
"Be my body guard," she said, giving him a wink and taking the Colonel's arm.
"Ms. Woods!" yelled a reporter.
"Yes."
"Is it true your plane was sabotaged on your way home, and you had to make an emergency landing?"
"Yes," she said.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Woods is still too weak for questioning," said the Colonel. "Men!"
The team formed a circle around the two shielding them from the reporters.
Liz sat next to Mack on the plane.
"I can't do this," she whispered.
He held her hand. "I would never let you do anything I did not think was safe. Trust me. Bob's flying there's no one better than him."
Liz nodded. "I just," she felt her breathing slow.
"Hey, hey breathe."
She pierced her eyes shut as she saw her mom wave to the media and then she saw her face as the plane went down. She felt her screams her hands clawing the windows before the plane exploded. "NO, no."
"Liz, Liz!" called Mack. "You are safe." He held her in his arms. "Trust me. I'll land this plane on a mountain before I'll let you die. I promise. You can do this."
She nodded, closing her eyes trying to focus on Mack's heart beat.
The Colonel walked over to Mack when the plane was in the air, and Liz was sound asleep. "She all right?"
"She keeps seeing her mom's death," said Mack.
"I know. Hypnotists, shrinks, none of them can erase that image from her brain. She saw the clips from the media, but I swear she sees more than that; she sees everything."
"She'll never forget, even if she created the memories."
The Colonel nodded. "Let me know if you need any help keeping her calm."
"Yes sir."
When the plane landed, Mack shook her gently. She looked at him confused. "Are we there?"
"Good ol' US of A," he said, smirking.
"I'll be right back." She walked into the bathroom pulling on her red scarf and then her white peacoat. She had on her navy blue dress slacks, carefully she smoothed them out. Looking into the mirror as she put on her new jewelry she sighed. "And then the lipgloss," she said, brightening her lips to a glossy reddish pink. "American Princess," she said, thinking of Mikhail's words. She walked out and watched as Mack leaned against the wall. He looked exhausted. She walked over to him and touched his face. He smiled at her pulling her into him.
He let out a sigh. "Ready?" he asked.
She nodded. "Be ready for the military press."
He grimaced. "Why do you have to be so damn wonderful," he said, kissing her. "If you were awkward and ugly, then these guys wouldn't give you a second glance."
She kissed him back. "Because someone has to have social skills in this relationship," she said.
He shook his head. "You're probably right. Let's go."
"You can run out the back if you want," she said.
"Nah, you're worth it."
She smiled. "Thanks." She walked down the steps and was greeted by a swarm of reporters. Looking back quickly at Mack, who now had his sunglasses on, she gave the reporters a warm smile. Mack was a respective few steps behind her, scanning the crowd.
"Ms. Woods," screamed the reporters, barraging her with questions.
"I'll answer you questions at the conference at six o'clock, but I need to get through customs first. Thank you," she said.
She pushed through the crowd and Mack tried not to limp as the cameras flashed. They went through Logan customs, Liz joking with the custom's official. He let them through with little trouble.
"Mack, plane's ready," said the Colonel, greeting them on the other side.
"I can't go," said Liz, looking at the clock. "I have that conference in two hours."
"Blow it off," said the Colonel.
"Uncle Tom," she said, sighing. "Breaking promises isn't exactly good for one's public image."
"Ehh, you'll smile and flirt it off," teased Mack.
"I can tell them you're too tired," added the Colonel. His cell phone rang and he walked away to take the call.
"No, no I'll do it. I'll find a plane and fly home later."
"Just be home in time for the party because I don't want to have to deal with my wife if you aren't," said Jonas, pulling his bag over his shoulder.
"I won't. Come hell or high water I'll be home." She turned to Mack. "Go home, get some sleep," she said.
"What I'm fired?" joked Mack.
"Relieved of duty," she said with a smile.
"What's going on here?" asked the Colonel.
"Sir, request permission to stay with Ms. Woods," said Mack.
The Colonel raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Don't make me regret that," said the Colonel.
"No, sir," said Mack.
Liz hugged Bob. "Tell the girls we'll be home soon."
"Will do," said Bob.
"Make sure he rests," said Hector, giving Liz a hug.
"I'll try," she said. "We'll just be a few hours behind you guys."
"Be good, sweetheart," said the Colonel, placing a kiss on her forehead.
She kissed his cheek. "Don't you dare look at the gift I got you," she said.
He laughed. "I all ready unwrapped it while you were gone," he said, walking away. "I'll tell your grandfather you'll be home for breakfast."
She waved goodbye and then walked over to Mack who was getting their bags. She took her carry on from him.
"Thanks," she said.
"Ms. Woods," called an energetic man in a business suit. "I'm Carl Newark, I'll show you to the conference room."
Mack stepped in front of Liz. "Do you have credentials?" he asked.
Mack's tone was sharp, and Liz saw Carl get flustered as he pulled the lanyard from under his coat. Mack took it off him and studied it.
Liz sick of the male testosterone overload stepped in front of Mack, extending her hand. "Nice to meet you Mr. Newark."
"The pleasure is mine," he said, shaking her hand. "May I show you upstairs?"
"Yes, thank you." She gave Mack a look. "Play nice."
Mack scanned the area. "It was too easy," he said, as they walked over to the escalators.
"What was?" she asked.
"The whole escape from Russia. You warned me if it was too easy than I was missing something."
"Yea, it seemed easy because you were the one getting rescued."
"I don't like it," he said, eyeing the area.
"Mack, please everything's fine now."
Mack looked at the scared expression on her face. "Hey, hey," he said, stopping her and stroking her cheeks as he cupped her face. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"It's almost Christmas; just relax, all right?"
He smiled. "I'll relax when we've got our four feet on Fort Griffith turf."
She stood on her tip toes and whispered into his ear, "I put plenty of mistletoe around the house."
"I plan to make good use of that," he said.
"Ms. Woods," said Carl, holding the door open for her.
"Thank you."
"The door there leads to the conference room where the interviews will be held." She nodded. "Do you need anything?"
"Where can I get a cup of coffee?"
"I'll get it for you. How would you like it?"
"No, no, it's all right. I just thought if there was somewhere close."
"It's an airport, there's one of everything. It's not a problem."
"French vanilla skim milk and one sugar?" she asked.
"And you, sir?"
"Black," said Mack.
Liz crinkled her nose. "Why don't you just drink tar?" she asked, as Carl left in a hurry.
"Simple is impossible to mess up. Ten bucks says your coffee is everything but drinkable."
She glared at him. "I happen to have faith in our new friend, Mr. Newark." She sat down and dusted her face with translucent powder then redoing the rest of her makeup. She put on a pale pinkish gold lipstick.
"You look beautiful, relax," said Mack, playing with a lock of her hair.
"Thank you. I just feel so tired," she said, leaning against him.
"I can still call off those reporters."
"I need to keep up our cover story," she said, taking a deep breath.
"Sorry, I wasn't really sure which brand you liked," said Carl barging in with six cups of coffee. "So I went to all the coffee shops."
"Mr. Newark, you can relax. I'm not a celebrity. I'm just your girl next door who got some foreign spotlight."
He let out a sigh. "It's my first day," he said.
She smiled. "You're doing fine. And thank you," she took one of the coffee cups and sipped it.
Mack watched her expression and smirked. "Are the reporter's there yet?"
"No, sir."
"Let's go inspect the room."
"Yes, sir."
Mack suppressed a groan, "Just walk."
Liz tried all three different coffees and found one that was tolerable. She handed Mack his cup when he got back. "All clear, Sergeant?"
"As far as I can see."
"Good, drink up and let's go. We don't have all day, soldier."
Mack shook his head and drank the coffee, watching the reporters file in on the television screen. "Let's go. They're ready."
Liz took a deep breath and walked in as Mack opened the door. She smiled as all the cameras flashed and she saw the video cameras. She walked over to the podium and stood until the crowd was quiet.
"Good afternoon. How are we all doing?" she asked. She saw them smile as they were poised to take down notes. She reiterated their cover story and then addressed the onslaught of questions. After an hour, Mack stepped up next to her to tell her it was time to go. "As much as I'd love to spend the holidays with all of you and answer all your questions, I promised to be home for Christmas. Thank you all for your patience and have a nice holiday." She turned away, giving one final wave before she disappeared behind the door. "When's the plane going to leave?"
"It's been delayed by three hours," said Carl.
"All right, do you want to get dinner?" she asked Mack.
"Yea at home."
Liz shook her head. "Well, we have three hours here so why don't we just make the best of it." Mack sighed and surveyed the airport again.
"Alright."
Carl escorted them to the restaurant having them seated right away. Mack drank his beer, sighing.
"See you were worried about nothing," she said.
"Better safe than sorry." Then his phone rang. "Gerhardt." He groaned. "Yes sir." There was a long pause and then he said, "Will do."
Liz set her wine glass down. "What's wrong?"
"Security breach, the Colonel just wants me to check it out." He stood up.
"I'm coming with you," she said.
"No. Here, pay the bill," he said, handing her his credit card. "And I'll be right back."
She shook her head. "Mr. Newark picked up the bill. I'm coming with you."
He sighed. "Come on," he said, pushing through the crowded airport."
Liz ran after him trying to keep up, and he met a military guard at the entrance of the commercial transport center.
"Give her your sidearm," he said to the guard. The guard hesitated. "That wasn't a question," said Mack.
The guard handed Liz his side arm. "Thank you," she said.
"Stay here and don't let anyone in," said Mack to Liz. He motioned to the guard. "Come on Private."
Mack walked into the room and saw five men loading a truck. He motioned to the Private to get the MPs, who were tied up along the side with some kind of explosive and then he climbed up onto the top of one the large containers. The guards noticed the Private and one of them went to shoot him but Mack took him out and then the other four. He climbed down and ran over to the MPs, diffusing the bomb.
"Too simple, too damn simple," he said, running over to the truck checking it for explosives. It was clean. He put his boot into the wound of one of the dying terrorists. "Who do you work for!" he screamed.
He just smirked. "A ghost."
Mack looked at him confused and then he thought of Liz. He ran towards the door, slamming it open.
He saw Liz kicking her assailant as he dragged her away through a back door. Quickly he sprinted after her he saw her wriggle free from the assailant's grasp.
"Mack!" she screamed and then the assailant jabbed her in the neck with a syringe. She went limp and was thrown in the back of a van. The van was swerving erratically making it impossible for him to shoot out the tires.
"Fuck," he screamed, climbing into an employee's truck quickly hotwiring it and following her.
He didn't want to spook them so as soon as he caught sight of them he backed off. Quickly he dialed Jonas' number. "Jonas, I need you to do me a favor, but the Colonel can't know." He sighed. "Yea, I need you to get the GPS on Liz's cell up. Call me when you have the location." He ran his hands over his face. "It was too fucking easy." Mack put his phone on speakerphone and Jonas called back just as they were getting on the highway.
"All right, so I got a trace on her GPS and what's the license plate number on the vehicle?" asked Jonas.
"23 Alpha Romeo 98."
"It's registered to a Frank Bratt. Local address is 5 Orchard Hill, Monson, MA."
"He wouldn't take her there."
"Who wouldn't?"
"Matt wouldn't," said Mack.
"Well then you're just going to have to follow them. I'll send a team out to the house and have 'em check it out."
"Keep me updated." He hit the end button and sighed. "If we are going to Monson we got a long ass ride ahead of us." He looked on his phone at the directions that Jonas had sent him. It was a two hour drive. It was starting to snow, and he switched the truck into four wheel drive. As the snow thickened, he started to worry more. If they got spooked and started to run they could spin off the road easily and kill everyone including Liz. He never should have left her alone. He saw the sign for Monson two miles. "What was I fucking thinking?" He felt his cell phone vibrate and picked it up. "Gerhardt."
"Mack," whispered Liz.
He looked at the cell number, but it wasn't hers. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, but these guys they're little boys with lethal guns. Its like they're playing cops and robbers."
"They're Matt's aren't they?"
"Yea, but I don't think they know Matt's dead."
"I have a team checking out their local address right now."
"No!" she whispered. "It's got to be rigged some how. They're not taking me there."
"Where are you?"
"In the back, they're all drinking and singing."
"I can hear the singing," said Mack, smirking. "So I should pull off the team?"
"Yes. I can't talk anymore. Send me text messages, all right?"
"All right. We'll be home for Christmas I promise," he said, praying he wasn't making an empty promise.
"I know." The line went dead after that.
Mack called up Jonas. "Hey pull that team off. The place is a set up." Mack explained to him what Liz had said.
"How the hell did she get a phone?"
"Ask Hector she got his gun away from him without him even noticing," said Mack.
Jonas laughed. "I called off the team, but they say they're still going in but they're treating the whole house and curtilage like a bomb. Did Liz say anything else?"
"No, but I felt like she wasn't telling me something."
"Still wants you to read through the lines when you're saving her life, typical woman," said Bob.
Mack laughed. "When the hell did you get here?"
"We're all here, except the Colonel. What do you need?" asked Hector.
Mack thought for a moment. "Did they find Matt's body in the explosion? Betty Blue, hack into the Russian server and find out everything you can about that explosion."
"You think he survived?"
"I hope not but who the hell knows with that bastard," said Mack.
"You shouldn't go in alone," said Bob.
"You need to keep the Colonel and the Admiral in the dark. If they know anyone's gone they'll become suspicious."
"They're on the way to airport right now, when you don't show they're going to be suspicious," said Hector.
"Have Molly call them and say that Liz and I decided to," Mack paused "do a little Christmas shopping instead of trying to fight the weather," said Mack.
"Top is calling her," said Bob. "What else do you need?"
"One minute," said Mack as he got a text message from Liz. 'Leader is called Brent hates the Admiral.' "Cool Breeze, research a man named Brent who might have been on the Admiral's staff."
"Possible suspect?" asked Bob.
Mack could hear him typing. "Probable."
"I have a possible match. It says here that he was fired from the Admiral's staff, apparently he was convicted of some harassment charges because he was stalking the Admiral."
"Is there a psych evaluation?" asked Mack.
"Hammerhead's on it," said Bob.
"What's his full name?"
"Petty Officer Second Class, John Brent Haywood," said Bob.
Mack texted Liz back, 'PO2 John Brent Haywood, stalked the Admiral. Do u kno him?'
'Used to be called JB, His dad served w/ my grandpa in Nam. Grandpa was his CO. His dad died. Grandpa took him onto his staff in respect to JB's dad. Turned bad, JB had a vendetta.'"
'What happened.'
'Stalked our house until grandpa had him removed from his staff. Restraining order, then arrest, then brig time.'
'Talking w/ Top. Give us a min.'
'OK.'
"She says he used to go by the name of JB and his dad served with the Admiral in Vietnam. Out of respect to JB's dad the Admiral took him onto his staff. Apparently JB's dad died and he had a vendetta against the Admiral. How long was he in the brig?"
"Looks like he was going to get out but then beat up a soldier while he was in there. He got out three months back," said Bob.
"See who visited him before he got out."
"Killington," said Bob.
Mack slammed his fist against the steering wheel. "I knew it. Betty Blue is this guy fucking dead or not?"
"I'm hacking as fast as I can. I'm almost there."
He typed into his phone, 'IV and JB had contact.'
"Got it, there's no record of any of his remains being found, but the investigation is still going on," said Grey.
"I want Haywood's phone records. I want to know who everyone in the vicinity of his house has been fucking calling for the past two weeks." He got a text message from Liz. 'Are you yelling yet? Don't. I'm all right.' He laughed amazed at how well she knew his temper. "Sorry, I just can't lose her."
"I know," said Bob.
"Credit cards," said Mack. "Where's he been using his credit cards. Active bank accounts, transfers."
"All ready on it," said Hector.
"All right so from what I can tell from his calls and satellite images is that he's been calling a cabin in the woods in the town near Monson, named Brookfield. I'm sending you the directions now," said Bob.
Mack sighed. "This isn't going to work. We have to make him think I'm not a threat. Make him underestimate me."
"How?" asked Jonas.
"Reverse the tables," he whispered. "Make him think I'm dead," he smiled surveying the roads. "How confident are you that he's going to this place in Brookfield?"
"Seventy percent," said Bob.
"Wish me luck," said Mack, speeding up and reaching out his window to shoot at the tires of the van just to get their attention. Within seconds he heard bullets crashing through the windshield. He moved into the bed of the truck and swore as he saw a grenade land in the front seat. He dove over the side as the truck exploded.
A/N Please Review!