Chapter 26 - No Wires

No wires.

That is what she told the boys. Listening devices of any type would be located easily no matter how inconspicuous they all were. It turns out that her beliefs were warranted as Webb's greeting wasn't kind. His first instinct was to slam her against his closed door as he none too gently searched for a wire.

"You're hurting me." Mac gasped out when the handle of his cane was pressed beneath her ribcage sucking the air out of her lungs. She expected to be searched but not this outright hostility from a man who once sought after her like a lovesick puppy. "Clay…please, you're…hurting…me."

She pushed back a little and although Mac could have likely swept his feet and pummeled him senseless, she needed to play her part - the roll of a victim. The tears she manifested were real but only because of the pain she was currently feeling and once Webb released her, the gasp was real too as was the limp slap of her hand against his cheek. "Why? Why would you do that to me?"

The malevolent way he was glaring at her dissipated and was replaced by that sappy look of concern that Clay usually sported around her. He shook his head, took a breath and then reached out for Mac, the hand not holding his cane being used to pull her close. "Oh Sarah…I'm so so sorry…I just don't know what got into me." He said lamely as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled Mac close in a tight embrace.

Moments later they sat on his couch, Clay nursing a glass of whiskey and Mac with mineral water before her. They were silent and as his eyes took her in, he spotted all of the little details. Her hair was unkempt, the clothes she wore were dirty and tattered. She looked the part of a woman that had escaped captivity especially given how she had scarfed down the sandwich he'd made her. "Where did he take you, Sarah?"

Mac swallowed down the food and took a sip from the glass bottle. She sighed, shook a little and only glanced up at Webb slightly. "His building. There is another apartment…" Trying to look like she was grieving wasn't particularly difficult given the situation and she had a particular story to tell, one that was carefully crafted by Harm and Will. "You were right, you know?"

"Oh?"

"You were right to claim that I loved him because, yeah, I still did. And maybe I still do." She scrubbed a hand over her face and sighed again. "But you were right about something else and I just didn' want to believe you."

Webb shifted and reached over and placed a hand on her forearm. "Tell me. You can tell me Sarah." The tenderness changed slightly, almost manic as he urged her to speak the truth that he already knew.

"You told me that Harm was a spy and I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't but… it's true." She took another swallow of water and pinched the bridge of her nose. "See when you said 'traitor,' I thought it was something else, not MI6."

"MI6? Who do you know that's in MI6?"

Mac nodded slowly. "Harm is involved with MI6, Clay. He has been for… God, I don't even know. They needed someone to steal information from the CIA. HIs death was faked so that he could move in the shadows and then, he must have lost it. The man who showed up at my apartment wasn't him. Harm was gone and replaced by a monster."

There was truth in what she said and it wasn't difficult to feel emotional about what transpired in her apartment several days ago. The look in Harm's eyes when he came to her, intent on murder, was not something Mac could easily forget. "He was sent after me, sent to kill me and if your men hadn't broken in when they did…"

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Sarah." He scooted and pulled Mac into his arms in an embrace meant to comfort. Clay dropped a kiss on the crown of her head and thankfully didn't notice the shiver. "Did he hurt you? Physically?"

"I think he would have but he was hurt, stabbed…it made it easier for me to escape." There was an urge to cringe that was overwhelming and she managed to hold it back when a hand ran slowly up and down her spine.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I didn't want to because I thought that I loved him, Clay and I thought that, with time it would be alright."

"Love makes us do stupid things, I know but, it's okay. It'll be alright just let me take care of you…You know I like to take care of you."

"I know you do. Thank you for being here." She kissed his cheek near the corner of his lips and noticed Webb's sharp intake of breath. "Thank you for everything."

"You're a special woman to me. Let me in, Sarah. Stop pushing me away. I can make you happy."

She leaned into his touch, the palm of his hand that pressed against her cheek, the lips that pressed gently against hers. Mac wanted to cry, to ram her knee into his groin and run into the waiting arms of the man she loved. For now, she was trapped in a prison that she willinging walked into.

They kissed twice more until feigned exhaustion had Webb setting her up in his bedroom where he claimed the bed was far more suitable. After a long shower and a change of clothes - his - Mac shut the lights, settled into bed and waited for silence. One hour passed, then a second and a third; nearly a fourth until Webb wound down for the night. She heard him walking around the apartment and quietly entering the guest bedroom next to hers before shutting off the lights and settling to sleep.

Finally! She thought while waiting for the silence to be broken by the sounds of Clay's snoring. From sharing a room in Paraguay she recalled how annoyingly loud the man could be and only then did she slide out of bed and quietly walked to the window.

The curtain was heavy, blocking out all of the exterior light. Mac pushed it open enough to point the beam of a small flashlight that she snuck into his apartment inside of a sock. Morse code wasn't her forte so they designed a simpler method of communicating.

Three long and slow flashes meant she was alright. Five fast ones meant she was in danger and intervention needed to be swift. Once her message was received, there was a light that flashed back that belonged to the two men sitting inside an SUV - Harm was one of those men.

'Goodnight, Flyboy.' She thought and then slipped into bed. Mac tried not to think about how comfortable Webb's bed felt or that she was lying in the very place she'd been avoiding for nearly two years.

"For a while I was afraid to leave you." Harm admitted quietly as they sat on the sofa, his arm draped over her shoulder. They had dinner at the hangar, a last supper of sorts before she'd run to Clay and hope for a quick turn around.

"When?"

"Everytime. Everytime I left on assignment." His voice shook and the breath he let out was heavy. The arm wrapped around Mac tightened. "When we broke up it was worse this…this fear that with me gone Webb would break you down."

"We've talked about this before. I'm not that easy and he isn't nor will he ever be my type."

"I know-"

"But?"

Harm turned to face her, the arm around her slipping off her shoulder as his hand gently cupped her cheek. "But I'm still scared. And this stupid plan might work or you might get hurt and I don't want to play with those odds."

"What do you propose? Nothing else has worked, Harm. Maybe putting myself directly in his path will."

He knew she was right and had been on board earlier but the reservations came quick and hard. The more Harm ruminated on the subject, the less he wanted her a part of it. "You did that already when he thought we broke up and nothing came of it."

"This is different." Mac would have information to share and a reason for the spook to believe her. "You know it's different. And you don't have to worry, Webb's always been a push over around me."

"Wear a wire."

"No."

Harm sighed, "Mac please, please wear a damned wire." He supplicated, fearing something would go dreadfully wrong.

"I need you to trust me. I'll be fine. We can end this, all of this and finally be together."

"Sarah, I love you."

God, hearing those three words said in earnest made Mac feel an emotion she wasn't prepared for. All at once she felt a lump in her throat, a tightening over her heart and a tingle over her skin. The want to throw herself at him and kiss Harm senselessly was put on hold for now because spending a night making love to him would make it that much harder to leave in the morning.

Part of her wanted to run. There were plenty of places the two of them could hide away forever and forget about Will and Webb and everyone in between. But a life on the run wasn't a life at all. "I don't think I'll ever tire of hearing you say that.. It makes me feel so-"

"Alive." He offered and then leaned in to kiss her. It was short but sweet and with another heavy sigh, Harm pulled away. "Be careful. Be on alert always. Don't forget that you're a Marine above all else."

"Semper fi."

Neither of them slept that night and by mid-morning, Mac was making her way to Alexandria.

The following morning Webb sat at the dining table with a newspaper stretched in front of him. Half eaten hard boiled eggs and toast sat on a plate along with a snifter with two fingers worth of what Mac assumed was caña. His breakfast of champions made her stomach churn given how early it was to consume sure hard alcohol.

"Morning." She pulled out a chair and sat to his left, the part of his body that was physically weaker than the rest from nerve damage, as a means to stay a step ahead.

"Good morning." He lowered the paper and gave her a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. In fact, Clay looked tired with dark circles under the eyes which were rimmed in red. She could have sworn there was some white substance under his nose as well but, as far as Mac knew, Clay's vice was drinking not drugs. "Sleep well?"

"No." Mac admitted. "You?"

"No."

She watched as he stood and returned with a small bowl of fruits along with more toast and hard boiled eggs. A cup of coffee was last and it was what Mac eagerly drank from, savoring the feel of the caffeine in her veins. "Thank you."

"I wasn't sure what you'd like but I knew that coffee was a must."

"I'm never fully awake without it." Even if his version wasn't Marine grade, it was higher end stuff with a cocoa finish she could actually taste and savor. "This is wonderful."

"At $70 a pound it better be." He poured more into her cup from a French press and then sat back to admire the view. Even in the morning with the vestiges of sleep on her face and messy hair Sarah was stunning. He wondered how that look would change after they'd slept together. Would the glow of post love making bliss shone on her skin?

He grinned and shook his head free of such thoughts that were much too soon to conquer. At the very least Sarah was in his home, wearing his clothes and sleeping in his bed, that was enough…for now.

"I'm sorry about last night." His apology came on the heels of the bruise he spotted on her wrist, a fresh one from where his hand had roughly grabbed her. Now his touch was gentle when he raised her wrist to his lips and kissed the ugly mark. "I wasn't myself."

"It's alright."

The want to pull her hand out of his grasp was overwhelming. His lips left a wet trail that Mac wanted to scrub off immediately. Instead, she kept her breathing slow, steady and let her eyes find his and hold their gaze. There certainly was something different in him, that loving stare he'd given her in the past held an air of malevolence.

"Sarah-"

"I have something. Something I stole from him." She pulled out of his hold and raced to the jacket draped on a hook of Clay's coat rack. From the breast pocket she retrieved a thumb drive, one with a copy of files she and Harm pulled from the laptop. "He had this laptop and when he passed out, I copied what I could."

Mac placed the drive on the table and slid it towards Clay. She watched as he curiously stared at the device and then ignored it in favor of the paper he was reading. "Don't you want to see what's on it?"

"I know what's on it." He stated with certainty and then placed a hand over the usb. "Do you?"

"No."

"No?"

Mac tried to sell the lie. She shook her head slowly from side to side. "No, I don't and how do you know?"

Webb unsteadily stood and motioned for her to follow. His cane kept him upright as he dropped onto a chair at a small desk and fired up his computer. With an unsteady hand he slipped the usb into its port and opened the first folder he spotted. Images of poppy fields came into view, the vibrant flowers beautiful as they were deadly.

There were images of buildings and one of two men shaking hands near a processing area. One man had light skin, blond hair and the other wasn't visible as the image had been cut. He glared at that image and Mac saw him shake. The more he passed each image the more irate Webb became. "Do you know what these are? Did he tell you?"

"No but the flowers they look like-"

"Poppy. Opium. It's the weapon of choice these days. Much more effective than guns or missiles. The effects can cripple a whole battalion." He stopped at an image of the fields and sighed. "You said Harm was working for MI6."

"Yes. I saw documents and overheard a call."

"Who's his handler?"

"I don't know."

At that Webb stood and nearly fell over. His cane was the only thing to keep him upright as he lunged at Mac and grabbed her arm. "Did he mention any one? A last name? Anything!"

This time she did pull away and in the same motion pushed him backwards onto the desk. "Stop this! I'm not your enemy. I'm a friend and one that is sorry she was so stupid to beleive the lies of a man who clearly never cared."

"Forget that! Sarah, try to remember…it's important. I need a name."

"Clay-"

"Please, Sarah…think. Did he mention someone? Anyone?" He was desperate now, shaking and wide eyed.

"Kitch-Kitcher. Harm called him Kitcher."

"Will Kitcher? Fuck." The color drained from his face and Webb shook as he dropped into the desk chair. He quickly typed out a name on his computer and a moment later a dossier popped up on the monitor - all CIA records on William H. Kitcher.

"Those won't help you see through walls." Will quipped as Harm brought the binoculars to his eyes for the fifth or sixth time. There was nothing to see, they were too far away and Webb's apartment was on the top floor where prying eyes could never find him. For a moment, Harm thought he caught movement through a window but then realized it was nothing more than a reflection.

"Funny. I'm trying to see if she'll signal us." He squinted through the viewfinder and found nothing out of the ordinary. This lack of contact since the evening was beginning to make him stir crazy. The thoughts that raced through his mind, evil ones of the horrors men could inflict on women wafted through his mind.

It was Will's hand on his forearm that stopped Harm from running out of the car and breaking down Webb's door. "Easy, Rabb. The Colonel is a big girl, let the woman work."

The men sat in silence, Kitcher wolfing down a breakfast of eggs, bacon and potatoes while Harm merely picked at his food and chugged down a cup of coffee. The copious amount of caffeine was giving him the jitters and as he took a deep breath and let it out, a thought came to mind. "This isn't about Queen and country for you, is it?."

"Isn't it?"

"No." Mac had relayed the facts Kershaw found like the image of Will and Webb after a successful assignment. "You have personal beef against Webb."

Will set down his plastic fork into the styrofoam receptacle and grinned. "Am I that obvious?"

"At first no but the way you hound after him…it's not just a job…He screwed you over at some point and this is your vendetta." Harm tilted his head and studied the Brit before wondering out loud what he mostly assumed. "Let me guess, he stole your girl?"

"Hah no."

"Then what?"

A heavy sigh escaped Will's mouth as he laid his head back against the headrest. He pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair. His reasons were pety, a stupid vendetta he'd been raised to see through. "The Webb's and the Kitcher's go way back to the first World War."

"Oh?"

"Clayton's great grandfather Percival helped supply Russia with materials needed to defeat the Germans, he also found that he had a knack for selling arms to the highest bidder. This was before the CIA was even considered, when each branch had their own intelligence division." Henry Kitcher, Will's grandfather was part of British Naval intelligence working closely with Americans to intercept cominique being passed by Germans seeking to force a war in the United States.

"Percival and my grandfather wound up hiding out in the same brothel in France. The madam was a sympathizer being paid by the Allied power to use her whores as spies against any clientele that favored the Central powers. They were friends for a bit, enemies for life until Percival Webb took a knife to my grandfather's kidney and left him to die."

The man was solemn, his face falling slightly as if there was more to the story than he could offer. He took a breath and let it out slowly, "I know this sounds like some story but, it isn't. And I know you want to ask me how I know that it happened…"

"Will-"

"The French woman, the madam that ran the brothel was my grandmother and Percival threatened to kill her when she discovered his secrets." Percival Webb had begun to amass a great deal of wealth by working with Russia and establishing a pipeline for weapons to be brought into the country.

The practice was maintained by his son Neville and then passed down to Clayton, all of whom were Soviet sympathizers working in America on Russia's payroll. "So yes, this is a vendetta for me and it's the closest anyone in my family has come to destroying the Webb dynasty. They are evil, Harm - he supplies drugs, weapons, intelligence. Three other men were involved, two in the CIA and one in the FBI. And all three were caught but Webb…nothing sticks. Nothing. Even with rumors that he's an oligarch."

Harm's thoughts turned back a year and a half to a pregnant Catherine Gale that showed up at his apartment carrying a pouch of diamonds and telling him stories about Webb's deception. She was afraid to give information to anyone else and for a moment, he wondered how far up the pipeline this all went.

Someone big was protecting the spook and he wouldn't be surprised if the moles that dug a ditch so far into the agency that it was almost impossible to discover. He also thought of Mac and the assignment given to her directly from Kershaw to investigate Webb with any method available to her disposal. It made him sick to think that the director of such a powerful intelligence agency would stoop to such levels with an officer like Mac that was never designed for 'honeypot' assignments.

"Do you still trust her?" Will motioned towards Webb's building with his chin. "Hmm? Because I see the doubt creeping across your face. You really shouldn't play poker."

He had doubted her once or rather, allowed his anger to fuel a rage that was hidden deep inside. He'd hurt her, nearly shot the woman he loved and all for some war Harm was thrust into blindly.

Christ, if he could turn back the clocks to simpler, happier times he would. The time pieces would roll as far back as possible to the very second he realized the respect and admiration he felt for his partner was love. "I almost killed her because of you and yeah, I doubted her once. That won't ever happen again."

"A fool in love is a fool in love, I guess."

"You've never had feelings for someone? Anyone?"

Will nodded slowly. As tragic as it was, he had been in love once, madly so until betrayal broke them apart. "Yes. Once. She was in the IRA, took a bullet to the brain for it too. I gave up on love after that. I figure, if the Queen wants me to have a wife, she'd assign me one."

"The Navy assigned me one, I guess." Harm smiled, recalling their first meeting in a rose garden of all places. "We've been through hell and back. I can't let her go this time, I won't."

"Til death do you part?"

"I hope it never comes to that." He grabbed the binoculars and began searching the windows again, ignoring the chill that ran down his back that told him to run inside, break down the door and save the woman he loved.