Chapter 27 - Trapped
Location Unknown
VA
Sleepy…she was so damned sleepy.
No it was more of a lethargy, like her head was full of cotton as it floated in the clouds. And she had floated at some point and taken into a dark place that made her brain ill equipped to decipher between dreams or reality.
The World around her had moved at such a fast pace amidst the wind and the rain and over gravelly roads until it all stopped…and stopped and stopped. There was silence, the eerie kind that made your ears ring and as Mac slowly opened one eye, she found herself in an unfamiliar bedroom laying on an unfamiliar bed.
She raised an arm and the effort was almost too much to bear. In fact, she may have gone back to sleep if not for the incessant ache in her bladder, the pressure to find its relief. Exhaustion was one thing but embarrassment was another and it was with Marine strength that she fought through the fog and walked towards the only open door.
The light was on, casting a soft glow into the room that was sparsely lit by a tiny table lamp. She used whatever hard surface lay in her path to steady herself until dropping, unceremoniously onto the toilet.
A splash of cool water on her face later and palmful of the same water being thirstly drank made some of the haze fade. Mac knew this wasn't Webb's apartment, a space she was vaguely familiar with. This room was far too opulent.
The bathroom had gold trim on all hard surfaces and the faucet handles were so ornate they were almost a shame to touch. The bedroom itself was massive, decorated in blues and whites with a fireplace in one end surrounded by two loveseats and a table. The bed was a four poster King, the wood a whitewash with chiffon fabric draped across the top. Mac had been here before, she knew but the mental fog kept her from remembering the how and when.
A wave of nausea had her settling at the edge of the bed and it wasn't long before the lethargy made her black out again.
Webb's Apartment
Alexandria, VA
Something was wrong.
Although he ignored the initial red flag that told him to rush into Webb's apartment, this time Harm was incapable of doing so. He tapped his fingers on his leg, used the binoculars for the umpeeth time but when day turned to night, he was desperate.
"I need to get in there."
He was halfway out the door when Will's hand grasped his forearm. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"Something is wrong goddamnit. I was hoping it was just me worrying but I can sense it. I can feel it…something is wrong." Harm drew the pistol he carried in a shoulder holster pointing it at his MI6 handler. His grip was steady and his expression was one of pure anger. If Will didn't let him go, he was prepared to shoot and kill. "I have very little left to lose… I'll kill you."
Will raised his hands in surrender and sat back. "I have no doubt you have it in you to kill in cold blood."
"For her, I'd do more than that."
Harm hurried off, gun in hand. He raced across the street knowing he was putting himself in danger if any of Webb's men were watching. Taking the stairs felt quicker and he took the steps three at a time, his long legs making good time as he made it to the penthouse.
His heart raced both out of fear and adrenaline and as Harm stalked down the empty hallway he only hesitated for a moment when he stood at Webb's door. He pressed his large palm against the wood and closed his eyes before rearing his body and slamming straight into the door.
The force was so great that wood was sent splintering everywhere and only a piece of the door still hung from its hinge. He walked in like an uncaged lion with his weapon held at the ready, finger on the trigger.
There was nothing, no one but the scent of her as marched into Webb's bedroom and saw the small flashlight on the center of the rumbled bed. He circled the room, double backed and went through every nook and cranny of the spook's apartment.
She was gone… taken without any clue as to when or where they went or how Webb took Mac without them seeing. "Shit."
"You still certain she's on your side, mate?" Will's voice came through the doorway as he traipsed over the broken wood with a pistol in his hand.
"Fuck you, Kitcher."
He glanced around the apartment, holstered his weapon and placed his hands on his hips. "I know, I know you love her." Will pulled a set of gloves out of his pant pocket and motioned towards the small hall that led to the rooms and office. "I'll go check for evidence."
"Will…wait." Harm followed as the man nearly bounded giddily through Webb's apartment.
Being in a foe's haven was an oddity for Will. He had never, ever been this close to a nemesis' personal effects and the want to search everything was most tantalizing. The office was first and he wondered about the treasures found inside. Surely most spies would keep little case information at home but, Kicher was an optimist.
"What are you doing? We need to get out of here."
He was sitting on Webb's chair, his fingers running gingerly over the wooden desk and its underside. Will was searching for a button, a switch, anything to open a secret compartment. "Oh, what is this?" His fingers pressed firmly against a catch that released an embedded drawer, a slim laptop sat inside. "Thank you Mr. Webb."
Harm watched curiously, wondering how Kitcher knew exactly where to look. He wasn't surprised to see the device pulled out of its hiding hole and when he shot a questioning glance at Will the other man could only grin sheepishly. "Clayton is predictable."
"You can't take that. If he comes back he'll know someone was here." Harm said as Will stood up from the chair and began making his way across the apartment with the laptop in hand. "Kitcher, stop!"
The barrel of Harm's gun pointed at the Brit who spun around on his heel and held one arm outstretched. "You gonna shoot me, Harm? Is that it? Shoot the one chance to get your girl back."
"You know where he took her?"
"Of course."
But Harm wouldn't lower his gun, not this time. He felt the hair raise on the back of his neck and a chill that manifested from deep inside. Mac didn't trust Will, she had told him. It was the MI6 officer that sent his life into a wilder spiral. The same man had him hold a gun towards the woman he loved. He would have killed Mac and all because of this constant manipulation.
"I'm done trusting you." Harm tightened his grip on the gun and took aim.
Will lowered his hand and snorted "You don't have the bollocks."
"Don't I?"
The MI6 officer walked forward slightly and then stopped and squared his eyes once he noticed that Harm's hand wasn't shaking. "All of this, your life ruined over some woman?"
A tension rapidly blanketed the room, it's weight a heavy one to bear. Harm's stupid desperation to get to Webb had let to nothing, he knew now. The man standing across from him had put him in the middle, a pawn to a game neither he nor Mac needed to be part of. "Yeah, all for some woman."
Without a care about morality and consequences, Harm squeezed the trigger.
Mac followed the sound of classical music as is played in the downstairs living area. That is where she found him, a glass of caña in his hand sitting on a large armchair with his index finger keeping time along Vivaldi's 'Winter in F Minor.'
As much as Mac appreciated Classical music, she hated the violin and the shrieky way certain strings sounded. The music did nothing to ease her aching head and when she approached Webb he used a remote to lower the sound. "Good afternoon."
"Where are we?" She hadn't yet walked far enough into the living area to see the dunes and the ocean that lapped gently against the sand.
'Of course!' Mac remembered now - a party, one of such pomp and circumstance that she felt uncomfortably out of her league. She was the beautiful woman on Clay's arm that mother only slightly approved of - a step above the CIA lawyer he was dating a year prior.
Webb would find her out in the back sometime later, the ends of her long velvet dress wet and sandy from when Mac walked along the edge of the shore. "You were uncomfortable."
"Yes."
He nodded in understanding and held up the keys to the Porche sitting in the driveway. "Wanna drive it, Sarah? It's been sitting there since…well, since." Clay tapped the handle of his cane. The torture had take a lot from him, the ability to drive himself being one and he mostly got around with a chauffer these days.
They drove up and down the coast while pointing out mansion after mansion until he sent her into the city to a tiny diner, a greasy spoon with easily one of the best burgers she ever had. It was a moment of levity where her break up with Harm felt silly. The man sitting across from her could not hurt a fly. He was a friend, a caring one until he pressed her up against the sleek black sports car and tried to kiss her.
"Not yet?"
"No. Maybe not ever."
Clay pulled away with a muttered "Fuck Rabb" before he slipped into the passengers seat and waited for Mac to drive them back to the party. They would stay the night, him in one room and Mac in another.
"Your family home." She stood at the floor to ceiling window watching the ocean grow turbulent due to an incoming storm. Her hand pressed against the solid glass aa she recalled Porter Webb's claim that the home was something of a fortress with windows made of such strong glass that a bullet would never shatter it.
The place was made to keep people inside, safe…trapped because that was what Mac was - trapped in a gilded cage although she didn't understand the lengths he'd taken to bring her here. "You drugged me."
"I used a sedative, yes. You wouldn't have come otherwise and we weren't safe in DC." Webb was standing behind her his hand extended out and holding a black and white photo of Harm and Will, the two men who had been sitting in a black. SUV outside his apartment. "Harm followed you to my place and the man at his left, that's William Kitcher of MI6."
Mac feigned surprise as she took the photo and studied it. A moment later she grabbed the edges and ripped the pictures, dropping the pieces into the fireplace. She watched as the flames consumed the paper and then turned to Webb who stared dubiously at her. "It's done…We're done, he and I."
"Are you sure this time? Love isn't easily fallen in or out of."
"I know but, I have to try and you have to help me."
He snorted and then dropped into the large chair with a heavy thud. "Me? I've been here before with you, Sarah. I'm not risking having my feelings hurt because you're not ready."
For the rest of her life Mac would hate herself because of what came next, the impulse that fueled her actions. Moments later, she found herself straddling his lap, her lips pressing forcefully against his. She tried to think of Harm and the kisses they shared that were so filled with love and excitement. She tried to pretend but Clay's lips were neither full or soft, just rigid and thin.
His kisses were sloppily dropped on her lips, his tongue far too forceful too soon. The hands that were once gripping the arms of his chair were now firmly on her ass, squeezing and kneading. None of this was wanted or needed and when she finally tore her mouth from his, all Mac could feel was emptiness and shame.
Clay's hand moved the hair out of her face, tucking loose strands behind her ear. He studied her for a moment and shifted beneath so that Mac no longer felt his erection pressing into her. "Why did you kiss me, Sarah?"
"Because…Because I wanted to."
His head cocked to the side. "Is that it?"
She shook her head and slipped off his lap, coming to her feet. Mac slowly walked across the living room back to her spot at the window where the dark clouds now fully blanketed the skies. "I'm sorry, Clay."
"Why don't you admit the truth to me, Sarah? Say out loud what I already know."
A chill ran up her spine at his words and she froze when he stood and walked towards her stopping just a breath away. Webb's arms wrapped around her middle, his lips kissed just below her left ear. "Admit that the only reason you came to me was because you don't want to be alone."
Those words forced long forgotten memories to bubble up in her mind. It had been years since she thought of Mic or the way he simply left her despite claiming to love her for all eternity. It hurt then and it hurt now, that weakness that forced her to take what another man offered because rhe man she really loved was emotionally unavailable.
Only time had changed them - both of them. Mac was able to tell Harm what she felt and Harm had finally let go. Ironically, she stood inside another unwanted embrace and felt a tear slip from her eye when Webb's arms tightened around her. "I can live with that. I can be patient and wait for you, Sarah. Even if it takes forever, you're mine now."
She closed her eyes when one hand roamed up her middle, stopping just beneath her breast. The want to jam her elbow into his sternum was suppressed by some miracle of God. This was just flesh touching flesh - there would be no emotional attachment, no love or honor or promises of a future.
But the lie she tried to sell herself died when his other hand traveled south and slipped beneath the elastic of the sweats Mac wore. Her hand stopped his just as Clay's fingers found her curls. "I'm not ready for this…Not yet."
'Not ever.' But she would use this new development to buy some time and pray that Harm's sixth sense would eventually find her.
"I understand. I'm disappointed but I understand." Clay kissed her neck and then her cheek, there was a final squeeze of his arms around her middle and then he let go.
He didn't see Mac brush away a solitary tear or hear the catch in the breath she took. He plopped down the chair and gave one warning. "Just so you know, he won't find you. I'll make sure he'll never find you."
"Thanks, Clay." She gulped.
"I know you don't now but, you'll learn to love me. We're the same, you and I." Webb sighed heavily, almost dramatically as he raised a glass of caña to his lips and took a long drink. He waved the glass at Mac as he spoke. "Mother didn't necessarily approve of you but that won't matter anymore. She's dead."
The way he stated his mother's demise was casual, as one night comment over a routine dentist appointment. There was no remorse, no pain, only relief in Clay's expression.
"You killed her?"
"I helped. She was drinking too much and took a bad spill down the steps. Funny how a neck can break just like that." He snapped his fingers for effect and in the silence of the home the sound made Mac jump. "She's better off... always in the way, even with my father. You won't get in my way, will you Sarah?"
Christ, the man was losing it. Gone was the loveable spook that had helped her and Harm countless times. Had it not been for Webb, it was possible that her path would never have crossed Harm's.
Mac finally understood the reason for his fall and the physcosis that now made him irrecognizable. She saw it on the side table, a half empty syringe with God knows what inside. "Clay what is that?"
His answer came in the form of a malevolent expression and a warning in a voice that wasn't normally his. "I said, you won't get in my way, will you Sarah?"
The Marine in her wanted to fight and survive but the lawyer in her saw this as a chess match for her to counter each move. "No, Clay… I won't get in your way. Just promise to protect me."
"I always will."