Chapter 28 - Manderley.

Admiral Chegwidden's Home

MacLean, VA

Chegwidden wasn't sure when he became a man of routines. Perhaps it was life in the structured military that made him so? But, ever since his split from Meredith Cavanaugh, he'd become predictable. Early mornings and late hours at work. Return home, cook, shower, eat. He'd catch an hour of tv and then turn off most of the lights and spend the rest of the evening reading until he was ready for bed.

That changed the last few days since Harm and Mac appeared at ops with a plan he couldn't dissuade them from. A heavy conscience had him drinking every night in an effort to fall asleep. He worried about their safety, worried mostly about Mac because the Marine in her would serve herself up on a platter just to finish the mission.

He'd shouldered plenty of guilt in his life, starting in Vietnam but, this current impasse was almost crippling. His own pride forced him to kick Rabb out of the Navy, an act AJ could never live down.

Tonight, there'd been a change in his surroundings that he'd immediately noticed upon stepping out of the car. Being a SEAL had honed his senses and he all but saw a person hiding in the woods behind his home. The air was statically charged and although his routine remained the same, this time he sat by the fireplace holding a gun.

It was late, close to midnight when he heard footsteps crunching on falling leaves at the rear of his home. He quietly stood and made a beeline for the backdoor, keeping his body flattened against the wall. Whoever the intruder was had the guts to ascend the back steps, stop at the door and even turn the knob that Chegwidden deliberately left unlocked.

The rest happened out of instinct. He grabbed the man by his neck, whipping them both around until the intruder's back slammed into the nearest wall, his pistol pointed right at his face. He heard the wince, a cough and the gasp for air. "Who sent you?"

"Admiral…it's…it's me… Harm."

"Mac's gone."

"Webb took her."

The words echoed in his mind as Chegwidden killed most of the lights and drew the curtains tightly. He knew what it felt like to have someone he loved taken and the unbearable weight of the unknown but there was little he could do to help.

Most of his resources had turned up empty and his only hope hung on the information his friend in the NSA was trying to locate. Until then, it was a waiting game and he didn't know how much time they had left.

Clayton Webb had always been a thorn at his side, a wild card that was given carte blanche to use his staff at will. All avenues to sever his reach had been denied and it was echoed that the Webb family had done enough 'favors' across Washington to get the man whatever he wanted.

Why his desires always seemed to fall on JAG's doorstep was a conundrum until months prior when he saw Webb dangling off of Mac's arm during a soiree. The man was enamored with the Marine, a detail he missed years ago and only became blatantly apparent after the Spook dragged Mac to Paraguay.

He let out a deep breath and poured four fingers worth of whiskey into one glass and two into his.

Chegwidden took a hard look at his guest who sat in an armchair staring at the flames licking the fireplace. He'd never seen such a desolate expression on his former subordinate's face. It was actually painful to witness. "Harm-"

"I killed someone tonight." The younger man said suddenly. There was no expression of remorse or regret but an anger that was thinly veiled as he placed the tumbler into Harm's hand.

AJ settled onto his sofa and took a quick peek out the window to find his property as quiet and serene as it had been when he arrived. He took a sip of his own whiskey and frowned. "I supposed you've killed a few men in your line of work."

"I have. Most were very, very bad men. Others, you just never know." Harm took a sip of his drink and tipped his head back to let its warmth numb part of him. In the last hour he'd brought Chegwidden up to speed on the current events except for the murder of an MI6 officer that was likely being scraped off if Clay's pricelesss Turkish rug. "I don't feel anything over shooting him, AJ. He didn't trust Mac. He turned me against her once. He wanted me as his pawn and I let him use me."

"Him? Him who?"

"Will."

"The MI6 officer?" Chegwidden deduced.

"Yeah. Him." Harm's fingers tapped on the glass that he set on his thigh. "I could have killed her…He made me fail her and it wasn't gonna happen again."

"How did all of this get so bad?"

"You have to ask?" Harm's glare was icy, murderous and it made Chegwidden realize that the younger man wasn't even a bit over the errors of the past. "We may be sharing a drink like men but, I'm still fucking pissed at you and your stupid desison against me."

"Harm-"

"You wouldn't let me back after I ran off to save her…to save her, AJ! Mac was strapped to a wooden table a second away from being fried with electric cables plugged into a car battery. They didn't care that she was a woman or that she appeared to be pregnant. They didn't care about anything other than hurting or even killing a traitor. If I wouldn't have gotten there when I did-"

"I could have gotten you there sooner." AJ said suddenly, his voice harsh as he ground the words through gritted teeth. Off Harm's surprised look Chegwidden nodded slowly. "You ran off. You gave me an ultimatum and ran off with no plan and no reasoning, just a hot headed attempt that thankfully worked to your advantage."

"I didn't just 'run off.' I had to look for a starting point, do some digging of my own because you wouldn't help."

Chegwidden stood and made his way over to the small bar. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey, filled his glass half full with the amber liquid and then braced his hands against the surface. He sighed, shaking his head when he thought back to Webb's stupid request, one that he should have immediately denied. "I made a mistake letting Webb take her and I made a mistake letting the SECNAV placate me that everything would be fine. I'm sorry…I'm so goddamned sorry, Harm."

The younger man finished his drink and stared into the flames as if they held some answer. Harm tightened his grip on the glass he held while his warring emotions decided it was time to let bygones go. "I forgive you."

Bud Roberts sat in the Admiral's personal office, his fingers flying over the laptop's keyboard as he tried to break the code. His commanding officer and mentor both stood by impatiently waiting for some sort of sign that he'd made it in. "Where did you get this?"

"Kitcher found it in a hidden compartment beneath Webb's desk. I tried to turn it on but it's encrypted, that's why we called you." He hated involving anyone else but his options were extremely limited. "I think this might have what we're looking for."

The younger officer cursed as he was two letters away from cracking the device's security only to be kicked off. A second later he pulled a CD out of a small case he brought and exchanged it for the one in the computer's drive. "I need to try something else and if this doesn't work, it'll be bricked."

"Bricked?"

Bud glanced at Harm and then Chegwidden. "If I get it wrong, you'll be staring at one hell of a paperweight." His index finger hovered over the 'enter' button waiting for Harm to make a decision. He trusted his skills, knew what he was capable of but that meant little when facing a device encrypted by the CIA. "Yes or no? It's your call, Commander."

Harm glanced between both men and ignored the feeling of regret as he heard Bud say his former rank. He was no longer in the Navy and would never be again. What came next was something of a blackhole that he didn't dare dwell on. "Do it, Bud. I trust you."

The Lt Commander cracked his knuckles, said a prayer and pushed down on one key with his index finger. The monitor went black and remained that way for one of the longest minutes of Bud's life. He failed. He was sure of it until the machine made a whirring noise and the command prompt popped onto the screen.

He took another breath and began to slowly type in code after code, each one breaking a failsafe until the computer gave up its secrets. Bud rattled off some information that Harm barely understood, facts about operating systems while he worked to get in a "back way."

Folders opened and detailed plans popped up on the screen. There were photos of the Poppy fields, coded messages between a Mr. Williams, Webb's alias during the Paraguay assignment and a Mr. Khamai, a Greek word for 'Chameleon.'

"Stop Bud, how recent is that message." He pointed at the monitor and tried to use his own CIA training to break the code. There was a series of words that he knew meant something else and all of it led to a secret meeting of sorts.

"It's less than a week old, Sir." Bud noted, reading the text but not finding anything pertinent in the words. "All this, it's code isn't it?"

"Yeah Bud and I need you to print out as many copies as you can for me."

For nearly two hours Harm sat in Chegwidden's office, his body hunched over the desk as he tried to decipher what Webb's next move was. He'd balled up and tossed at least fifteen sheets of the same message and was becoming ever frustrated with his lack of progress. "Harm. You need to get some rest."

He looked up as Chegwidden clamped a hand over his shoulder and settled a cup of tea just in front of him. "I can't. I won't stop until I know where he took her."

"And you think that message you've been toiling over has an answer?" Chegwidden could make no heads or tails out of the text which appeared to be a simple message from one friend to another.

"Yes."

The Admiral folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the desk. "Harm, he could have taken her out of the country."

"No. He didn't. She's here, somewhere close…I know she is." Although he didn't want to discuss why or how their connection worked, it just did. But damn did he wish for her gift of sight.

"Harm-"

He brushed Chegwidden's hand away and stood to full height. Danger and anger radiated from him in such waves that he wasn't surprised to see his former CO taking a step back. "She found me once, remember? I can find her, I know I can…I just…this…fuck!"

A hand angrily brushed over the desk sending pages flying across the office. The hot cup of tea barely escaped and some of the drink had sloshed over the last page Harm was working on. Crying wasn't something he did much but at that moment, in that setting he felt like the most vulnerable man on Earth.

"You'll find her." It was Chegwidden's embrace, his calming words and pats on the back that finally allowed Harm to have some composure. When the tears dried out it was also Chegwidden that cleaned the spilled tea, put the pages back on his desk and handed Harm the pen he was using.

"Thank you, sir."

"It's AJ. I'll make you some coffee, you just keep working."

"Harm…umm, sir?" Bud had quietly watched the interaction, too scared to move and too concerned to know what to do so he continued his code breaking. "I found plans for a house…a mansion on the beach."

"Of course." Harm grabbed a fresh page and began to search each word for some sign he'd missed. He wasn't supposed to look for words, it was letters - the first letter of each word he coded spelled out a familiar name that Mac had once mentioned. During their "split" Clay had taken her to a party at the Webb family home, a three story mansion near Virginia Beach that sat at the end of a peninsula on the banks of Lynnhaven River.

It was large and pretentious, everything Mac hated along with a name that Webb's father Neville had pulled from a book of the same name.

M-A-N-D-E-R-L-E-Y. He circled each letter and then wrote them out on the bottom. "Manderley."

Manderley Mansion

Virginia Beach, VA

She quickly found out that feigning sleep was the best course to keep Webb away. He checked on her constantly, Mac could hear the hobbling as he neared her room along with the tap of his cane on the hardwood floors.

It reminded Mac of her father, Joe MacKenzie and the sound of his drunken footsteps as he stalked down the hall in search of her mother. Only there was no closet to slip into or old boxes of Christmas decorations to hide behind.

While the bedroom had French doors that led to a balcony, Clay made sure they were nailed shut. The windows wouldn't open and her only clear form of escape was the water, the river that stretched out before the sprawling home. She wasn't a good swimmer and wasn't sure what the shock of the cold water would do to her body.

Two, nearly three days had passed and her belief in Harm hadn't wavered. He was looking for her and Mac knew he wouldn't stop until he found her. She hoped it would happen soon.

Her body was weakening due to the food she refused to eat out of fear that Webb would drug her. She drank tap water from the faucet, kept herself hydrated but the lack of sustenance was causing her mind to grow hazy.

It was a loud whomping sound that made Mac think she'd gone crazy. The noise was distant at first, whirling around the home three times. From the window she saw the final approach of the sleek black and white helicopter, its profile zipping past the home and likely landing in the rear law where she lost sight of it.

She hoped it was transportation to whisk Webb away and leave her alone on Manderley but the likelihood of him leaving her behind was nonexistent. His obsession for her had become sick and possessive - Mac would be taken wherever Clay went with or without her consent.

Like a caged lion, she paced in front of the French doors hoping to catch a glimpse of the helicopter, its passengers or lack thereof. Her internal clock was wavering but she could estimate that nearly an hour and a half had passed before footsteps came down the hallway and stopped by her door.

She expected Webb, his cane and that gross way he undressed her with his eyes, to appear with some request she needed to put up with. Instead there were two sets of footsteps and when the lock was released and the door swung open, the shock certainly registered on her face. "You."

There was no disguise this time, although his hair was still blonde from when he dyed it. The blue contacts were gone, the makeup used to conceal his brown skin had also vanished and for the first time in nearly two years, Mac stared back into the eyes of her tormentor; her nightmare. "Sadik."

"Hello Sarah." He dragged out her name like a man who was trying to seduce her and his lips curved into a sick smirk as Sadik stepped into the room stopping just a few feet away.

It was his presence that sent a chill run down her spine making her shiver. The involuntary act made Mac both annoyed and embarrassed

that he still had such an effect on her when she tried so hard not to drown in the memories of Paraguay. Harm had been her saving grace. His presence in her life had given Mac the strength to stop the terrible thoughts and nightmares of her impending torture. "How are you still alive? You're been hunted by multiple agencies across the globe."

"I am a man who is hard to catch, Sarah. I also have friends in high places." Webb, of course.

Efforts to catch, kill or bring the terrorists to justice were thwarted by the very man who was sent after him. Their alliance made little sense and even as her analyst job for the CIA was designed to locate and point out anomalies, this was one that she completely missed.

She tried to back away when Sadik approached but there was nowhere to go and nothing to use as a weapon. Mac balled her hands into fists and in the end decided it was best not to fight or struggle. She needed to be on their side or pretend to be long enough to expose whatever their little alliance would spawn.

"You fear me."

"You tried to kill me and Clay. What do you expect?" She glanced at Webb who stood by the doorway, the grip on his cane's handle so tight that it made his knuckles white. Of course Mac knew they were partners of some kind and that Webb's torture was purposefully done to shift jaudinced eyes away from the spy.

Photos were one thing but seeing both men in the same room with such civility gave her a better scope into this situation she was in. So much for being one of the agency's top analysts, Mac couldn't imagine this alliance not for every ruby, diamond or money in the World.

"Come, Sarah."

When Sadik reached out for her, Mac pulled away pushing at his chest to back him off. "Do you trust him, Clay?"

Webb's face contorted slightly, an indication that this partnership was not ideal but it was necessary. "We've been working together since before Paraguay. I've known him for years."

"That's not what I asked. Do you trust him?"

He hesitated and traded glances between Sarah and Sadik. "I do."

"He tortured you. He almost killed you and then went after me. How-"

Webb leaned against the vanity and shifted the cane from one hand to another, a nervous quirk Mac had picked up on as his tell. "The agency was suspicious and I knew they put someone to watch me. I didn't suspect it was Catherine Gale until she suddenly disappeared. See we had a…a thing."

That thing gave him a forlorn expression as if her betrayal hurt him. Mac wondered if she knew about the baby, his baby, the one that Catherine tried to shield from their World. From what Harm gathered, the former CIA lawyer had fallen hard for Webb only to find that he was involved in the most nefarious game. "You loved her?"

"I thought I did but I was wrong." He blushed, allowed himself that moment of weakness and then cleared his throat as he recalled that they were not alone. "Mr. Fahd won't dare hurt you again. Would you?"

Sadik's lips were a thin line, his eyes shot between the two of them. He was a businessman, a man of cause and this interaction was sickening. His woman would never speak to him as Sarah spoke to Webb. His woman would be his servant, punished harshly for such outbursts. But, this wasn't the place for his beliefs. Converting Sarah would take time and he longed to watch her feisty demeanor break slowly. "Allah shines down on you today Sarah. Maybe, one day, Allah will help you atone for your sins."

He stepped away, albeit reluctantly. Given Webb's physical state, he could easily subdue the spook and take the woman Allah put in his path. For now, that would have to wait. "Come, Clayton there is some work to be done."

Webb mouthed an inaudible "I'm sorry" as he closed and locked her door.