A/N: Well, here is Chapter 36! Thank you for all the kind reviews—they keep me going. Please forgive me, I'm really not great with the "intrigue" aspect of stories, so if anything seems farfetched or just plain dumb, please be kind!
Delicate
Chapter 36: Crashing Down
1418 Local
Burnett Residence
La Jolla, CA
The figure on the other side of the door pitched forward just a little as the door swung away from him; he had obviously been preparing to knock again. He recovered quickly, however, as a grateful Mac tumbled into his arms. He gave her a quick hug and set her back on her feet. "Are you okay, Sarah?"
"I'm better now, Clay."
Webb narrowed his eyes at her. Mac noticed his stare and answered it with a firm, "I'm fine." Clay nodded, but as he gazed pointedly at her shaking hands, it was clear he didn't buy it.
"You know, don't you." It was a statement, not a question.
Mac nodded. "Sadik."
"Yeah, Sadik." A dark shadow fell across the CIA agent's eyes. "He's been in the US for at least six weeks."
"Six weeks?!" Mac was incredulous. And furious. "And you didn't think to tell me? Every time I called for an update…he was in Spain, Belgium, South America…everywhere but here. How could you lie to me about this?"
"Sarah. Sarah!" Clay reached out and gripped her shoulders. She immediately wrenched away from him. "I didn't know! They fed me a whole line of BS. Sadik's planning something big…they've known that for a while, but…" At that he looked down at his feet, his shoulders slumping. He looked…guilty.
"But what, Clay?" She forced herself to remain calm, or at least give the appearance of it. In reality, she wanted to hit something, someone, try to work off the nervous energy born from fear for her life, for Harm's. Clay was near…the obvious choice.
Clay still didn't look up, and if anything, he sank further into himself. It was Mac's turn to clench her fists around his shoulders. "Dammit, Clay, what?!"
"He's after you, Sarah. He's obsessed…he wants—"
"Revenge," interrupted Mac, her voice low and laced with barely suppressed fury.
"No, Mac…he just wants you." Mac's eyes widened at that revelation and her hands loosened from Clay's arms, her mind going a million miles a minute. Sadik wanted her. For what, if not revenge? Did he want her like Koster had? That couldn't be it. Simple stalking because of a crazed notion that he was in love with her did not fit everything she knew about her tormentor. It had to be more.
Clay had turned from her and was motioning to three darkly clad men coming up the walk. Mac was surprised. Rarely did it seem to her that a CIA agent worked with more than one visible partner. She stepped down to him, reaching out to touch his arm, her touch gentler this time. "How do you know that? How did you find out if they were just feeding you lies?"
"Catherine Gale."
"Harm's wife?" It irked Mac that she felt the sting of jealousy as she said that. It wasn't as if Harm had actually married the other woman.
Clay picked up on Mac's tone and smirked at her. "The same."
"But how did—"
"Sarah, how is not important right now. We need to secure this place and get you to safety. Then we—"
The events of the past hour assaulted her mind and she was once again in the moment. "Clay, he killed Martha—the housekeeper. Left her in the pantry." Clay nodded. He motioned to a stocky blond man with thinning hair. "Mercer, we have a body…pantry."
The other man acknowledged that with a brief nod. He was about to turn away when Mac spoke again.
"Clay…Trish, Frank…Harm's parents…we need to—"
"Already on it. They're in protective custody."
Thank god. "Do they know anything?" Guilt coursed through her. She had brought this on them, just like Martha…like Harm. Oh my god…Harm!
Without waiting for Clay to answer her earlier question, Mac gave voice to her fears about her sailor. "Clay…Harm was supposed to be back from the Henry today. He hasn't answered any of my calls. The admiral was going over to his apartment to check on him, but I haven't heard back yet. I think Sadik has already—" She choked on the words. "He's already ki—hurt him."
Clay put his arm around her and led her to a wooden and wrought iron patio chair. "Sit, Sarah. I'll get someone on it."
Mac nodded, inwardly thinking as Clay pulled out his cell that the agent should have had someone on Harm's six already. Clay finished his call and sat down next to her. "Okay, tell me what's all happened here."
Mac had her head down, fingers massaging her temples. Her head hurt, and she was in the middle of another wave of nausea. She was dimly aware that Clay was speaking to her, but it took all she had to push back the nausea and impending retching. Slowly it passed, and she finally raised her head to face Clay's concerned gaze.
"Sarah, are you alright?"
Mac shrugged. "I've had headaches, nausea, dizziness these last few days, thrown up a few times. It's been getting a little better…"
"Doesn't look like it."
"Well, right now it doesn't feel like it either." She dropped her face into her hands again. Dammit, she needed to be well! At least the fresh air here outside felt good.
Mac sat in silence for another moment, trying to collect herself. She heard one of Clay's team open the front door to enter the house and suddenly she remembered. Ignoring a swirl of dizziness, she looked up in a panic. "Clay…the terrace. He's done something out there. I don't know what, but don't let them go out there."
Thankfully, Clay didn't question her. He stood up and radioed ahead to his man in the house. "We'll check it out," he said to her.
She could feel him watching her once he finished speaking in hushed tones to Agent Mercer. "What, Clay?"
"You've spoken to him, haven't you."
Mac closed her eyes and merely nodded. Just the memory of his voice sent chills up her spine and caused her to break out into a cold sweat.
"What did he say?"
Mac sat up straighter and opened her eyes again. Physically, she was starting feel a little better. It was a bit cool for this time of year in San Diego, but the cooler temperature and light breeze off the water was refreshing. She settled her gaze on Clay. "He admitted to killing Martha and just told me it was time to come home."
The vertical lines on Clay's forehead deepened as his expression turned to one of mild confusion.
"Home?"
"I assumed he meant D.C."
Clay paced in front of her a few times before he turned to face her, hands on his hips. "Well, intel seems to suggest that things are likely to go down there."
Mac raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you trust that, Clay?"
One side of his mouth drew up into a half-smile. "Yes…this time."
"Okay, then. Clay, I need to get back there. Sadik obviously has plans for me there—"
"A good reason to stay as far away from there as possible."
Mac rose out of her chair. "No, Clay. This ends now. One way or another, it stops. It stops. Even if he kills me, Mac thought to herself. Outloud, she said, "And I need to get to Harm. He's in danger. I know it." Maybe even dead. No. I would know if he were dead. I would know. Turning away from her dark thoughts, she reached for Clay's hand. "Clay, please. Get me on a plane to Washington."
She could see Clay searching her eyes for something. Finally, he gave a short nod and pulled out his cell again. He was about to dial when Agent Mercer and one of the other men came out of the house. This one was tall and thin with dark, nearly black hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His thick rimmed, brown, rectangular glasses were perched atop his hawk nose. The term "birth control glasses," or BCG's, flitted through her mind, and she had to bite back a giggle. It would have been the giggle of hysteria, anyway.
"What have you got, Dunson?" Clay asked as the agent handed him a piece of paper with some chicken scratch on it. They conversed quietly for a moment, then Clay turned back to Mac. "Hey, Mac?"
"Yeah?"
"Tell me again the symptoms you were having earlier?"
"Um, headache, nausea…dizziness. Some body aches…" She raised her eyebrows in question.
"Take a look at this, Sarah." He handed her the piece of paper. Not much made sense to her other than a couple of letters.
"CO? Carbon monoxide?"
"They measured elevated levels of carbon monoxide in your wing of the house."
"What? Surely the Burnetts have carbon monoxide detectors—"
"And they were clearly disabled."
"You think that's why I've been feeling this way?" The symptoms would certainly fit.
"In all likelihood. We should get you checked out at the hospital."
Mac didn't want any further delays in getting to Washington. "No, Clay, I feel fine now, and it isn't like I felt bad all the time." She honestly did feel much better. The levels of CO in the house couldn't have been all that high. She asked about it and Clay confirmed it. The levels were only around 80 ppm, just enough to cause symptoms and Mac believed the levels had to have been fluctuant. She had another thought:
"Why didn't anyone else have any issues? Frank and Trish never complained."
Clay shrugged. "It's a big house, depends on how the duct work/airflow is set up."
"I suppose." Mac looked down at Harm's watch that still graced her slender wrist. For the most part, her timing had returned to her, unless she was extremely stressed. The current situation certainly qualified as extreme stress, and her sense of foreboding regarding Harm was increasing with each passing second. She looked at the watch again. Admiral Chegwidden should have called her by now. She nervously paced back and forth across the veranda while Clay made several more calls.
A few minutes later, another vehicle lumbered up the long drive. It was unmarked, of course, the windows tinted, making it impossible to see who all was in it. In short order, three men and a female, all darkly clad, exited the SUV, immediately coming around to the back of it. One of them opened the hatch and they all started gathering duffle bags full of equipment while Clay moved forward and filled them in. Mac heard him mention the terrace, so she assumed this was the crew coming to deal with that. Whatever that was. She suspected explosives.
Mac pulled her cellphone out of her pocket. Maybe she'd missed a call from Harm or the admiral. Looking at the screen, her heart sank when she saw no missed calls. Clay finished speaking with the new arrivals and returned to her side. "Any word?" he asked, pulling out his phone and checking it as well.
She shook her head. Dammit, she should have heard something by now! Clay squeezed her shoulder in sympathy and entered a number into his phone. He walked a few steps away from her and soon she heard him speaking in muffled tones.
Mac couldn't take it anymore. She was growing impatient but worried that she hadn't heard from the admiral yet. She was already terrified for Harm, but now she was worried the admiral may have wandered into danger as well. She started to dial…only to jump as the phone rang in her hands. At last! She tried her best to calm her racing heart, took a few cleansing breaths, and answered. It was at that same moment that Clay hung up and slipped his phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. She watched his shoulders slump and his head was down as he turned back in her direction. Oh god, was it Harm?
Her voiced cracked as she greeted the admiral, "Ma-MacKenzie." From across the country Mac heard the slow exhale of air from the admiral's mouth. Her heart was up in her throat. Why was no one telling her anything?
"Colonel?" Admiral Chegwidden's voice was noticeably subdued.
"Yes, admiral?" Please, please, please don't let this be about Harm. Please…
The admiral didn't answer right away, and Mac felt the panic spread across her chest, up her arms, and down her legs. "Admiral?" She heard Admiral Chegwidden's intake of air, but just as he started to form a word, Clay looked up and his eyes met hers. They were so full of shell-shocked sympathy, and Mac's legs started to wobble.
"Sarah…" Clay's voice was a ragged whisper.
Tears silently spilled from her eyes and ran down her pale cheeks. "No…" she whimpered, her phone still at her ear. She was dimly aware of the admiral speaking to her, but his voice was overrun by a new roaring in her ears. The phone slipped from her grasp and there was a sharp crack as it hit the ground, while she was only slightly aware that Clay had grabbed her about her shoulders. He was speaking to her but the roaring in her ears was suddenly so loud that her hands rose to cover them. The world around her started to spin and she closed her eyes against it. But that didn't help, and soon the dizzying swirl pulled her down with it, her legs crumpling underneath her.
I'm so sorry, Harm.
End Chapter 36