Title: Just to Talk XVI
Author: Nan
Author's notes - Sorry this isn't progressing faster. It seems to write itself in slow motion. I'll see what I can do about speeding this up.
************************
"She's gone?" Daniel pored himself a cup of coffee.
"She was dressed when I got up to let out the cats earlier. She wanted to get a shower and a change of clothes at the hotel," said Susan. The whole-wheat toast was hot on her fingers as she buttered. She studied Daniel's half-turned face as she pushed the plate toward him. His lack of comment on the story of Karla's last hours spoke volumes.
The silence remained between them. Susan knew they both needed to put it into context. She ventured to speak, to sum it up somehow, "I still can't believe Sarah's story. The whole thing seems so senseless."
"I can," he said and his eyes glittered as he met hers for the first time today. Her heart sunk. She knew, sooner or later, it would come back to this. Ten years and he was starting to forget. Now this had brought it all back.
She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Paraguay is not Rwanda."
"It seems like I've learned nothing. Karla is dead and I did nothing."
"The dream is back?"
He nodded. "Why is life so cheap?"
"It's not cheap. Not everywhere," she reminded him. "There was nothing you could've done to stop this."
He stood up from the table and pushed away his uneaten breakfast. "I'll be over at the store."
She called after him. "Events like these were set in motion long before Karla and Warren went to Paraguay. Or you set foot in Rwanda. What could you have done to stop evil people the likes of this?"
He turned in the doorway. "I've always been just a spectator. I can't stand it any longer."
**************
Her hand trembled slightly, as she pulled a comb through her wet hair all the while watching her face in the hotel mirror. Her hairdryer, styling gel, and makeup were all on the small counter in front. She crossed her legs and tucked them under the chair as she sat, leaning forward toward the mirror. She stopped combing and looked into the reflection of her eyes. Mirrors of the soul. Closing them slowly, her mind started drifting. He was here, with her in the room. He was padding up behind her, barefoot, dressed in a white Tee and jeans. He stopped and wrapped two strong arms around hers. She could feel herself leaning back, resting against the flat plane of his broad chest. "It's okay, Sarah," he would say.
If confession was good for the soul, than two must be great and her troubles should be over. Two confessions in less than twelve hours. One to the Woods about the events in Sadik's compound and second, she had reveled to Harm that she loved him.
Why had she said that? Like two previous times, that declaration had been the result of an unguarded moment. An admission like that was like diving from the highest tower into an Olympic swimming pool with no water.
The first person she admitted her love for Harm was Sturgis, over two years ago. Inadvertent words, just like last night. The second time was more recent. No foul done, because Webb had misinterpreted her intention and assumed wrongly she meant him.
But admitting to herself, to Sturgis and even maybe to Clay were vastly different from admitting to the man himself. But somehow, it didn't feel like the disaster she always thought those particular words would be. Despite what happened in Sydney Harbour oh-so-many years ago, it was hard to work up any regret about her slip. It was different now, she was certain that Harm loved her back.
Funny that was. Cause for so many prior years, Mac was equally convinced the opposite was true.
To understand now why she was willing to entertain the notion that Harm loved her and not before, was to understand the enigmatic relationship between them. It wasn't about words said or not said; sacrifices made or not made; but rather the emotion swirling behind it all. It was more about 17 unanswered messages than a dramatic, self-financed rescue to Paraguay. It was about hard fought courtroom battles that demonstrated his respect more than a flattering compliment ever could. With him, she felt angry, sad, exhilarated, frantic, astonished, skeptical, livid, challenged and alive. Without him, life was stale and flat like a bottle of soda left open on the counter overnight.
But she had meant it when she told Harm that she couldn't love him yet. Not while she felt like half a woman. And right now, she couldn't cry, couldn't forgive and couldn't feel. Couldn't love.
She went back to fixing her hair. What now? Her little quest and meeting Daniel Wood had brought her some satisfaction. She could see Karla now, picture where she came from, why she was like the way she was. In some way, killing Sadik was for Karla too. He had defiled a decent person forcing her to act against her nature.
But the satisfaction ended there. Daniel and Susan would never understand the rest. How events spun out of control despite everything she had done. Watching, listening while an evil man reduced a friend to a frightened creature. Sadik had forced her to feel emotions that no person should. Anger, hatred in a way even her abusive father never taught. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness.
Helplessness. It was an emotion from her childhood. To watch as her father struck her mother. To listen as angry cruel words hit their mark. To see her mother fall into depression and self-destruction. That's what Sadik had done. He had made her feel helpless again. Vulnerable. Even her marine training wasn't enough to combat that.
Mac's mouth was set in a thin line. She was not vulnerable. She was not helpless. She had tried to tell Harm in Paraguay but the whole thing had come out wrong. He interpreted her anger and fear as something directed at him. And it cost him his job and five months with the CIA.
She would go back to see Daniel and Susan. Thank them for their hospitality. Spend some time at the memorial to the two missionaries. Maybe somewhere in there she would figure out where to go next. She looked into the mirror again. Picking up her hairdryer in the other hand, she methodically started to brush.
*************
1723 Zulu
Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC
Harm mentally went through the checklist in his head. After his early morning meeting with Chegwidden, he had switched into overdrive. He found an empty seat on a flight to Heathrow out of BWI airport at 5 pm this afternoon. He handed off two case files to Bud and Sturgis. He hurried home to back.
He had one thing left to do. That is why now, dressed in his sweats and T-shirt, he was running along Pennsylvania Avenue. As a runner, he could fade into the background. He checked his watch. Plenty of time for a quick hour of exercise.
Author: Nan
Author's notes - Sorry this isn't progressing faster. It seems to write itself in slow motion. I'll see what I can do about speeding this up.
************************
"She's gone?" Daniel pored himself a cup of coffee.
"She was dressed when I got up to let out the cats earlier. She wanted to get a shower and a change of clothes at the hotel," said Susan. The whole-wheat toast was hot on her fingers as she buttered. She studied Daniel's half-turned face as she pushed the plate toward him. His lack of comment on the story of Karla's last hours spoke volumes.
The silence remained between them. Susan knew they both needed to put it into context. She ventured to speak, to sum it up somehow, "I still can't believe Sarah's story. The whole thing seems so senseless."
"I can," he said and his eyes glittered as he met hers for the first time today. Her heart sunk. She knew, sooner or later, it would come back to this. Ten years and he was starting to forget. Now this had brought it all back.
She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Paraguay is not Rwanda."
"It seems like I've learned nothing. Karla is dead and I did nothing."
"The dream is back?"
He nodded. "Why is life so cheap?"
"It's not cheap. Not everywhere," she reminded him. "There was nothing you could've done to stop this."
He stood up from the table and pushed away his uneaten breakfast. "I'll be over at the store."
She called after him. "Events like these were set in motion long before Karla and Warren went to Paraguay. Or you set foot in Rwanda. What could you have done to stop evil people the likes of this?"
He turned in the doorway. "I've always been just a spectator. I can't stand it any longer."
**************
Her hand trembled slightly, as she pulled a comb through her wet hair all the while watching her face in the hotel mirror. Her hairdryer, styling gel, and makeup were all on the small counter in front. She crossed her legs and tucked them under the chair as she sat, leaning forward toward the mirror. She stopped combing and looked into the reflection of her eyes. Mirrors of the soul. Closing them slowly, her mind started drifting. He was here, with her in the room. He was padding up behind her, barefoot, dressed in a white Tee and jeans. He stopped and wrapped two strong arms around hers. She could feel herself leaning back, resting against the flat plane of his broad chest. "It's okay, Sarah," he would say.
If confession was good for the soul, than two must be great and her troubles should be over. Two confessions in less than twelve hours. One to the Woods about the events in Sadik's compound and second, she had reveled to Harm that she loved him.
Why had she said that? Like two previous times, that declaration had been the result of an unguarded moment. An admission like that was like diving from the highest tower into an Olympic swimming pool with no water.
The first person she admitted her love for Harm was Sturgis, over two years ago. Inadvertent words, just like last night. The second time was more recent. No foul done, because Webb had misinterpreted her intention and assumed wrongly she meant him.
But admitting to herself, to Sturgis and even maybe to Clay were vastly different from admitting to the man himself. But somehow, it didn't feel like the disaster she always thought those particular words would be. Despite what happened in Sydney Harbour oh-so-many years ago, it was hard to work up any regret about her slip. It was different now, she was certain that Harm loved her back.
Funny that was. Cause for so many prior years, Mac was equally convinced the opposite was true.
To understand now why she was willing to entertain the notion that Harm loved her and not before, was to understand the enigmatic relationship between them. It wasn't about words said or not said; sacrifices made or not made; but rather the emotion swirling behind it all. It was more about 17 unanswered messages than a dramatic, self-financed rescue to Paraguay. It was about hard fought courtroom battles that demonstrated his respect more than a flattering compliment ever could. With him, she felt angry, sad, exhilarated, frantic, astonished, skeptical, livid, challenged and alive. Without him, life was stale and flat like a bottle of soda left open on the counter overnight.
But she had meant it when she told Harm that she couldn't love him yet. Not while she felt like half a woman. And right now, she couldn't cry, couldn't forgive and couldn't feel. Couldn't love.
She went back to fixing her hair. What now? Her little quest and meeting Daniel Wood had brought her some satisfaction. She could see Karla now, picture where she came from, why she was like the way she was. In some way, killing Sadik was for Karla too. He had defiled a decent person forcing her to act against her nature.
But the satisfaction ended there. Daniel and Susan would never understand the rest. How events spun out of control despite everything she had done. Watching, listening while an evil man reduced a friend to a frightened creature. Sadik had forced her to feel emotions that no person should. Anger, hatred in a way even her abusive father never taught. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness.
Helplessness. It was an emotion from her childhood. To watch as her father struck her mother. To listen as angry cruel words hit their mark. To see her mother fall into depression and self-destruction. That's what Sadik had done. He had made her feel helpless again. Vulnerable. Even her marine training wasn't enough to combat that.
Mac's mouth was set in a thin line. She was not vulnerable. She was not helpless. She had tried to tell Harm in Paraguay but the whole thing had come out wrong. He interpreted her anger and fear as something directed at him. And it cost him his job and five months with the CIA.
She would go back to see Daniel and Susan. Thank them for their hospitality. Spend some time at the memorial to the two missionaries. Maybe somewhere in there she would figure out where to go next. She looked into the mirror again. Picking up her hairdryer in the other hand, she methodically started to brush.
*************
1723 Zulu
Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC
Harm mentally went through the checklist in his head. After his early morning meeting with Chegwidden, he had switched into overdrive. He found an empty seat on a flight to Heathrow out of BWI airport at 5 pm this afternoon. He handed off two case files to Bud and Sturgis. He hurried home to back.
He had one thing left to do. That is why now, dressed in his sweats and T-shirt, he was running along Pennsylvania Avenue. As a runner, he could fade into the background. He checked his watch. Plenty of time for a quick hour of exercise.