NOTE: At the time of this writing, I feel compelled to add this note. It is not meant to forward any political agenda, only to explain some unfortunate coincidences. I want to assure you dear readers, that this story line was begun in the fall of 2003, and is being written and posted in April 2004. The fact that the current events in Iraq of escalated fighting, and the holding of foreign hostages; and the story line of this chapter is purely coincidental. I mean no disrespect to the US troops or civilians who are in danger in Iraq, by writing my humble fan fiction story. Nor do I mean any disrespect to the peaceful, faith filled Muslims in Iraq or anywhere in the world. I write for my own enjoyment, as a creative outlet, and post it to be shared by interested parties. It is an adventure story, based on a popular TV show, and I hope it will be accepted in the spirit it is written: for the enjoyment of writing, and reading and sharing. Thank you.
Claire Vincent
Author: Claire Vincent
Date April 2004
This is the fourth chapter of what will be many chapters in a series titled: Webb Odyssey. Watch for more stories under this title or my name. Clayton Webb has become a favorite character with me, and the story really involves him. Enjoy.
This Chapter is rated PG-13 for adult content.
Disclaimer: The Clayton Webb character, and other JAG characters, belong to Donald P. Bellisario, Bellisario Productions, CBS, et al. All other characters and situations of this story belong to the author. No copying of this material is allowed without my consent. For your reading pleasure, one copy is allowed.
WEBB Odyssey
Adventures of Clayton Webb and his friends at JAG, and certain special someone.
Rating: PG-13
Classification: JAG - Story
Webb/other Romance - Adventure
Spoilers: None, written after Tangled Webb.
See Chapters 1 - 3 for the beginning of the story.
Summary: Webb is back at his old job, running covert operations, and taking advantage of 'the best people' for the job. Only this time, the mission goes out of control, and our favorite spy is helpless.
Chapter 4 Webb Odyssey
Mission Gone Sour
Clayton Webb made his way through the maze of cubicles in the office of Homeland Security. He had been this way a few times before, but it had been months since he had last made a visit here. He hoped he remembered where her office was, and that it had not been moved. Clay hated to come here and see her, ask for her help. But, they were both professionals, and he needed her expertise and language skills on this assignment. He had always used the best, and she was the best for this one. He was sure they could fill their assigned duties, and put any personnel past behind them. In their line of work, they were bound to cross paths at times, and they should be able to handle it. This was not some pathetic ploy of his to see her, and have contact with her again. A very small voice in his head kept saying, maybe it will be true if you just keep telling yourself that Clay.
He came to her office, if you could really call it that. It was on the inside of the building, no windows, and was barely bigger than a closet. Clay guessed a major was not important enough for a real office in the great scheme of things in the office of Homeland Security.
Her door was open a crack and he peeked inside. She was sitting at her computer; he could see her profile. He took a moment, and just looked at her, and allowed himself to feel how much he missed her. Hearing her voice, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile. But he still felt what he had done, breaking up, was the right thing to do. Clay stepped a little to the side, and knocked.
'Yes' she replied, and kept typing.
He pushed the door open, and stepped inside. 'Amy' he said quietly.
She abruptly stopped typing, and just stared at the screen. She had waited a long time to hear him say her name again. She both hoped to hear it, and hoped she would never hear his voice again.
She began typing again, and without looking at him asked, 'What?'
'I need to talk to you Amy. I need your help.' He said over the clicking of the computer keys.
'What do you want Webb?' she said, still typing, trying to ignore him, and talk to him at the same time.
'Oh, we are back to Webb are we?' he jokingly said, trying to lighten the conversation.
She stopped and finally looked at him. If she wore glasses, it would have been a stern look over the rim of the glasses. As it was, it was still a stern look, with eyebrows raised. 'I repeat, what do you want?'
All business, all right, he could be all business too. 'You,' he said, and wished he meant it personally, not professionally. 'I am putting together a team for a special op, and I need a communications officer.'
'I'm in security now.' She answered, and turned back to her computer. She hoped he would take the hint and leave. She was not that lucky.
'You were a communications officer.' He stated.
'Were.' She interrupted. 'No, Webb. Don't drag me into one of your ops. It would be a bad idea.'
Clay was not going to give up so easily. She should know that, he thought. 'I can have your CO order you to be assigned to this mission.'
At that, Amy's phone rang on her desk. As she reached to answer it, Clayton smiled, and said, 'Right on cue.'
'Harris. Yes. Yes Ma'am.' She said, and hung up the phone.
'Your CO.' he stated.
Amy did not answer. She got up, and walked out of her office, heading down the corridor to her CO's office. Webb was right behind her.
'Major Harris reporting as ordered, Ma'am.' Amy said as she entered the office, and stood at attention. Clayton entered the office behind her, and stood in what he hoped was a neutral position between the two women.
'At ease Major. I see you have met with Mr. Webb. Has he been telling you about the team he is putting together for a special op in Iraq, and how he wants you to be a part of that team?'
'He has, Ma'am.' Amy answered.
'Good. I have told him our office will give him our full support.' Her CO stated.
'Ma'am, may we talk, privately?' Amy asked, looking right at Clayton.
'I'll wait outside.' He said, and left the office.
'What is it Major?' the colonel asked.
'Ma'am, I respectfully request that someone else be assigned this duty.' Amy said. She really did not want to be part of any op that involved Webb. The thought of having to work with him in close quarters, take orders from him, just be around him, was more than Amy could handle right now. She had just begun to get over him, and what he meant to her. To have to be around him everyday would be just too much.
'Major, may I remind you that our agency, and the CIA are working together to keep our country safe. Any collaboration between our offices is very important, to this department, to this agency, and to the country.' She stopped there to let it sink in. 'We are at war Major. We don't get to pick and choose where we go, and what we do.'
'I know that Ma'am, I just...' Amy tried to explain but the CO interrupted her.
'Suck it up Marine. I am aware of a personal history between you and Webb, but you are just going to have to deal with it. As of tomorrow you are T.A.D. to Mr. Webb's team, and you will fulfill your duties as any Marine would. Do you understand!' the last part, being shouted as an order.
'YES, Ma'am!' Amy answered, snapping to attention.
'Dismissed'
'Yes, Ma'am!' Amy turned and exited the office, closing the door behind her. Waiting in the outer office was Clayton. He at least had the decency to wipe the 'I told you so' look off his face as she came out, though Amy did catch a glimpse of a smirk.
She started walking back toward her office, and Clayton again, fell in step behind her. She waited until they both entered her small office, then she shut the door behind him, and let him have it.
'This is a bad idea Webb, but I have my orders. One question though, why me?'
'I want the best, that's you. I need a communications officer, who speaks Farci, has ties with the Marine Corps, and who I can trust. Not necessarily in that order.' He answered.
'There is no one in the whole of CIA that fits that description?' she asked sarcastically.
'As I said, I need someone I can trust. There is only a few people at Langley who will even know we are over there. We will be gathering information on the whereabouts and actions of a particularly dangerous group of guerillas, operating in Northern Iraq. Our job will be to report on their numbers, actions, movements, and possibly bring in Marine 'choppers to take them out. Otherwise it will be intelligence gathering. They seem to target our troops quite well, and there have been reports of missing agents in the area. We are afraid that someone along the line is leaking information to this group. That is part of our mission too, if possible, find out their contact. We are going to be very busy.'
'Fine, but lets get somethings straight.' Amy began. If she had to work with him, there were going to be some ground rules. 'I will be the communications officer, and fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities. But I do not and will not be a 'friend' working with you WEBB. Don't buddy up to me, don't talk to me outside of my duties, and generally stay out of my way.'
'Fine' he answered.
'Fine' she answered back.
'Be at Langley at 800 hours tomorrow. Have a field bag packed for up to 3 weeks. There will be a briefing, then we board the plane for Baghdad at noon.'
'Yes Sir.' She said sarcastically.
Clayton moved to leave the office. As he opened the door, she called him back.
'Webb.' He turned to look at her.
'Who else is invited to this little party of yours?'
'I am on my way now to invite Harm and Sarah.' Clayton answered. 'As I said, I need people I can trust on this one.'
'I should have known' was all Amy said as he left the office.
The next morning
CIA Headquarters, Langley VA
0800 hours local time
Webb and his team were all on time. As Amy entered the conference room, she saw that Harm and Sarah were already there, and Clayton began the meeting right away. Harm and Sarah didn't look too happy about being dragged into this op any more than Amy, but here they all were, ready to serve their country.
Clayton moved through the information quickly. Their mission basically was to track this group of insurgents, and gain any and all information on them that they could. Most of the work would be done at night. Harm, Sarah and Clayton would be a team that went out into the hills, and report back to a communications truck, manned by Amy, any information they could. The three of them would stay pretty close together, and each night they would go in the enemy's territory in a different direction, looking for their prey. After each patrol, they would report back to a Marine base, where they could get supplies, and some rest before going out again the next night.
The Marine Corps had small patrols in the area that Webb's team would be adjacent to. These Marine patrols were mobile, and had similar orders. To watch for insurgent groups and take them out with back up from a Marine chopper unit also in the area. Clay handed each of them a file with the information on the guerilla group for them to read and memorize on the flight over. Once Clay had said this, Amy asked, with a smile 'After reading it, should we eat it? You know, destroy the evidence?' They had been sitting there all morning, all being very serious, and she couldn't stand it anymore. Sarah hid a smile, and Harm looked the other way. The joke was ignored by Webb, who just stared at Amy. 'Sorry' she said. 'Couldn't help myself.'
Once the details were filled in, they left Langley, and headed for Andrews Air Force base to catch their military flight to Baghdad. The plane had few seats, it was mostly taking over supplies, but there was a small cabin, and they would be relatively comfortable on their long flight. There would be no stopovers; they would be refueled as needed in the air.
Amy had been pretty cold to Clayton so far. He couldn't really blame her. But he was hoping they could come to some form of civility during the trip. In their line of work, they were bound to run into each other, and a working relationship would be better than this cold reception he had gotten so far. As they were settling into their seats, he placed his smaller bag in the seat beside Amy's, and was arranging his luggage above. He hoped he could at least sit beside her, for a while, and try and talk with her. As he moved the bag and was about to sit down she said...'Ah, excuse me.' Clayton looked at her.
'Is this seat taken?' he asked with a smile.
'There are other seats. Go over there and sit.' She indicated an empty seat across the isle and one row up.
'Amy, come on. You expect to keep this up the whole time?' referring to her wish that he keep his distance.
'Clayton, you are the one who made the choice in the first place.'
'Amy this is going to be a hard enough mission, can't we just get along?' Clay asked.
'Fine. You really want to sit here? Excuse me." For a minute he thought she might relent, but then she grabbed her knapsack, and pushed him out of the way, and went and sat down in the seat she had indicated for him a minute ago.
She sat down and began arranging her things for the flight.
Harm and Sarah had watched the whole thing and waited for Clayton to make the next move. He simply sat down in the seat Amy had just vacated, and began settling in himself.
Harm and Sarah looked at each other, and silently exchanged the thought; 'This is going to be a long trip.'
Hours into the flight
Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean
They had each brought reading material, official and recreational. They had brought food for the flight, and by now they had tried to get as comfortable as possible to try and get some rest. The cabin was quiet. Clayton's light over his seat was still on, as he did paper work, and he was interrupted by Harm, sitting down in the seat next to him.
'What are you thinking Clay? Bringing her along.' Harm asked.
'I wanted her to be part of the team. I can trust her, and she is a good communications officer who speaks Farci.' Clayton answered.
'She either still loves you, or she hates you. I happen to think it is a little of both.' Harm stated.
Clay did not have an answer for that, and kept quiet.
'Are you sure you did not ask her along because you still want to be with her? You've done that before. Taken someone on an op just because you want to be with them.' Harm said, referring to Paraguay and his time with Sarah there.
'Oh give me a brake! I am not going to make the same mistakes again Harm. I did what I had to with Amy. I just hope we can work out some kind of...professional relationship and find some common ground.'
'You broke her heart, Clay. Do you think it is fair to ask her to meet you on some 'common ground' now? You are kidding yourself, and hurting her more. I give her a lot of credit to put up with you on this trip. I don't know if I would in her place.'
'I did her a favor Harm.'
'Yeah, maybe you did do her a favor.' He agreed. With that Harm go up and went back to his seat, turned off his light, and tried to stretch out his 6 foot frame as much as possible to try and get some rest.
Clay looked at Sarah. She was curled up in the seat next to Harm like a cat. Sleeping very peacefully. He couldn't see Amy since she was in the row ahead of him. Just as well, Clay thought. He had watched her sleep plenty of times, and it would just hurt to watch her sleep now.
It was a good thing that Clayton could not see Amy. He would be surprised that her eyes were open, and they were filled with tears. She had overheard what Harm had said, and appreciated the support. She wasn't sure how she was going to get through the next weeks, having to be around Clay every day. Hear him say her name, watch him work, see his face with those green eyes and dimples. Suck it up Marine, she told herself. She will get through this, and get on with life. And he was not going to see any tears out of her. She wiped the last one off her face, and closed her eyes to try and sleep before they landed, and got to work.
Somewhere in Northern Iraq
US Marine Camp
1742 local time
They landed in Iraq, and immediately got on a chopper to be flown to the Marine camp that would serve as their base of operations. The camp was a group of tents, pitched near one small building that was serving as an office for the senior officer, a communications room, and a mess area under a roof for cooking and serving meals to the Marines. The soldiers had set up a small tent, a little removed from the others with two cots for Sarah and Amy to sleep in. Someone had put a sign on the outside declaring the humble tent 'Female Officer Quarters'. They were both very appreciative. Sarah was tired from the long flight, and laid down to get some rest. Amy tried to sleep, but couldn't. She decided to walk around the camp, and get her barring. Maybe go over to the communications room and meet some of the men, and see if the truck was ready. As she left the tent, and started walking around, Clay saw her, and started over in her direction. When Amy saw him coming toward her, she stopped, and decided to wait for him. There was really no place to run anyway.
'Amy, can't we call a truce?' Clay said as he came up to her.
'A truce? Like, be civil to each other? No.' Amy said flatly.
"Oh please. I just want to feel safe out in the field. I don't want to worry about being shot in the back.' Clay said. He didn't really believe she would do that. Then again...
Amy smiled. 'I hadn't thought of that, good idea.'
'Amy...' Clay started, but she interrupted him. 'Look, you want to be friends, I can't just be friends. This is very tough for me. I am not used to ending a relationship with someone, and then having them order me over seas for a covert operation.'
'Can't we just agree to get along? For the duration of the mission? For the good of the mission?' Clay reasoned.
'Maybe for Harm and Sarah's sake, but not yours.' She answered.
'Thank you for that anyway. I never stopped caring about you, you know. I can't just turn off my emotions the way you think I can.' Clay had not expected to say that, but he wasn't sorry he had said it. Maybe it will help smooth things over, and allow them to become friends, in some manner.
'Could have fooled me.' Amy said coldly.
They stood looking at each other a moment, each trying to meet somewhere half way. Clay spoke first. 'So you won't shoot me in the back?' he asked hopefully.
'No, I won't shoot you in the back. Maybe I'll just wing ya.' She said with a wink and walked away.
Clay was not completely sure whether he should be relived, or more worried by that last remark.
The team began their patrols the next night. They had found some camps where a group had fires, and found truck tires near by, but they never say any groups of people moving about at night, or camped out. Each morning the four of them would come back to the Marine camp, have breakfast with the troops, and go back to their separate tents to sleep during the day. Each evening they would wake up, eat again, and head out in a different direction looking for the guerillas. Whenever they set out, they were both hopeful they would find what they were looking for, and nervous that they would find the guerillas, and what they would do then.
One morning, as they are eating a meal before hitting the sack they were all a bit punchy and laughing about their favorite old movies.
Clay started talking about a movie he had seen with Amy titled "The Russians are coming!" He remembered it had struck him as very funny, set in the cold war era, and how the town had been afraid of the Russians and how the Russians had been afraid of the Americans. Harm and Sarah were not familiar with the movie, and Clay was describing it, but could not remember how it had ended.
Amy remembered that they never finished watching it. Clay had started kissing her, touching her, and they had ended up in the bedroom. It was one of the weekends they had spent at her place, and it had been very special to Amy. She got very quiet while Clay talked about the movie. Clay had not noticed, and asked Amy, 'How did it end, I don't remember seeing the end.'
She gave him a short answer, 'The towns people and Russians have to work together to save a little boy off the roof of a church.'
'I don't remember that. How did I miss that?' Clay asked a bit confused.
'I don't know.' Amy said. 'I'm tired, I'm going to hit the sack.' She got up and headed for the tent she shared with Sarah.
As Amy got up to leave, Clay suddenly remembered why he never saw the end of the movie. It was one of those times when he could not get enough of Amy. How she smelled, how she felt in his arms. Sitting close to her, watching the movie was too much, and he had to have her. He had switched off the TV, picked her up, and took her to the bedroom. The smile faded from his face as he remembered how that had felt, and how he missed being with her. Sharing the closeness and tenderness they had together.
Sarah also noticed how the conversation had suddenly changed, and felt uncomfortable in the silence. She offered an excuse, 'Knowing you Clay, you probably got called into the office. That's what usually happens.'
'Yeah. That was probably it.' He agreed quietly. 'I think I will hit the sack too.' With that he got up and left the table too. He began walking across the camp to his tent, and saw Amy still walking toward hers. She wore the dessert camouflage uniform, that looked just a little to big, and a floppy, full brimmed hat. Clay had never liked those hats, thought they looked equally silly on everyone. But on Amy, it looked good; sort of cute somehow. Clay wanted to walk over, and tell her he remembered that afternoon now too, when they had watched the movie, and never finished it. But what good would it do? What would be the point? That was over for both of them now. Clay turned, and walked to his tent, to try and get some sleep.
Somewhere in Northern Iraq
That night
2210 local time
They had driven in the truck a couple of hours to reach the next take off point. Clay had driven as usual, and parked the truck in a clearing at the base of a hill. All four of them got out of the truck, and began putting on their gear; Amy came out too, to help Sarah get everything strapped on. The three of them were quiet, but Amy was talkative tonight.
'You all be careful out there. Be good, and play nice with the guerillas. Write if you find work.' She said in a very motherly tone.
'We'll be careful.' Harm said with a smile, and started toward the hill. Sarah followed behind him. Their objective tonight was to roam around the string of hills in this area, and from this vantage point see if there was any activity. Amy as always would stay in the truck, and keep the communications open. It would be harder for her tonight with the hills, but she knew she could do it.
Clay approached Amy and said to her, 'Try and keep contact with flight ops tonight, we may need them.' Somehow he had a feeling something was going to happen tonight. Or maybe he was hoping for something to happen. So far this mission had discovered nothing.
'Yes, Sir.' Amy said with a mock salute.
Clay stayed serious. 'You be careful too.'
'I'll be fine Clay. Don't worry about me.' Amy said. And with that she turned and got into the truck. Clay followed Harm and Sarah up the hill.
The three in the field kept contact with each other, and with Amy by radio. Amy also kept contact with the Marine choppers who were their backup should they need it. Harm, Sarah and Clay split up and began looking for movement as they had for several nights, but so far had seen nothing. They were not far apart, and kept tabs on each other through the night. After a few hours of no contact with the enemy, Clay made the decision that they would stay in this area another 30 minutes or so, then move off in another direction.
At the truck, Amy saw something move outside through the windshield. She just saw it out of the corner of her eye, and tried to look harder, but could not see anything now. Maybe it was nothing, or just an animal, she told herself. She looked back at her instruments.
There it was again. Amy looked out the windshield and saw a face. Only it did not belong to Harm or Sarah or Clay. 'Oh oh.' She said out loud.
Clay heard it over his radio and asked, 'What is it?'
'I have company.' Amy said.
Clay's hair stood straight up on the back of his neck. 'Friendlies?' he asked hopefully. It could be another Marine patrol, though something told him deep down it wasn't.
'No, I don't think so. They are shouting at the truck in Farsi.' Amy said, and as she said it, Clay heard gunfire.
Clay started moving and talking quickly. 'Stay in the truck. We are on our way.' He was running to the point on top of the hill where the three of them had split up hours before, and where they could see the truck at the bottom of the hill.
When Clay got there, Harm was already there, and Sarah joined them quickly. Harm had pulled out his night goggles, and was looking down at the truck. He could see that the guerillas had surrounded the truck, and had begun shooting at it, breaking the windshield, bursting the tires and breaking antennas. They were shouting orders to whoever was inside. Harm started counting, and was getting more nervous as the numbers grew. More of them seemed to be moving in from the road behind the truck.
Clay barely paused at the top, before he turned, and began running down the trail that lead to the truck. Sarah saw him heading down and called after him, 'Clay stop.' When Harm heard this, he put down his goggles, and got up to go after Clay. He grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him back. 'Clay, wait, there are too many of them.'
Sarah was trying to get Amy on the radio, using her code name. 'Birds nest, do you copy? Birds nest what is your status?'
Clay and Harm watched her, and listened for Amy's reply. 'Birds nest is fine.'
They all began breathing again, then Clay got on. 'Birds nest, stay put. Repeat, stay where you are, we are on our way.'
Harm looked sideways at him. 'Do you have a plan? Do you know how many there are down there? I stopped counting at 23, but there is more than that down there. We don't have the weapons to deal with that many, and we can't raise the choppers on our radios.'
As he said this, Amy was speaking to them too. 'Negative, Negative. Stay where you are. I am trying to contact eagle flight.' using the code name for the Marine chopper back up. She did not know that the guerillas had shot off the antennas, and satellite dish she needed to contact the Marines.
Harm, Sarah and Clay waited a few more tense moments to see if she could get through. 'No luck.' She said. 'Will keep trying.'
Clay shouted into his radio, 'Stay inside. Keep trying.' His heart was racing. He couldn't think. He had to get down there; he had to protect her. He started moving toward the trail again, and Harm grabbed him again. 'You can't go down there, Clay, they'll kill you!'
Clay shouted back at him, 'They are going to kill her!'
'You don't' know that for sure.' Harm was desperate to try and save Clay from killing himself and them in a rescue attempt. He didn't know how they were going to get out of this, but they had to keep their heads and come up with a plan, quick.
Amy's voice came over the radio one more time. 'You stay put. There are too many of them. Stay out of sight, and get back to the base. Go for help. You three are my best chance....' An explosion cut her off.
The three on the hill covered their heads, then moved to the edge to see what had happened below. It was possible a grenade had exploded near the truck. There was a fire under the hood, and a lot of black smoke billowing out from under the truck. They watched helplessly as two men shot at the back door to the truck, and covering part of their faces from the smoke, go inside. In a moment they came out of the truck dragging Amy between them and threw her to the ground.
Harm Mac and Clay could see that Amy was doubled over in pain, coughing out the smoke from the truck. Another man came over to her and picked her up by the coat front and shouted something to her in Farsi. Harm, and Clay looked at Sarah for a translation, but she shook her head. The man is too far away to understand what he is saying to Amy. She was limp, her head was hanging back, and her body was still wracked by the coughs. The man dropped her back to the ground, and started issuing orders to the men.
Clay turned quickly and started moving toward the trail again, saying as much to himself as to Mac and Harm, 'I have to get down there.' Harm stepped in front of him, blocking his way. 'What are you going to do?'
'I'm going to trade myself for Amy. Try and save her life.'
'They'll kill you, and keep Amy. Or, take both of you away and we'll have two people to try and find.' Harm insisted.
'She stands a better chance of staying alive with me there than alone.' Clay answered.
Sarah approached them saying to Clay, 'I can't let you go down there and be prisoner again.'
'I'll be all right. I can't watch them take her away. I have to help her.'
Harm tried another track. 'Amy was right. We are her only chance now for rescue. We have to go back to the base and get help.'
More shots were fired, and all arguments stopped as the three of them looked back over the edge of the hill to see what is going on. Clay's heart was pounding, was she dead already?
No, he saw that Amy was sitting up, and a man was tying her hands together in front of her. It was time to go. 'Rabb, get out of my way.' He ordered.
'I won't' was Harm's answer.
'What if they had Sarah? You'd move heaven and earth to save her.' Clay said.
'But I would not jeopardize others' lives in the process. That is what you are doing with us.' Harm reasoned. 'We won't let you go down there alone and get killed. Besides, there is no guarantee they would give Amy up for you. You go running in there now, you both are dead. Then they'll come looking for us.'
They watched helplessly as the soldiers began moving off, in the direction they had come. Amy was in the middle of the group. Another rope was tied to her hands, and they were using in like a leash to bring her along. Clay knew Harm was right, but watching Amy being taken away was more than he could bare.
Once the area was clear, Harm, Clay and Sarah made their way carefully down the trail to the burned out truck. Harm and Sarah went over to the truck to see if there was a chance that any of the radio equipment still worked, or if there was anything salvageable that they could use.
Clay walked over to the place in the dirt Amy had laid minutes ago. She had lost her camouflage cap, the floppy one. He picked it up from the dirt and held it. There was something sticky on one side, and he turned it over. Blood. A big blot of it on one side some had gotten on his hand. Amy had a head wound; his mind registered the fact. Probably when the grenade went off, shook the truck, she hit her head. His heart didn't take it quite so coolly. She's injured and in the hands of an insurgent guerrilla group? What have I done?
Clay folded the cap very carefully and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. Harm came up to him and told Clay there was nothing left of the truck they could use. They would have to walk back to the marine base camp, and the sooner they started, the sooner they could get help for Amy.
'We better get moving, Clay, before any other soldiers come through.' Harm said. He was not sure Clay had heard anything he said, but they needed to get moving. The more ground they could cover while it was still night, the better. Clay only nodded and let Harm take his arm and point him down the road. Clay barely saw or heard anything. All he could see for sure was Amy being lead away by a rope.
Marine Base Camp
Northern Iraq
1117 local time
The three stumbled into the camp late morning after walking all night. They had rested a few times, but all three new of the urgency to get back with the Marines, and start searching for Amy. There was very little talk between them in the early hours of the morning. Both Harm and Mac had tried to engage Clay in some kind of conversation, but as time went on, Clay became quieter, and more determined to get to their destination, and get to work.
When they arrived at the camp, the made their way to the one building, and reported to the camp CO, Colonel Fred Rickert. They had not had too much contact with the CO before this. Clay's team had pretty much kept to themselves, and did their work in the midst of the Marines. But now, they needed his help. When they entered, Clay got down to business.
'Colonel Rickert. We were ambushed last night, and one of my team was captured. We need your help to begin a search of the area.' Clay said.
Colonel Rickert began asking his own questions. 'Who is it? How long ago did this happen?'
'Major Amelia Harris, USMC, the communications officer. It happened early this morning. We have been walking back all night. The truck was blown up, there was nothing left that was usable.' Clay stated coolly.
'Hours ago? Are you sure Harris is still alive Webb?' the Colonel asked.
'Yes.' Clay insisted. He would not even consider any other possibility. 'We need choppers to go back over the sight of the attack, and see if we can pick up their trail. There was approximately 25 to 30 guerrillas, moving on foot. We should be able to tell which way they were headed in the day light.
Clay and the Colonel and Harm started looking at maps of the area, and making search plans. Two choppers would be sent up, one with Harm in it, and one with Clay. They would fly back over the attach area, and split up at the sight of the truck to begin looking for the direction the guerrillas went with Amy. With any luck, they would find the trail, and follow it to their camp, and take them out, and rescue Amy. The Colonel and Sarah would stay in camp, and monitor the search from there, keeping contact with both choppers, and any ground troops or extra back up that might be needed.
The plan seemed sound, and straight forward. Clay was hopeful they could find her quickly. It felt good to be doing something positive finally, after all night of walking and worrying. He felt energized, and was ready to blow the whole group of insurgents away if they harmed Amy.
But as the hours passed, no trail was picked up, no sign of where the guerrillas had gone, or where they were now, was discovered. It was growing dark, and the chopper pilots were getting worried themselves. They were getting desperately low on fuel. The pilot warned Mr. Webb again that they had to head back, before they were out of fuel completely. 'Just one more circle, please Captain.' Webb asked. The Captain felt the pain Webb was feeling. It seemed a little more than what a regular CO would feel for a person under their command who was captured. The Captain felt bad for the missing Marine Major too, but they were all going to be MIA if they didn't head back now.
'I'm truly sorry Mr. Webb, but we have to go back now. Or we are all going to be missing.' The Captain told him, as he made the turn to go back to the base.
Clay knew they had to go. But he felt like he was leaving her all over again. Where could she be? How could that large a group of armed men just disappear into the night? For that is what it felt like. They had just disappeared into the dark, and Amy was with them.
Along the road in Northern Iraq
An hour after sunrise, that same morning
Amy was exhausted. At other times in her life she had felt exhausted, and had said she was exhausted, but what she felt now, was so much worse. Every part of her hurt; her head throbbed, her arms were so sore from being pulled all night she thought she would never be able to move them again. Her hands and wrists hurt and bled from being tied together. And her feet...
The men that lead her had walked, no, jogged most of the night along a track, it couldn't even be called a road, it was just two tire tracks in the dirt. They had stopped twice for five minutes each time to catch their collective breath, before they moved again. At each stop the men pulled out canteens, and some even had food, but no one made a move to give her any water. On the first stop, Amy had fell to the ground to rest, when one of the men came over and kicked her a couple of times, just to get a reaction from her. He spoke to her in Farsi, and she understood him, but had decided not to let on she understood their language. She might be able to pick up information if they talked freely in front of her. He called her names, and insulted her, and she just rolled up in a tighter ball to try and protect herself. He was trying to look like a big man in front of the others, and look tough to her, when he decided to make her life a little worse, he had said. He took out a knife, and sliced through the laces on her boots. Then he pulled them off, and threw them into the rocks, followed by her socks. This was met by cheers, and laughs by his fellow soldiers, as they dragged her up by the rope and started down the road again. The rest of the night, Amy had marched barefoot over rocky terrain, stumbling trying to keep up. He feet became bruised, and cut, and still they kept going. She had worked hard to stop thinking about the pain, and concentrate on moving, one foot then the other, down the track. They wouldn't march her to death, would they? It didn't matter. She wasn't going to die. She would just keep moving.
Now they had made another stop, this time for longer than 5 minutes. Amy took the time to catch her breath, and try to get as much rest as possible, before anything else happened. None of the men came over to check on her, or to bother her, and she counted that as a blessing at this point. The one that had shouted the most orders during the night, the leader she had decided, came over to look at her once, but she barley noticed.
With her head on the ground, she heard them coming. A vehicle, maybe two, moving down the road toward them. For a second she thought maybe it could be US, but when the men did not seem too troubled about the approaching vehicle, were not running for cover, she doubted it was the US. Probably just more of them.
It was two trucks, old troop carriers. They stopped and the men began pulling themselves into them. Thank God, Amy prayed. No more marching. She did not even think about where they were taking her, or how far. Just that she did not have to walk anymore. Two men came over to her and picked her up, by the shoulders and knees, and threw her into the back of one of the trucks like a sack of potatoes. The rest of the men boarded the truck, leaving her on the floor, stepping over her, giving her a kick now and then to move her out of their way. When they were all on board, the trucks were put into gear, and started driving down the road. They were on the move again.
Marine Base Camp
Northern Iraq
2105 local time
The choppers carrying Harm and Clay landed, they got off, and slowly headed for the command building. It was fully dark now, and colder, now that the sun was down.
As soon as Harm entered the building, Sarah got up and went to him. He enfolded her in his arms, and they just stood there. Sarah looked wiped out, Clay thought, and felt badly that he was putting them all through this ordeal. He could just barely hear that Sarah had begun to cry, and Harm was whispering to her, trying to comfort her. 'She'll be all right. She's a strong, tough marine. We did what we had to do. We will find her Sarah.' Clay sincerely hoped so. He left them alone for a moment and went into another room to find Colonel Rickert.
He was at his desk, just hanging up a phone. He looked at Clay, and Clay could tell there was bad news coming. 'I'm glad you are back. I was going have to call you in anyway. I have new orders.' He stopped there, looked up as Harm and Sarah joined them. Harm still had his arm around Sarah, and she was leaning on him for support. The Colonel continued. 'We are a mobile unit, and have been ordered to break this camp, and move to another location. Tonight.'
'Why tonight, Colonel?' Harm asked. His tired mind was having trouble connecting the dots. There was something more going on here, he could feel it.
Clay answered the question for the Colonel. He had expected this, and had hoped he would have more time. 'Amy knows this location and she is in enemy hands.'
Sarah spoke up in her friend's defense. 'She would never talk!'
'It is standard procedure, Colonel MacKenzie.' Rickert answered. 'They'd move this camp if I was taken or the lowest private was taken. It's no reflection on Major Harris.'
Clay stayed on the task at hand. 'When do you move?' he asked.
'We are packing up non-essentials now and moving them out. The rest will go out at first light.' Rickert answered.
'Then we will refuel, and go back up. I want to check further north and follow a road I saw...' Clay began, but was cut off by Rickert.
'I'm sorry Mr. Webb. There is more. Along with the orders to evacuate, orders came down to cease all search operations for Major Harris.'
All three piped up at that pronouncement. 'What?' 'No, you can't be serious.' 'No, they can't order us to stop...'
Colonel Rickert talked over them. 'You all have been ordered back home. This came direct from Washington.'
'No way.' Clay declared. 'I'm not leaving. How can they just leave her?' he shouted.
'They are not abandoning her.' Rickert stated. 'The Iraqi Provisional Government wants to be in charge of negotiating the release.'
'Negotiate?' Clay asked.
'Washington and the Iraqis feel the guerillas will make contact and try to use the Major as leverage in a prisoner exchange, or something.' Rickert explained.
Clay was furious. He could not believe this was happening, had the whole world gone mad? 'That's insane. These people don't negotiate with anyone. They don't recognize any government, provisional or otherwise. They are ruthless terrorists whose only goal is to cause pain and suffering to the US and get them out of Iraq and the Middle East!'
'Clay, calm down.' Harm said. 'This won't get us anywhere.'
Clay turned on him. 'Its true. No one will be contacted.'
'It is possible.' Colonel Rickert suggested. 'A Marine Major, a woman, is a lot of leverage. They will get attention in the international media to make themselves known and feared, and get what they want.'
Harm agreed. 'And if they did want leverage, and an exchange, it would be in their best interest not to hurt Amy while they have her.'
Clay was still mad. 'It will already be in their best interest not to hurt her, because if they harm one hair on her head, they'll face me, and Allah help them then.'
Sarah spoke up. 'This is all just speculation so far. We don't even know who has her.'
'We can only wait, and hope they make contact for a trade of some kind.' Rickert said.
Harm asked, 'How long do we wait? How long will the US wait for the Iraqis to try and handle this themselves? Isn't time important here for Amy's safety?'
'The standard is 72 hours.' Clay answered him. 'These types usually move on and kill any prisoners after about 3 days. They question them...' he didn't want to think about what they might do to her. He knew plenty of ways to break a prisoner, had used some means himself at times, and had it done to him as well. He blocked that possibility out of his mind for now. He would not be able to think straight if he thought about what could happen to Amy. 'It has been about 24 hours already, since she was taken.'
They were all silent at that. Then Rickert spoke up. 'At daylight, a chopper will take you back to the airstrip. You will board a plane there and head home.'
Clay dismissed this plan. 'No. I'm going out again. I want to check that road.'
'Mr. Webb,' Rickert began. 'I can't let you do that.'
'I'll just take a humvee.'
'No' Rickert said. 'I have my orders. You will leave on the plane in the morning with the others, and my Marines and I will move out. We have our orders.' He left the three of them alone.
'They have taken it out of our hands, Clay' Harm said. He hated the idea of leaving, but there was no more the three of them could do for Amy, not without back up. He tried to convince Clay. He looked so determined to do something, and that scared Harm. 'If more military or intelligence people are caught poking around it could jeopardize any negotiations. And I don't need to tell you that if you get caught by guerillas, CIA would leave you and Amy behind in a minute. It would become Webb and Harris who? We have no knowledge or operatives with those names.'
'This is a nightmare.' Clay said shaking his head. When was he going to wake up and find that this was all a nightmare? What had he done? How could he do this to her?
Sarah walked over to him. 'I know. There's nothing we can do. The safest thing we can do for Amy now is go home. Go over the Intel we did gather. We all saw them, maybe we can help identify them, report on what we saw, and it might help find her.' She wasn't sure she was making sense, but she was trying to keep Clay from going out alone.
Clay looked at her, hopelessness stamped on his face. 'Look for Amy while in Washington? It's small comfort Sarah.' And he walked out of the room.
Sarah looked back at Harm with a hurt look in her eyes. 'Don't take it hard.' He told her. 'I'm sure he didn't mean it.'
'I know.' She said. 'He blames himself for this. When we were in Paraguay, he promised me he would do anything he could to protect me. He was ready to die for both of us if that would keep me save.'
Harm nodded. 'His mother told me he is very protective of those he loves.'
'Do you think he still loves her?' she asked.
'I know he does.' Harm said. 'And now he is helpless.'
Iraqi Base Camp
Northern Iraq
That same evening. After sundown.
The trucks came to a stop, and after all the men had gotten out of the truck, the last two grabbed Amy, and pulled her out, and to her feet. She crouched in pain, but they did not wait for her. They grabbed the rope still tied to her wrists, and pulled her to a building. They pushed and pulled her down a short flight of stairs, and pushed her into a room. Looking around, as they untied her hands, the room reminded Amy of a storage room in her grandmother's basement. Dirt floor, one small window high up beside the ceiling, big wood door. Only this room was empty of any furniture or shelves. The leader had followed them inside.
He began talking as soon as the door was closed. 'You will be our guest here. You will give me the information I want, and I will negotiate your release. Give me no information, or try to trick me, and you will die in this room.'
Amy looked around her in what she hoped was a noncommittal way. Then came back to the leader. She was scared all right, but she'd be dammed if she was going to show fear to him.
'What were you doing in the truck?' he asked her.
Amy just looked at him.
"How many soldiers were with you?' he asked.
Silence.
'Did you not understand what I said woman? Answer my questions!' he shouted.
Amy smiled and laughed a little. 'Your really think I will answer your questions? I am a United States Marine Officer. Harris, Amelia, Major, and I don't answer terrorist's questions.' Before she had ended the sentence he rushed at her, grabbed her by her shoulders and slammed her against the stone wall. Her head banged on the stones, and she saw stars, and red haze. In a moment it cleared, and she saw his ugly face. He was yelling at her again.
'You think I am joking? You'll die here. Slowly and painfully if you do not answer my questions. Where is the Marine base you came from? How many Marines are there?'
When Amy's head cleared enough, she was tired of his shouting at her, so she spit in his face. He swore in his native tongue, and punched her with the back of his fist, sending her to the floor.
Amy lay there, thanking her big brother Peter for that little bit of street smart he had taught her when they were kids. Her head hurt worse now, and her ears were ringing. But her fear was gone. Let them hurt her. She was a Marine, and she would never give up her fellow Marines.
The leader spoke to the other men in Farsi, she hadn't quite caught what he said but she didn't want to let on she understood them. The other two men came over, and turned her on her back. They began pulling off her pants, and unbuttoning her jacket.
Now, Amy was getting very scared. Did they intend to rape her? They couldn't. She started to struggle, but it only got her more blows to the head and body. The leader was talking to her again. 'We will take a page out of the US interrogation book. You have special rooms where you put your prisoners and expose them to extreme temperatures. We don't have the special rooms, but we do have the desert.' The men had succeeded in taking all her clothes expect her boxer short underwear. She wore these since they were more comfortable under the rough material of her uniform. 'You may keep the men's' underwear, it is not necessary to leave her completely naked.' He told his men. 'Stand up' he ordered Amy.
The men pulled and pushed her into a standing position. She covered her breasts with her arms, and wished her body did not give her away with the gooseflesh that had come up with exposure to the cold air. It wasn't freezing, but it wasn't warm either.
'Maybe I should send you out to the middle of the compound like that, umm?' He smiled a sadistic smile. 'We have been fighting a long time, me and my men. They have not been home to see their wives.' He was beginning to see fear in her eyes finally and it pleased him. He would break her yet. 'However, to lie with an infidel woman is a grave sin and I will not put that temptation before my men.' He dismissed the other men from the room, and he turned to follow them, carrying her clothes. 'While the days in my country can be pleasant this time of year, the nights get very cold, and I am thankful for my campfire. We will sleep tonight, and will be gone tomorrow and into the next day. There will be enough men here to keep watch on you, never fear. After a couple of nights, enjoying our winter weather, maybe you will be ready to answer my questions.'
'Don't count on it.' Amy said between shivers, as the he left, and closed the door behind him. When she heard the bolt being pushed in she shouted. 'You call this winter? I'm from Wisconsin. We have real winters there!'
US Marine Base
Northern Iraq
0034 hours local time
Harm had gone back to the tent he shared with Clay and packed his few belongings to be ready to leave at first light. Then he lay down on his cot, and had hoped to get some sleep, but it wasn't that easy. He had been awake more than 24 hours, but he could not settle down. They were leaving, and Amy was still somewhere out there. Clay's words kept playing in his mind. If it were Sarah you would move heaven and earth. He would, he knew he would. But what could they do? They had no support, no backup, no idea where to look, no equipment...But they were leaving without her. Had he been right to stop Clay at the top of the hill? He wasn't so sure anymore.
Clay finally came in, but made no move to gather his belongings, or try and lay down to rest. He stood, looking out the screened window of the tent. 'Where have you been?' Harm asked.
'On the phone with Washington trying to stay. I can't. Then I went for a walk.' Clay answered in monotone voice. He sounded defeated.
'You should try and get some rest.' Harm suggested. He really didn't know what to say. What could anyone say? But Clay needed to rest. Harm wasn't sure what he was surviving on right now.
'I can't sleep.' Clay said. 'Every time I close my eyes I see that truck explode, or Amy being lead away on a leash.' He stopped there, then turned and looked at Harm. 'How much POW training did you get?' he asked.
'As a fighter, they train us pretty well.' Harm answered. He really could not remember how long it was, or how many subsequent courses he took in his career.
'How much training do you think Amy received?'
'The standard in basic training, and a few mandatory courses along the way. Probably not a lot.' Harm answered.
'We get weeks, and weeks.' Clay said. 'Tactics and techniques. The people in charge of that training interviewed me after Paraguay. They wanted to know how I took it. What I did to survive.'
'What did you do? Harm asked, wanting to keep him talking, let some of it out.
'I was protecting Sarah. If they were hurting me, they would stay away from her.' He paused, then went on with his thoughts. 'I know what they did to me. And I know what torture we use on our prisoners.'
Harm interrupted him here; maybe this was not a good conversation to be having right now. 'This group doesn't have the resources, the equipment.'
'No' Clay agreed. 'They'll use more primitive ways.'
'They may not do anything to her. They will need her healthy and unharmed to trade her with the US or Iraqi Government.' Harm reminded him.
'I hope you're right.' Clay said, looking back out the window. It was getting colder, and Clay shivered in the night air.
'Its getting cold, close the flap over the window.' Harm said. 'Lay down, try to rest some. There are a few more hours before daylight.'
Clay closed the flap, and lay down on the cot, but he never closed his eyes. He pulled out her cap from his jacket, and held in his hands. He felt the need to hold onto something, everything else seemed to be slipping away.
Storage Room
Iraqi Base Camp
0050 hours local time
Amy spent the night shivering beside the inside wall of the room. Her head and feet ached. She kept trying to sleep, but the shivers wracking her body didn't let sleep come. In the morning, she thought, the sun will come up and it will be warmer. I can get some rest then. It will be warmer, and I will be fine. She tried to remember the feel of the summer sun on her family farm in Wisconsin. How hot it would get in the barn with the horses. Yeah, think about the barn, and the horses. Dad and Peter. She had to see them again. She will get through this.
She thought about Harm, and Sarah and Clay. She hoped they had gotten back safely to the Marine base. Maybe they were out looking for her right now. She and Clay may have had their problems, but he would never leave her out here. 'Oh, Clay. Wh..Where are you? PPPPlease Clay.' She whispered in the dark.
US Marine Base Camp
Northern Iraq
0335 local time
Clay nudged Harm awake. 'Time to get moving if we are going to make our flight.'
Harm opened his eyes; surprised to discover he had fallen asleep at all. He looked closely at Clay. He looked beaten, like he had lost everything. Harm thought again that maybe he had been wrong to stop Clay when Amy was captured. But if both had been captured, the US would disavow both of them. As it stood now, there was some hope to get Amy back save through negotiations. Right now, Clay looked like he had no hope for anything. Harm struggled for something to say to help his friend, but what? He finally settled for 'Did you get any sleep?'
'What do you think?' came the surly answer. It was obvious he had not.
The two men made their way out of the tent, and toward the choppers. It seemed the evacuation was winding down. There was not much left of the tent village and vehicles that had been there a few hours before. Harm asked if Clay wanted to get something to eat before they left but Clay just kept on walking.
Harm went over to what used to be the kitchen. A couple of privates were handing out instant coffee and sandwiches to the troops who were still left. He met Sarah there, and they both got something to eat, then headed for the choppers. Clay was in one already, strapped in and ready to go. Once Harm and Sarah were settled, they took off for the short flight to the airstrip, where they would meet up with the plane that would take them home. All three of them keenly felt the absence of the fourth member of their team, and there was little talk in the chopper.
When they arrived at the airstrip, they gathered their things off the chopper, to take to the plane. Clay noticed that Harm had two bags, while Sarah grabbed another one, and the food. The bag Sarah held had the name HARRIS stamped on it. Clay really looked at Sarah for the first time this morning. She looked like she had a rough night too. 'That Amy's?' he asked her, nodding toward the bag in Sarah's hand. 'Yes. I thought I would bring it home for her. Hold onto it till she gets back.' Sarah said quietly, hoping that it would be true.
Clay held out his hand. 'Let me take it. I'll take care of it.'
'Its no problem...' Sarah began.
'Please.' Was all Clay said. It was obvious to Sarah that he needed to hold her bag of belongings. Clay needed that tangible thing that said this is her's and she would need it later, because she was coming back.
Sarah handed him the bag and they boarded the plane.
It was the same plane that brought them here, and Harm and Sarah took the same seats they had on the first flight. Clay sat in the seat Amy had sat in on that flight that seemed ages ago, not just a few days. He told himself it was because he didn't want Harm and Sarah to be watching him all the way home, but he knew deep inside it was a little more than that. They were supposed to stow their gear under the seats, but Clay kept Amy's bag beside him. He just wasn't ready to part with it yet.
The engines started, and the plane taxied to the end of the runway and turned into the wind. A voice inside of Clayton's head was screaming 'You are leaving her! They will kill her and you are leaving her here alone!' As the engines got louder to prepare for take off, so did the voice. His heart raced, and his hands were damp and started shaking. They had not done that for a long time, he thought. 'She's alone.' The voice cried. 'Clayton, Clayton.' Then it was Amy's voice, calling him 'Clay, Clayton.' As the plane lifted into the air, and the wheels made their last touch with the ground, Clay whispered, 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'
The voice was silent. There was only the sound of the engines, taking him away.
Storage Room
Iraqi Base Camp
Sunrise
When the sun came up, there was light in the room from the window. Amy spent the day, following the patch of light on the floor, thinking that it gave her some warmth. She tried to rest, and also did some floor exercises to keep the blood flowing, and keep warm. She was too bruised, and weak to do too much.
Amy was left alone through the day. She heard activity and voices through the window above, but could not see anything outside. She never heard anyone enter the building she was in either. No one came to hurt her, but no one came to give her any food or water either. She tried to make some escape plans, but knew without any clothes, she would probably die of exposure in the open at night. And there were too many soldiers around to try and sneak out in daylight. Since the ride in the truck, she didn't even know where she was, and wouldn't know which direction to go to find help. Besides she was too weak to do more than move about the small room. No, escape was not going to work right now, not without some help. Would help come? Were Clay, and Harm and Sarah safe and looking for her? She hoped so. But she also knew that she had to keep her wits, had to keep her defenses up. If they got around her defense, she was lost. Name, rank service number. It was such a cliché, she thought, but that was all she was going to give them, no matter what happened.
In the middle of the second night, she heard gunshots, and shouting. Was it the Marines? She held her breath and listened. No, there was some laughing, and cheers. The group that had left with the leader presumably had returned. What were they celebrating? Amy wondered. Please God, they had not picked up any more Marines, or any of her friends. All kinds of images ran through her head, all possible scenarios. Calm down Marine, Amy ordered herself. Deal with facts, what you know for sure. The rest will have to take care of itself. You can't help anyone but yourself.
She listened, but no one came that night.
Andrew's Airforce Base
2316 local time
The flight back to Washington was long and quiet. Harm and Sarah talked in low tones, and slept during the flight. Each of them had come forward and sat with Clay for a little while, tried to get him to talk a little. Clay had successfully moved into sort of a numbed state. He didn't think about anything. Had turned off his imagination, because all it was filled with was visions of Amy being hurt. And he was able to ignore his memory too. No replays of her capture, or what he did or did not do. It was out of his hands, and he felt as empty on the inside, as his hands and arms were now. They were apart, and both helpless. He didn't think about anything really. It was like being asleep with his eyes open. When Sarah and Harm came to try and talk with him, he answered their questions shortly, but politely. 'I'm all right, really. No I'm not hungry. Yes, we will try and piece things together when we get to Washington. There may be a message that the guerillas have made contact, made some demands by the time we land in Washington. Let's hope so....'
This was about the extent of the conversations on the flight back. What Clay could remember of them anyway. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
They disembarked from the plane, carrying their bags to the parking lot. Harm's car was there, and he was going to drive Sarah home. Clay carried his bag and Amy's to his own car. Harm was very worried about Clay. He had not slept or eaten anything that he could remember since Amy had been captured. What was he surviving on? Harm asked himself. It didn't even seem to be adrenaline, or coffee, for he had not drank anything either. Clay just... seemed to be existing right now. But at this rate, Harm thought, he would end up in the hospital. Harm hated the thought of Clay being alone right now. Some one should keep an eye on him.
'Clay, why don't you come home with me. I'll drop Sarah off, and you can sleep at my place. I'll bunk on the couch.' Harm offered.
'Yes, Clay.' Sarah urged him. 'You shouldn't be alone.'
I'm always alone now, Clay thought. I want to be alone. 'No. I don't want to put you out Harm. Neither one of us need to spend another night on too small a bed. I'll head home. I'll be fine, I just need to sleep in my own bed.' He hoped he sounded convincing to his friends. He did want to be left alone. He was ashamed of himself, and didn't want to be around other people right now. The last place he wanted to go was home to his empty townhouse though, but what else did he have?
'Well, call me later in the morning. Let me know you got some sleep. And eat something, please? We don't need you in the hospital right now. There is work to do, right?' Harm said, trying to give Clay some purpose.
'Right. You are right. I'll call in the morning.' Clay said, and opened his car, and got inside. He watched the others get inside Harm's car, and drive off. They were lucky to have each other now, Clay thought wistfully. The thought of going home almost made him sick. He could go to his mother's. After long or difficult missions, he often went to Great Falls to get over jet lag, and other things. But he couldn't face his mother right now. She was disappointed when she found out he had broken things off with Amy, but she let it go. No, going to his Mother's was not a good idea for now.
He knew where he wanted to go, and decided he didn't care if it was right or wrong. He started his engine, and made his way out of the parking lot.
Amy's Apartment
Georgetown
2350 local time
The keys he still had worked in the security door outside, and the apartment door. He had kept them by mistake, and had wanted to return them to Amy, but as time had gone on, it became too awkward to return them. So he had kept them.
He entered the apartment, and closed the door behind him. The shades were open part way, and light from the street lamp outside came into the living room. The dark shadows suited his mood, and there was enough light to move around. He walked down the hallway to the bedroom with her bag in hand. He opened the door, but could not step inside that room; too many memories. He set the bag on the floor inside, and closed the door again.
Clay walked back to the living room, looking around. Nothing had changed in the months since he had last been here. He didn't know why they should have. Everything was in its place, not cluttered, neat as a pin. Clay saw her quilt loom in the bay window, and walked over to it. He remembered the first time he had seen it, what he had said, and heard her answer echoing back. 'What's this?' he had asked. 'A birdbath. What does it look like?' he said aloud, with a smile on his face remembering. It was the first smile that had crossed his face in days.
The loom did look like a birdbath, but it was missing a bowl.
Hanging over the edge was a new quilt she was working on; dark red and green and white. He could see some of the small stitches, but there was still more to do. Who will finish it now? His mind posed the question. 'She will finish it.' Clay answered aloud, as if saying it would make it so. Clay lifted it up to look at in the street light. How many times had he watched her at this loom? He would work on his computer across the room, and she would sew. Sometimes they had just enjoyed being together, enjoyed the companionship. He unfolded the quilt and filled his empty arms with it. He thought of the times he had cuddled under one of her quilts with her, the nights they had made love cocooned beneath one, warm and soft, sleeping through the night, arms and bodies intertwined.
Suddenly the past few days of fear, frustration and guilt swept over him. Sleep. God, I want to sleep. Escape into the dark. Clay moved over to the couch and lay down. He was asleep in moments, the quilt wrapped around him, and a tear drying on his cheek.
Claire Vincent
Author: Claire Vincent
Date April 2004
This is the fourth chapter of what will be many chapters in a series titled: Webb Odyssey. Watch for more stories under this title or my name. Clayton Webb has become a favorite character with me, and the story really involves him. Enjoy.
This Chapter is rated PG-13 for adult content.
Disclaimer: The Clayton Webb character, and other JAG characters, belong to Donald P. Bellisario, Bellisario Productions, CBS, et al. All other characters and situations of this story belong to the author. No copying of this material is allowed without my consent. For your reading pleasure, one copy is allowed.
WEBB Odyssey
Adventures of Clayton Webb and his friends at JAG, and certain special someone.
Rating: PG-13
Classification: JAG - Story
Webb/other Romance - Adventure
Spoilers: None, written after Tangled Webb.
See Chapters 1 - 3 for the beginning of the story.
Summary: Webb is back at his old job, running covert operations, and taking advantage of 'the best people' for the job. Only this time, the mission goes out of control, and our favorite spy is helpless.
Chapter 4 Webb Odyssey
Mission Gone Sour
Clayton Webb made his way through the maze of cubicles in the office of Homeland Security. He had been this way a few times before, but it had been months since he had last made a visit here. He hoped he remembered where her office was, and that it had not been moved. Clay hated to come here and see her, ask for her help. But, they were both professionals, and he needed her expertise and language skills on this assignment. He had always used the best, and she was the best for this one. He was sure they could fill their assigned duties, and put any personnel past behind them. In their line of work, they were bound to cross paths at times, and they should be able to handle it. This was not some pathetic ploy of his to see her, and have contact with her again. A very small voice in his head kept saying, maybe it will be true if you just keep telling yourself that Clay.
He came to her office, if you could really call it that. It was on the inside of the building, no windows, and was barely bigger than a closet. Clay guessed a major was not important enough for a real office in the great scheme of things in the office of Homeland Security.
Her door was open a crack and he peeked inside. She was sitting at her computer; he could see her profile. He took a moment, and just looked at her, and allowed himself to feel how much he missed her. Hearing her voice, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile. But he still felt what he had done, breaking up, was the right thing to do. Clay stepped a little to the side, and knocked.
'Yes' she replied, and kept typing.
He pushed the door open, and stepped inside. 'Amy' he said quietly.
She abruptly stopped typing, and just stared at the screen. She had waited a long time to hear him say her name again. She both hoped to hear it, and hoped she would never hear his voice again.
She began typing again, and without looking at him asked, 'What?'
'I need to talk to you Amy. I need your help.' He said over the clicking of the computer keys.
'What do you want Webb?' she said, still typing, trying to ignore him, and talk to him at the same time.
'Oh, we are back to Webb are we?' he jokingly said, trying to lighten the conversation.
She stopped and finally looked at him. If she wore glasses, it would have been a stern look over the rim of the glasses. As it was, it was still a stern look, with eyebrows raised. 'I repeat, what do you want?'
All business, all right, he could be all business too. 'You,' he said, and wished he meant it personally, not professionally. 'I am putting together a team for a special op, and I need a communications officer.'
'I'm in security now.' She answered, and turned back to her computer. She hoped he would take the hint and leave. She was not that lucky.
'You were a communications officer.' He stated.
'Were.' She interrupted. 'No, Webb. Don't drag me into one of your ops. It would be a bad idea.'
Clay was not going to give up so easily. She should know that, he thought. 'I can have your CO order you to be assigned to this mission.'
At that, Amy's phone rang on her desk. As she reached to answer it, Clayton smiled, and said, 'Right on cue.'
'Harris. Yes. Yes Ma'am.' She said, and hung up the phone.
'Your CO.' he stated.
Amy did not answer. She got up, and walked out of her office, heading down the corridor to her CO's office. Webb was right behind her.
'Major Harris reporting as ordered, Ma'am.' Amy said as she entered the office, and stood at attention. Clayton entered the office behind her, and stood in what he hoped was a neutral position between the two women.
'At ease Major. I see you have met with Mr. Webb. Has he been telling you about the team he is putting together for a special op in Iraq, and how he wants you to be a part of that team?'
'He has, Ma'am.' Amy answered.
'Good. I have told him our office will give him our full support.' Her CO stated.
'Ma'am, may we talk, privately?' Amy asked, looking right at Clayton.
'I'll wait outside.' He said, and left the office.
'What is it Major?' the colonel asked.
'Ma'am, I respectfully request that someone else be assigned this duty.' Amy said. She really did not want to be part of any op that involved Webb. The thought of having to work with him in close quarters, take orders from him, just be around him, was more than Amy could handle right now. She had just begun to get over him, and what he meant to her. To have to be around him everyday would be just too much.
'Major, may I remind you that our agency, and the CIA are working together to keep our country safe. Any collaboration between our offices is very important, to this department, to this agency, and to the country.' She stopped there to let it sink in. 'We are at war Major. We don't get to pick and choose where we go, and what we do.'
'I know that Ma'am, I just...' Amy tried to explain but the CO interrupted her.
'Suck it up Marine. I am aware of a personal history between you and Webb, but you are just going to have to deal with it. As of tomorrow you are T.A.D. to Mr. Webb's team, and you will fulfill your duties as any Marine would. Do you understand!' the last part, being shouted as an order.
'YES, Ma'am!' Amy answered, snapping to attention.
'Dismissed'
'Yes, Ma'am!' Amy turned and exited the office, closing the door behind her. Waiting in the outer office was Clayton. He at least had the decency to wipe the 'I told you so' look off his face as she came out, though Amy did catch a glimpse of a smirk.
She started walking back toward her office, and Clayton again, fell in step behind her. She waited until they both entered her small office, then she shut the door behind him, and let him have it.
'This is a bad idea Webb, but I have my orders. One question though, why me?'
'I want the best, that's you. I need a communications officer, who speaks Farci, has ties with the Marine Corps, and who I can trust. Not necessarily in that order.' He answered.
'There is no one in the whole of CIA that fits that description?' she asked sarcastically.
'As I said, I need someone I can trust. There is only a few people at Langley who will even know we are over there. We will be gathering information on the whereabouts and actions of a particularly dangerous group of guerillas, operating in Northern Iraq. Our job will be to report on their numbers, actions, movements, and possibly bring in Marine 'choppers to take them out. Otherwise it will be intelligence gathering. They seem to target our troops quite well, and there have been reports of missing agents in the area. We are afraid that someone along the line is leaking information to this group. That is part of our mission too, if possible, find out their contact. We are going to be very busy.'
'Fine, but lets get somethings straight.' Amy began. If she had to work with him, there were going to be some ground rules. 'I will be the communications officer, and fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities. But I do not and will not be a 'friend' working with you WEBB. Don't buddy up to me, don't talk to me outside of my duties, and generally stay out of my way.'
'Fine' he answered.
'Fine' she answered back.
'Be at Langley at 800 hours tomorrow. Have a field bag packed for up to 3 weeks. There will be a briefing, then we board the plane for Baghdad at noon.'
'Yes Sir.' She said sarcastically.
Clayton moved to leave the office. As he opened the door, she called him back.
'Webb.' He turned to look at her.
'Who else is invited to this little party of yours?'
'I am on my way now to invite Harm and Sarah.' Clayton answered. 'As I said, I need people I can trust on this one.'
'I should have known' was all Amy said as he left the office.
The next morning
CIA Headquarters, Langley VA
0800 hours local time
Webb and his team were all on time. As Amy entered the conference room, she saw that Harm and Sarah were already there, and Clayton began the meeting right away. Harm and Sarah didn't look too happy about being dragged into this op any more than Amy, but here they all were, ready to serve their country.
Clayton moved through the information quickly. Their mission basically was to track this group of insurgents, and gain any and all information on them that they could. Most of the work would be done at night. Harm, Sarah and Clayton would be a team that went out into the hills, and report back to a communications truck, manned by Amy, any information they could. The three of them would stay pretty close together, and each night they would go in the enemy's territory in a different direction, looking for their prey. After each patrol, they would report back to a Marine base, where they could get supplies, and some rest before going out again the next night.
The Marine Corps had small patrols in the area that Webb's team would be adjacent to. These Marine patrols were mobile, and had similar orders. To watch for insurgent groups and take them out with back up from a Marine chopper unit also in the area. Clay handed each of them a file with the information on the guerilla group for them to read and memorize on the flight over. Once Clay had said this, Amy asked, with a smile 'After reading it, should we eat it? You know, destroy the evidence?' They had been sitting there all morning, all being very serious, and she couldn't stand it anymore. Sarah hid a smile, and Harm looked the other way. The joke was ignored by Webb, who just stared at Amy. 'Sorry' she said. 'Couldn't help myself.'
Once the details were filled in, they left Langley, and headed for Andrews Air Force base to catch their military flight to Baghdad. The plane had few seats, it was mostly taking over supplies, but there was a small cabin, and they would be relatively comfortable on their long flight. There would be no stopovers; they would be refueled as needed in the air.
Amy had been pretty cold to Clayton so far. He couldn't really blame her. But he was hoping they could come to some form of civility during the trip. In their line of work, they were bound to run into each other, and a working relationship would be better than this cold reception he had gotten so far. As they were settling into their seats, he placed his smaller bag in the seat beside Amy's, and was arranging his luggage above. He hoped he could at least sit beside her, for a while, and try and talk with her. As he moved the bag and was about to sit down she said...'Ah, excuse me.' Clayton looked at her.
'Is this seat taken?' he asked with a smile.
'There are other seats. Go over there and sit.' She indicated an empty seat across the isle and one row up.
'Amy, come on. You expect to keep this up the whole time?' referring to her wish that he keep his distance.
'Clayton, you are the one who made the choice in the first place.'
'Amy this is going to be a hard enough mission, can't we just get along?' Clay asked.
'Fine. You really want to sit here? Excuse me." For a minute he thought she might relent, but then she grabbed her knapsack, and pushed him out of the way, and went and sat down in the seat she had indicated for him a minute ago.
She sat down and began arranging her things for the flight.
Harm and Sarah had watched the whole thing and waited for Clayton to make the next move. He simply sat down in the seat Amy had just vacated, and began settling in himself.
Harm and Sarah looked at each other, and silently exchanged the thought; 'This is going to be a long trip.'
Hours into the flight
Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean
They had each brought reading material, official and recreational. They had brought food for the flight, and by now they had tried to get as comfortable as possible to try and get some rest. The cabin was quiet. Clayton's light over his seat was still on, as he did paper work, and he was interrupted by Harm, sitting down in the seat next to him.
'What are you thinking Clay? Bringing her along.' Harm asked.
'I wanted her to be part of the team. I can trust her, and she is a good communications officer who speaks Farci.' Clayton answered.
'She either still loves you, or she hates you. I happen to think it is a little of both.' Harm stated.
Clay did not have an answer for that, and kept quiet.
'Are you sure you did not ask her along because you still want to be with her? You've done that before. Taken someone on an op just because you want to be with them.' Harm said, referring to Paraguay and his time with Sarah there.
'Oh give me a brake! I am not going to make the same mistakes again Harm. I did what I had to with Amy. I just hope we can work out some kind of...professional relationship and find some common ground.'
'You broke her heart, Clay. Do you think it is fair to ask her to meet you on some 'common ground' now? You are kidding yourself, and hurting her more. I give her a lot of credit to put up with you on this trip. I don't know if I would in her place.'
'I did her a favor Harm.'
'Yeah, maybe you did do her a favor.' He agreed. With that Harm go up and went back to his seat, turned off his light, and tried to stretch out his 6 foot frame as much as possible to try and get some rest.
Clay looked at Sarah. She was curled up in the seat next to Harm like a cat. Sleeping very peacefully. He couldn't see Amy since she was in the row ahead of him. Just as well, Clay thought. He had watched her sleep plenty of times, and it would just hurt to watch her sleep now.
It was a good thing that Clayton could not see Amy. He would be surprised that her eyes were open, and they were filled with tears. She had overheard what Harm had said, and appreciated the support. She wasn't sure how she was going to get through the next weeks, having to be around Clay every day. Hear him say her name, watch him work, see his face with those green eyes and dimples. Suck it up Marine, she told herself. She will get through this, and get on with life. And he was not going to see any tears out of her. She wiped the last one off her face, and closed her eyes to try and sleep before they landed, and got to work.
Somewhere in Northern Iraq
US Marine Camp
1742 local time
They landed in Iraq, and immediately got on a chopper to be flown to the Marine camp that would serve as their base of operations. The camp was a group of tents, pitched near one small building that was serving as an office for the senior officer, a communications room, and a mess area under a roof for cooking and serving meals to the Marines. The soldiers had set up a small tent, a little removed from the others with two cots for Sarah and Amy to sleep in. Someone had put a sign on the outside declaring the humble tent 'Female Officer Quarters'. They were both very appreciative. Sarah was tired from the long flight, and laid down to get some rest. Amy tried to sleep, but couldn't. She decided to walk around the camp, and get her barring. Maybe go over to the communications room and meet some of the men, and see if the truck was ready. As she left the tent, and started walking around, Clay saw her, and started over in her direction. When Amy saw him coming toward her, she stopped, and decided to wait for him. There was really no place to run anyway.
'Amy, can't we call a truce?' Clay said as he came up to her.
'A truce? Like, be civil to each other? No.' Amy said flatly.
"Oh please. I just want to feel safe out in the field. I don't want to worry about being shot in the back.' Clay said. He didn't really believe she would do that. Then again...
Amy smiled. 'I hadn't thought of that, good idea.'
'Amy...' Clay started, but she interrupted him. 'Look, you want to be friends, I can't just be friends. This is very tough for me. I am not used to ending a relationship with someone, and then having them order me over seas for a covert operation.'
'Can't we just agree to get along? For the duration of the mission? For the good of the mission?' Clay reasoned.
'Maybe for Harm and Sarah's sake, but not yours.' She answered.
'Thank you for that anyway. I never stopped caring about you, you know. I can't just turn off my emotions the way you think I can.' Clay had not expected to say that, but he wasn't sorry he had said it. Maybe it will help smooth things over, and allow them to become friends, in some manner.
'Could have fooled me.' Amy said coldly.
They stood looking at each other a moment, each trying to meet somewhere half way. Clay spoke first. 'So you won't shoot me in the back?' he asked hopefully.
'No, I won't shoot you in the back. Maybe I'll just wing ya.' She said with a wink and walked away.
Clay was not completely sure whether he should be relived, or more worried by that last remark.
The team began their patrols the next night. They had found some camps where a group had fires, and found truck tires near by, but they never say any groups of people moving about at night, or camped out. Each morning the four of them would come back to the Marine camp, have breakfast with the troops, and go back to their separate tents to sleep during the day. Each evening they would wake up, eat again, and head out in a different direction looking for the guerillas. Whenever they set out, they were both hopeful they would find what they were looking for, and nervous that they would find the guerillas, and what they would do then.
One morning, as they are eating a meal before hitting the sack they were all a bit punchy and laughing about their favorite old movies.
Clay started talking about a movie he had seen with Amy titled "The Russians are coming!" He remembered it had struck him as very funny, set in the cold war era, and how the town had been afraid of the Russians and how the Russians had been afraid of the Americans. Harm and Sarah were not familiar with the movie, and Clay was describing it, but could not remember how it had ended.
Amy remembered that they never finished watching it. Clay had started kissing her, touching her, and they had ended up in the bedroom. It was one of the weekends they had spent at her place, and it had been very special to Amy. She got very quiet while Clay talked about the movie. Clay had not noticed, and asked Amy, 'How did it end, I don't remember seeing the end.'
She gave him a short answer, 'The towns people and Russians have to work together to save a little boy off the roof of a church.'
'I don't remember that. How did I miss that?' Clay asked a bit confused.
'I don't know.' Amy said. 'I'm tired, I'm going to hit the sack.' She got up and headed for the tent she shared with Sarah.
As Amy got up to leave, Clay suddenly remembered why he never saw the end of the movie. It was one of those times when he could not get enough of Amy. How she smelled, how she felt in his arms. Sitting close to her, watching the movie was too much, and he had to have her. He had switched off the TV, picked her up, and took her to the bedroom. The smile faded from his face as he remembered how that had felt, and how he missed being with her. Sharing the closeness and tenderness they had together.
Sarah also noticed how the conversation had suddenly changed, and felt uncomfortable in the silence. She offered an excuse, 'Knowing you Clay, you probably got called into the office. That's what usually happens.'
'Yeah. That was probably it.' He agreed quietly. 'I think I will hit the sack too.' With that he got up and left the table too. He began walking across the camp to his tent, and saw Amy still walking toward hers. She wore the dessert camouflage uniform, that looked just a little to big, and a floppy, full brimmed hat. Clay had never liked those hats, thought they looked equally silly on everyone. But on Amy, it looked good; sort of cute somehow. Clay wanted to walk over, and tell her he remembered that afternoon now too, when they had watched the movie, and never finished it. But what good would it do? What would be the point? That was over for both of them now. Clay turned, and walked to his tent, to try and get some sleep.
Somewhere in Northern Iraq
That night
2210 local time
They had driven in the truck a couple of hours to reach the next take off point. Clay had driven as usual, and parked the truck in a clearing at the base of a hill. All four of them got out of the truck, and began putting on their gear; Amy came out too, to help Sarah get everything strapped on. The three of them were quiet, but Amy was talkative tonight.
'You all be careful out there. Be good, and play nice with the guerillas. Write if you find work.' She said in a very motherly tone.
'We'll be careful.' Harm said with a smile, and started toward the hill. Sarah followed behind him. Their objective tonight was to roam around the string of hills in this area, and from this vantage point see if there was any activity. Amy as always would stay in the truck, and keep the communications open. It would be harder for her tonight with the hills, but she knew she could do it.
Clay approached Amy and said to her, 'Try and keep contact with flight ops tonight, we may need them.' Somehow he had a feeling something was going to happen tonight. Or maybe he was hoping for something to happen. So far this mission had discovered nothing.
'Yes, Sir.' Amy said with a mock salute.
Clay stayed serious. 'You be careful too.'
'I'll be fine Clay. Don't worry about me.' Amy said. And with that she turned and got into the truck. Clay followed Harm and Sarah up the hill.
The three in the field kept contact with each other, and with Amy by radio. Amy also kept contact with the Marine choppers who were their backup should they need it. Harm, Sarah and Clay split up and began looking for movement as they had for several nights, but so far had seen nothing. They were not far apart, and kept tabs on each other through the night. After a few hours of no contact with the enemy, Clay made the decision that they would stay in this area another 30 minutes or so, then move off in another direction.
At the truck, Amy saw something move outside through the windshield. She just saw it out of the corner of her eye, and tried to look harder, but could not see anything now. Maybe it was nothing, or just an animal, she told herself. She looked back at her instruments.
There it was again. Amy looked out the windshield and saw a face. Only it did not belong to Harm or Sarah or Clay. 'Oh oh.' She said out loud.
Clay heard it over his radio and asked, 'What is it?'
'I have company.' Amy said.
Clay's hair stood straight up on the back of his neck. 'Friendlies?' he asked hopefully. It could be another Marine patrol, though something told him deep down it wasn't.
'No, I don't think so. They are shouting at the truck in Farsi.' Amy said, and as she said it, Clay heard gunfire.
Clay started moving and talking quickly. 'Stay in the truck. We are on our way.' He was running to the point on top of the hill where the three of them had split up hours before, and where they could see the truck at the bottom of the hill.
When Clay got there, Harm was already there, and Sarah joined them quickly. Harm had pulled out his night goggles, and was looking down at the truck. He could see that the guerillas had surrounded the truck, and had begun shooting at it, breaking the windshield, bursting the tires and breaking antennas. They were shouting orders to whoever was inside. Harm started counting, and was getting more nervous as the numbers grew. More of them seemed to be moving in from the road behind the truck.
Clay barely paused at the top, before he turned, and began running down the trail that lead to the truck. Sarah saw him heading down and called after him, 'Clay stop.' When Harm heard this, he put down his goggles, and got up to go after Clay. He grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him back. 'Clay, wait, there are too many of them.'
Sarah was trying to get Amy on the radio, using her code name. 'Birds nest, do you copy? Birds nest what is your status?'
Clay and Harm watched her, and listened for Amy's reply. 'Birds nest is fine.'
They all began breathing again, then Clay got on. 'Birds nest, stay put. Repeat, stay where you are, we are on our way.'
Harm looked sideways at him. 'Do you have a plan? Do you know how many there are down there? I stopped counting at 23, but there is more than that down there. We don't have the weapons to deal with that many, and we can't raise the choppers on our radios.'
As he said this, Amy was speaking to them too. 'Negative, Negative. Stay where you are. I am trying to contact eagle flight.' using the code name for the Marine chopper back up. She did not know that the guerillas had shot off the antennas, and satellite dish she needed to contact the Marines.
Harm, Sarah and Clay waited a few more tense moments to see if she could get through. 'No luck.' She said. 'Will keep trying.'
Clay shouted into his radio, 'Stay inside. Keep trying.' His heart was racing. He couldn't think. He had to get down there; he had to protect her. He started moving toward the trail again, and Harm grabbed him again. 'You can't go down there, Clay, they'll kill you!'
Clay shouted back at him, 'They are going to kill her!'
'You don't' know that for sure.' Harm was desperate to try and save Clay from killing himself and them in a rescue attempt. He didn't know how they were going to get out of this, but they had to keep their heads and come up with a plan, quick.
Amy's voice came over the radio one more time. 'You stay put. There are too many of them. Stay out of sight, and get back to the base. Go for help. You three are my best chance....' An explosion cut her off.
The three on the hill covered their heads, then moved to the edge to see what had happened below. It was possible a grenade had exploded near the truck. There was a fire under the hood, and a lot of black smoke billowing out from under the truck. They watched helplessly as two men shot at the back door to the truck, and covering part of their faces from the smoke, go inside. In a moment they came out of the truck dragging Amy between them and threw her to the ground.
Harm Mac and Clay could see that Amy was doubled over in pain, coughing out the smoke from the truck. Another man came over to her and picked her up by the coat front and shouted something to her in Farsi. Harm, and Clay looked at Sarah for a translation, but she shook her head. The man is too far away to understand what he is saying to Amy. She was limp, her head was hanging back, and her body was still wracked by the coughs. The man dropped her back to the ground, and started issuing orders to the men.
Clay turned quickly and started moving toward the trail again, saying as much to himself as to Mac and Harm, 'I have to get down there.' Harm stepped in front of him, blocking his way. 'What are you going to do?'
'I'm going to trade myself for Amy. Try and save her life.'
'They'll kill you, and keep Amy. Or, take both of you away and we'll have two people to try and find.' Harm insisted.
'She stands a better chance of staying alive with me there than alone.' Clay answered.
Sarah approached them saying to Clay, 'I can't let you go down there and be prisoner again.'
'I'll be all right. I can't watch them take her away. I have to help her.'
Harm tried another track. 'Amy was right. We are her only chance now for rescue. We have to go back to the base and get help.'
More shots were fired, and all arguments stopped as the three of them looked back over the edge of the hill to see what is going on. Clay's heart was pounding, was she dead already?
No, he saw that Amy was sitting up, and a man was tying her hands together in front of her. It was time to go. 'Rabb, get out of my way.' He ordered.
'I won't' was Harm's answer.
'What if they had Sarah? You'd move heaven and earth to save her.' Clay said.
'But I would not jeopardize others' lives in the process. That is what you are doing with us.' Harm reasoned. 'We won't let you go down there alone and get killed. Besides, there is no guarantee they would give Amy up for you. You go running in there now, you both are dead. Then they'll come looking for us.'
They watched helplessly as the soldiers began moving off, in the direction they had come. Amy was in the middle of the group. Another rope was tied to her hands, and they were using in like a leash to bring her along. Clay knew Harm was right, but watching Amy being taken away was more than he could bare.
Once the area was clear, Harm, Clay and Sarah made their way carefully down the trail to the burned out truck. Harm and Sarah went over to the truck to see if there was a chance that any of the radio equipment still worked, or if there was anything salvageable that they could use.
Clay walked over to the place in the dirt Amy had laid minutes ago. She had lost her camouflage cap, the floppy one. He picked it up from the dirt and held it. There was something sticky on one side, and he turned it over. Blood. A big blot of it on one side some had gotten on his hand. Amy had a head wound; his mind registered the fact. Probably when the grenade went off, shook the truck, she hit her head. His heart didn't take it quite so coolly. She's injured and in the hands of an insurgent guerrilla group? What have I done?
Clay folded the cap very carefully and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. Harm came up to him and told Clay there was nothing left of the truck they could use. They would have to walk back to the marine base camp, and the sooner they started, the sooner they could get help for Amy.
'We better get moving, Clay, before any other soldiers come through.' Harm said. He was not sure Clay had heard anything he said, but they needed to get moving. The more ground they could cover while it was still night, the better. Clay only nodded and let Harm take his arm and point him down the road. Clay barely saw or heard anything. All he could see for sure was Amy being lead away by a rope.
Marine Base Camp
Northern Iraq
1117 local time
The three stumbled into the camp late morning after walking all night. They had rested a few times, but all three new of the urgency to get back with the Marines, and start searching for Amy. There was very little talk between them in the early hours of the morning. Both Harm and Mac had tried to engage Clay in some kind of conversation, but as time went on, Clay became quieter, and more determined to get to their destination, and get to work.
When they arrived at the camp, the made their way to the one building, and reported to the camp CO, Colonel Fred Rickert. They had not had too much contact with the CO before this. Clay's team had pretty much kept to themselves, and did their work in the midst of the Marines. But now, they needed his help. When they entered, Clay got down to business.
'Colonel Rickert. We were ambushed last night, and one of my team was captured. We need your help to begin a search of the area.' Clay said.
Colonel Rickert began asking his own questions. 'Who is it? How long ago did this happen?'
'Major Amelia Harris, USMC, the communications officer. It happened early this morning. We have been walking back all night. The truck was blown up, there was nothing left that was usable.' Clay stated coolly.
'Hours ago? Are you sure Harris is still alive Webb?' the Colonel asked.
'Yes.' Clay insisted. He would not even consider any other possibility. 'We need choppers to go back over the sight of the attack, and see if we can pick up their trail. There was approximately 25 to 30 guerrillas, moving on foot. We should be able to tell which way they were headed in the day light.
Clay and the Colonel and Harm started looking at maps of the area, and making search plans. Two choppers would be sent up, one with Harm in it, and one with Clay. They would fly back over the attach area, and split up at the sight of the truck to begin looking for the direction the guerrillas went with Amy. With any luck, they would find the trail, and follow it to their camp, and take them out, and rescue Amy. The Colonel and Sarah would stay in camp, and monitor the search from there, keeping contact with both choppers, and any ground troops or extra back up that might be needed.
The plan seemed sound, and straight forward. Clay was hopeful they could find her quickly. It felt good to be doing something positive finally, after all night of walking and worrying. He felt energized, and was ready to blow the whole group of insurgents away if they harmed Amy.
But as the hours passed, no trail was picked up, no sign of where the guerrillas had gone, or where they were now, was discovered. It was growing dark, and the chopper pilots were getting worried themselves. They were getting desperately low on fuel. The pilot warned Mr. Webb again that they had to head back, before they were out of fuel completely. 'Just one more circle, please Captain.' Webb asked. The Captain felt the pain Webb was feeling. It seemed a little more than what a regular CO would feel for a person under their command who was captured. The Captain felt bad for the missing Marine Major too, but they were all going to be MIA if they didn't head back now.
'I'm truly sorry Mr. Webb, but we have to go back now. Or we are all going to be missing.' The Captain told him, as he made the turn to go back to the base.
Clay knew they had to go. But he felt like he was leaving her all over again. Where could she be? How could that large a group of armed men just disappear into the night? For that is what it felt like. They had just disappeared into the dark, and Amy was with them.
Along the road in Northern Iraq
An hour after sunrise, that same morning
Amy was exhausted. At other times in her life she had felt exhausted, and had said she was exhausted, but what she felt now, was so much worse. Every part of her hurt; her head throbbed, her arms were so sore from being pulled all night she thought she would never be able to move them again. Her hands and wrists hurt and bled from being tied together. And her feet...
The men that lead her had walked, no, jogged most of the night along a track, it couldn't even be called a road, it was just two tire tracks in the dirt. They had stopped twice for five minutes each time to catch their collective breath, before they moved again. At each stop the men pulled out canteens, and some even had food, but no one made a move to give her any water. On the first stop, Amy had fell to the ground to rest, when one of the men came over and kicked her a couple of times, just to get a reaction from her. He spoke to her in Farsi, and she understood him, but had decided not to let on she understood their language. She might be able to pick up information if they talked freely in front of her. He called her names, and insulted her, and she just rolled up in a tighter ball to try and protect herself. He was trying to look like a big man in front of the others, and look tough to her, when he decided to make her life a little worse, he had said. He took out a knife, and sliced through the laces on her boots. Then he pulled them off, and threw them into the rocks, followed by her socks. This was met by cheers, and laughs by his fellow soldiers, as they dragged her up by the rope and started down the road again. The rest of the night, Amy had marched barefoot over rocky terrain, stumbling trying to keep up. He feet became bruised, and cut, and still they kept going. She had worked hard to stop thinking about the pain, and concentrate on moving, one foot then the other, down the track. They wouldn't march her to death, would they? It didn't matter. She wasn't going to die. She would just keep moving.
Now they had made another stop, this time for longer than 5 minutes. Amy took the time to catch her breath, and try to get as much rest as possible, before anything else happened. None of the men came over to check on her, or to bother her, and she counted that as a blessing at this point. The one that had shouted the most orders during the night, the leader she had decided, came over to look at her once, but she barley noticed.
With her head on the ground, she heard them coming. A vehicle, maybe two, moving down the road toward them. For a second she thought maybe it could be US, but when the men did not seem too troubled about the approaching vehicle, were not running for cover, she doubted it was the US. Probably just more of them.
It was two trucks, old troop carriers. They stopped and the men began pulling themselves into them. Thank God, Amy prayed. No more marching. She did not even think about where they were taking her, or how far. Just that she did not have to walk anymore. Two men came over to her and picked her up, by the shoulders and knees, and threw her into the back of one of the trucks like a sack of potatoes. The rest of the men boarded the truck, leaving her on the floor, stepping over her, giving her a kick now and then to move her out of their way. When they were all on board, the trucks were put into gear, and started driving down the road. They were on the move again.
Marine Base Camp
Northern Iraq
2105 local time
The choppers carrying Harm and Clay landed, they got off, and slowly headed for the command building. It was fully dark now, and colder, now that the sun was down.
As soon as Harm entered the building, Sarah got up and went to him. He enfolded her in his arms, and they just stood there. Sarah looked wiped out, Clay thought, and felt badly that he was putting them all through this ordeal. He could just barely hear that Sarah had begun to cry, and Harm was whispering to her, trying to comfort her. 'She'll be all right. She's a strong, tough marine. We did what we had to do. We will find her Sarah.' Clay sincerely hoped so. He left them alone for a moment and went into another room to find Colonel Rickert.
He was at his desk, just hanging up a phone. He looked at Clay, and Clay could tell there was bad news coming. 'I'm glad you are back. I was going have to call you in anyway. I have new orders.' He stopped there, looked up as Harm and Sarah joined them. Harm still had his arm around Sarah, and she was leaning on him for support. The Colonel continued. 'We are a mobile unit, and have been ordered to break this camp, and move to another location. Tonight.'
'Why tonight, Colonel?' Harm asked. His tired mind was having trouble connecting the dots. There was something more going on here, he could feel it.
Clay answered the question for the Colonel. He had expected this, and had hoped he would have more time. 'Amy knows this location and she is in enemy hands.'
Sarah spoke up in her friend's defense. 'She would never talk!'
'It is standard procedure, Colonel MacKenzie.' Rickert answered. 'They'd move this camp if I was taken or the lowest private was taken. It's no reflection on Major Harris.'
Clay stayed on the task at hand. 'When do you move?' he asked.
'We are packing up non-essentials now and moving them out. The rest will go out at first light.' Rickert answered.
'Then we will refuel, and go back up. I want to check further north and follow a road I saw...' Clay began, but was cut off by Rickert.
'I'm sorry Mr. Webb. There is more. Along with the orders to evacuate, orders came down to cease all search operations for Major Harris.'
All three piped up at that pronouncement. 'What?' 'No, you can't be serious.' 'No, they can't order us to stop...'
Colonel Rickert talked over them. 'You all have been ordered back home. This came direct from Washington.'
'No way.' Clay declared. 'I'm not leaving. How can they just leave her?' he shouted.
'They are not abandoning her.' Rickert stated. 'The Iraqi Provisional Government wants to be in charge of negotiating the release.'
'Negotiate?' Clay asked.
'Washington and the Iraqis feel the guerillas will make contact and try to use the Major as leverage in a prisoner exchange, or something.' Rickert explained.
Clay was furious. He could not believe this was happening, had the whole world gone mad? 'That's insane. These people don't negotiate with anyone. They don't recognize any government, provisional or otherwise. They are ruthless terrorists whose only goal is to cause pain and suffering to the US and get them out of Iraq and the Middle East!'
'Clay, calm down.' Harm said. 'This won't get us anywhere.'
Clay turned on him. 'Its true. No one will be contacted.'
'It is possible.' Colonel Rickert suggested. 'A Marine Major, a woman, is a lot of leverage. They will get attention in the international media to make themselves known and feared, and get what they want.'
Harm agreed. 'And if they did want leverage, and an exchange, it would be in their best interest not to hurt Amy while they have her.'
Clay was still mad. 'It will already be in their best interest not to hurt her, because if they harm one hair on her head, they'll face me, and Allah help them then.'
Sarah spoke up. 'This is all just speculation so far. We don't even know who has her.'
'We can only wait, and hope they make contact for a trade of some kind.' Rickert said.
Harm asked, 'How long do we wait? How long will the US wait for the Iraqis to try and handle this themselves? Isn't time important here for Amy's safety?'
'The standard is 72 hours.' Clay answered him. 'These types usually move on and kill any prisoners after about 3 days. They question them...' he didn't want to think about what they might do to her. He knew plenty of ways to break a prisoner, had used some means himself at times, and had it done to him as well. He blocked that possibility out of his mind for now. He would not be able to think straight if he thought about what could happen to Amy. 'It has been about 24 hours already, since she was taken.'
They were all silent at that. Then Rickert spoke up. 'At daylight, a chopper will take you back to the airstrip. You will board a plane there and head home.'
Clay dismissed this plan. 'No. I'm going out again. I want to check that road.'
'Mr. Webb,' Rickert began. 'I can't let you do that.'
'I'll just take a humvee.'
'No' Rickert said. 'I have my orders. You will leave on the plane in the morning with the others, and my Marines and I will move out. We have our orders.' He left the three of them alone.
'They have taken it out of our hands, Clay' Harm said. He hated the idea of leaving, but there was no more the three of them could do for Amy, not without back up. He tried to convince Clay. He looked so determined to do something, and that scared Harm. 'If more military or intelligence people are caught poking around it could jeopardize any negotiations. And I don't need to tell you that if you get caught by guerillas, CIA would leave you and Amy behind in a minute. It would become Webb and Harris who? We have no knowledge or operatives with those names.'
'This is a nightmare.' Clay said shaking his head. When was he going to wake up and find that this was all a nightmare? What had he done? How could he do this to her?
Sarah walked over to him. 'I know. There's nothing we can do. The safest thing we can do for Amy now is go home. Go over the Intel we did gather. We all saw them, maybe we can help identify them, report on what we saw, and it might help find her.' She wasn't sure she was making sense, but she was trying to keep Clay from going out alone.
Clay looked at her, hopelessness stamped on his face. 'Look for Amy while in Washington? It's small comfort Sarah.' And he walked out of the room.
Sarah looked back at Harm with a hurt look in her eyes. 'Don't take it hard.' He told her. 'I'm sure he didn't mean it.'
'I know.' She said. 'He blames himself for this. When we were in Paraguay, he promised me he would do anything he could to protect me. He was ready to die for both of us if that would keep me save.'
Harm nodded. 'His mother told me he is very protective of those he loves.'
'Do you think he still loves her?' she asked.
'I know he does.' Harm said. 'And now he is helpless.'
Iraqi Base Camp
Northern Iraq
That same evening. After sundown.
The trucks came to a stop, and after all the men had gotten out of the truck, the last two grabbed Amy, and pulled her out, and to her feet. She crouched in pain, but they did not wait for her. They grabbed the rope still tied to her wrists, and pulled her to a building. They pushed and pulled her down a short flight of stairs, and pushed her into a room. Looking around, as they untied her hands, the room reminded Amy of a storage room in her grandmother's basement. Dirt floor, one small window high up beside the ceiling, big wood door. Only this room was empty of any furniture or shelves. The leader had followed them inside.
He began talking as soon as the door was closed. 'You will be our guest here. You will give me the information I want, and I will negotiate your release. Give me no information, or try to trick me, and you will die in this room.'
Amy looked around her in what she hoped was a noncommittal way. Then came back to the leader. She was scared all right, but she'd be dammed if she was going to show fear to him.
'What were you doing in the truck?' he asked her.
Amy just looked at him.
"How many soldiers were with you?' he asked.
Silence.
'Did you not understand what I said woman? Answer my questions!' he shouted.
Amy smiled and laughed a little. 'Your really think I will answer your questions? I am a United States Marine Officer. Harris, Amelia, Major, and I don't answer terrorist's questions.' Before she had ended the sentence he rushed at her, grabbed her by her shoulders and slammed her against the stone wall. Her head banged on the stones, and she saw stars, and red haze. In a moment it cleared, and she saw his ugly face. He was yelling at her again.
'You think I am joking? You'll die here. Slowly and painfully if you do not answer my questions. Where is the Marine base you came from? How many Marines are there?'
When Amy's head cleared enough, she was tired of his shouting at her, so she spit in his face. He swore in his native tongue, and punched her with the back of his fist, sending her to the floor.
Amy lay there, thanking her big brother Peter for that little bit of street smart he had taught her when they were kids. Her head hurt worse now, and her ears were ringing. But her fear was gone. Let them hurt her. She was a Marine, and she would never give up her fellow Marines.
The leader spoke to the other men in Farsi, she hadn't quite caught what he said but she didn't want to let on she understood them. The other two men came over, and turned her on her back. They began pulling off her pants, and unbuttoning her jacket.
Now, Amy was getting very scared. Did they intend to rape her? They couldn't. She started to struggle, but it only got her more blows to the head and body. The leader was talking to her again. 'We will take a page out of the US interrogation book. You have special rooms where you put your prisoners and expose them to extreme temperatures. We don't have the special rooms, but we do have the desert.' The men had succeeded in taking all her clothes expect her boxer short underwear. She wore these since they were more comfortable under the rough material of her uniform. 'You may keep the men's' underwear, it is not necessary to leave her completely naked.' He told his men. 'Stand up' he ordered Amy.
The men pulled and pushed her into a standing position. She covered her breasts with her arms, and wished her body did not give her away with the gooseflesh that had come up with exposure to the cold air. It wasn't freezing, but it wasn't warm either.
'Maybe I should send you out to the middle of the compound like that, umm?' He smiled a sadistic smile. 'We have been fighting a long time, me and my men. They have not been home to see their wives.' He was beginning to see fear in her eyes finally and it pleased him. He would break her yet. 'However, to lie with an infidel woman is a grave sin and I will not put that temptation before my men.' He dismissed the other men from the room, and he turned to follow them, carrying her clothes. 'While the days in my country can be pleasant this time of year, the nights get very cold, and I am thankful for my campfire. We will sleep tonight, and will be gone tomorrow and into the next day. There will be enough men here to keep watch on you, never fear. After a couple of nights, enjoying our winter weather, maybe you will be ready to answer my questions.'
'Don't count on it.' Amy said between shivers, as the he left, and closed the door behind him. When she heard the bolt being pushed in she shouted. 'You call this winter? I'm from Wisconsin. We have real winters there!'
US Marine Base
Northern Iraq
0034 hours local time
Harm had gone back to the tent he shared with Clay and packed his few belongings to be ready to leave at first light. Then he lay down on his cot, and had hoped to get some sleep, but it wasn't that easy. He had been awake more than 24 hours, but he could not settle down. They were leaving, and Amy was still somewhere out there. Clay's words kept playing in his mind. If it were Sarah you would move heaven and earth. He would, he knew he would. But what could they do? They had no support, no backup, no idea where to look, no equipment...But they were leaving without her. Had he been right to stop Clay at the top of the hill? He wasn't so sure anymore.
Clay finally came in, but made no move to gather his belongings, or try and lay down to rest. He stood, looking out the screened window of the tent. 'Where have you been?' Harm asked.
'On the phone with Washington trying to stay. I can't. Then I went for a walk.' Clay answered in monotone voice. He sounded defeated.
'You should try and get some rest.' Harm suggested. He really didn't know what to say. What could anyone say? But Clay needed to rest. Harm wasn't sure what he was surviving on right now.
'I can't sleep.' Clay said. 'Every time I close my eyes I see that truck explode, or Amy being lead away on a leash.' He stopped there, then turned and looked at Harm. 'How much POW training did you get?' he asked.
'As a fighter, they train us pretty well.' Harm answered. He really could not remember how long it was, or how many subsequent courses he took in his career.
'How much training do you think Amy received?'
'The standard in basic training, and a few mandatory courses along the way. Probably not a lot.' Harm answered.
'We get weeks, and weeks.' Clay said. 'Tactics and techniques. The people in charge of that training interviewed me after Paraguay. They wanted to know how I took it. What I did to survive.'
'What did you do? Harm asked, wanting to keep him talking, let some of it out.
'I was protecting Sarah. If they were hurting me, they would stay away from her.' He paused, then went on with his thoughts. 'I know what they did to me. And I know what torture we use on our prisoners.'
Harm interrupted him here; maybe this was not a good conversation to be having right now. 'This group doesn't have the resources, the equipment.'
'No' Clay agreed. 'They'll use more primitive ways.'
'They may not do anything to her. They will need her healthy and unharmed to trade her with the US or Iraqi Government.' Harm reminded him.
'I hope you're right.' Clay said, looking back out the window. It was getting colder, and Clay shivered in the night air.
'Its getting cold, close the flap over the window.' Harm said. 'Lay down, try to rest some. There are a few more hours before daylight.'
Clay closed the flap, and lay down on the cot, but he never closed his eyes. He pulled out her cap from his jacket, and held in his hands. He felt the need to hold onto something, everything else seemed to be slipping away.
Storage Room
Iraqi Base Camp
0050 hours local time
Amy spent the night shivering beside the inside wall of the room. Her head and feet ached. She kept trying to sleep, but the shivers wracking her body didn't let sleep come. In the morning, she thought, the sun will come up and it will be warmer. I can get some rest then. It will be warmer, and I will be fine. She tried to remember the feel of the summer sun on her family farm in Wisconsin. How hot it would get in the barn with the horses. Yeah, think about the barn, and the horses. Dad and Peter. She had to see them again. She will get through this.
She thought about Harm, and Sarah and Clay. She hoped they had gotten back safely to the Marine base. Maybe they were out looking for her right now. She and Clay may have had their problems, but he would never leave her out here. 'Oh, Clay. Wh..Where are you? PPPPlease Clay.' She whispered in the dark.
US Marine Base Camp
Northern Iraq
0335 local time
Clay nudged Harm awake. 'Time to get moving if we are going to make our flight.'
Harm opened his eyes; surprised to discover he had fallen asleep at all. He looked closely at Clay. He looked beaten, like he had lost everything. Harm thought again that maybe he had been wrong to stop Clay when Amy was captured. But if both had been captured, the US would disavow both of them. As it stood now, there was some hope to get Amy back save through negotiations. Right now, Clay looked like he had no hope for anything. Harm struggled for something to say to help his friend, but what? He finally settled for 'Did you get any sleep?'
'What do you think?' came the surly answer. It was obvious he had not.
The two men made their way out of the tent, and toward the choppers. It seemed the evacuation was winding down. There was not much left of the tent village and vehicles that had been there a few hours before. Harm asked if Clay wanted to get something to eat before they left but Clay just kept on walking.
Harm went over to what used to be the kitchen. A couple of privates were handing out instant coffee and sandwiches to the troops who were still left. He met Sarah there, and they both got something to eat, then headed for the choppers. Clay was in one already, strapped in and ready to go. Once Harm and Sarah were settled, they took off for the short flight to the airstrip, where they would meet up with the plane that would take them home. All three of them keenly felt the absence of the fourth member of their team, and there was little talk in the chopper.
When they arrived at the airstrip, they gathered their things off the chopper, to take to the plane. Clay noticed that Harm had two bags, while Sarah grabbed another one, and the food. The bag Sarah held had the name HARRIS stamped on it. Clay really looked at Sarah for the first time this morning. She looked like she had a rough night too. 'That Amy's?' he asked her, nodding toward the bag in Sarah's hand. 'Yes. I thought I would bring it home for her. Hold onto it till she gets back.' Sarah said quietly, hoping that it would be true.
Clay held out his hand. 'Let me take it. I'll take care of it.'
'Its no problem...' Sarah began.
'Please.' Was all Clay said. It was obvious to Sarah that he needed to hold her bag of belongings. Clay needed that tangible thing that said this is her's and she would need it later, because she was coming back.
Sarah handed him the bag and they boarded the plane.
It was the same plane that brought them here, and Harm and Sarah took the same seats they had on the first flight. Clay sat in the seat Amy had sat in on that flight that seemed ages ago, not just a few days. He told himself it was because he didn't want Harm and Sarah to be watching him all the way home, but he knew deep inside it was a little more than that. They were supposed to stow their gear under the seats, but Clay kept Amy's bag beside him. He just wasn't ready to part with it yet.
The engines started, and the plane taxied to the end of the runway and turned into the wind. A voice inside of Clayton's head was screaming 'You are leaving her! They will kill her and you are leaving her here alone!' As the engines got louder to prepare for take off, so did the voice. His heart raced, and his hands were damp and started shaking. They had not done that for a long time, he thought. 'She's alone.' The voice cried. 'Clayton, Clayton.' Then it was Amy's voice, calling him 'Clay, Clayton.' As the plane lifted into the air, and the wheels made their last touch with the ground, Clay whispered, 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'
The voice was silent. There was only the sound of the engines, taking him away.
Storage Room
Iraqi Base Camp
Sunrise
When the sun came up, there was light in the room from the window. Amy spent the day, following the patch of light on the floor, thinking that it gave her some warmth. She tried to rest, and also did some floor exercises to keep the blood flowing, and keep warm. She was too bruised, and weak to do too much.
Amy was left alone through the day. She heard activity and voices through the window above, but could not see anything outside. She never heard anyone enter the building she was in either. No one came to hurt her, but no one came to give her any food or water either. She tried to make some escape plans, but knew without any clothes, she would probably die of exposure in the open at night. And there were too many soldiers around to try and sneak out in daylight. Since the ride in the truck, she didn't even know where she was, and wouldn't know which direction to go to find help. Besides she was too weak to do more than move about the small room. No, escape was not going to work right now, not without some help. Would help come? Were Clay, and Harm and Sarah safe and looking for her? She hoped so. But she also knew that she had to keep her wits, had to keep her defenses up. If they got around her defense, she was lost. Name, rank service number. It was such a cliché, she thought, but that was all she was going to give them, no matter what happened.
In the middle of the second night, she heard gunshots, and shouting. Was it the Marines? She held her breath and listened. No, there was some laughing, and cheers. The group that had left with the leader presumably had returned. What were they celebrating? Amy wondered. Please God, they had not picked up any more Marines, or any of her friends. All kinds of images ran through her head, all possible scenarios. Calm down Marine, Amy ordered herself. Deal with facts, what you know for sure. The rest will have to take care of itself. You can't help anyone but yourself.
She listened, but no one came that night.
Andrew's Airforce Base
2316 local time
The flight back to Washington was long and quiet. Harm and Sarah talked in low tones, and slept during the flight. Each of them had come forward and sat with Clay for a little while, tried to get him to talk a little. Clay had successfully moved into sort of a numbed state. He didn't think about anything. Had turned off his imagination, because all it was filled with was visions of Amy being hurt. And he was able to ignore his memory too. No replays of her capture, or what he did or did not do. It was out of his hands, and he felt as empty on the inside, as his hands and arms were now. They were apart, and both helpless. He didn't think about anything really. It was like being asleep with his eyes open. When Sarah and Harm came to try and talk with him, he answered their questions shortly, but politely. 'I'm all right, really. No I'm not hungry. Yes, we will try and piece things together when we get to Washington. There may be a message that the guerillas have made contact, made some demands by the time we land in Washington. Let's hope so....'
This was about the extent of the conversations on the flight back. What Clay could remember of them anyway. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
They disembarked from the plane, carrying their bags to the parking lot. Harm's car was there, and he was going to drive Sarah home. Clay carried his bag and Amy's to his own car. Harm was very worried about Clay. He had not slept or eaten anything that he could remember since Amy had been captured. What was he surviving on? Harm asked himself. It didn't even seem to be adrenaline, or coffee, for he had not drank anything either. Clay just... seemed to be existing right now. But at this rate, Harm thought, he would end up in the hospital. Harm hated the thought of Clay being alone right now. Some one should keep an eye on him.
'Clay, why don't you come home with me. I'll drop Sarah off, and you can sleep at my place. I'll bunk on the couch.' Harm offered.
'Yes, Clay.' Sarah urged him. 'You shouldn't be alone.'
I'm always alone now, Clay thought. I want to be alone. 'No. I don't want to put you out Harm. Neither one of us need to spend another night on too small a bed. I'll head home. I'll be fine, I just need to sleep in my own bed.' He hoped he sounded convincing to his friends. He did want to be left alone. He was ashamed of himself, and didn't want to be around other people right now. The last place he wanted to go was home to his empty townhouse though, but what else did he have?
'Well, call me later in the morning. Let me know you got some sleep. And eat something, please? We don't need you in the hospital right now. There is work to do, right?' Harm said, trying to give Clay some purpose.
'Right. You are right. I'll call in the morning.' Clay said, and opened his car, and got inside. He watched the others get inside Harm's car, and drive off. They were lucky to have each other now, Clay thought wistfully. The thought of going home almost made him sick. He could go to his mother's. After long or difficult missions, he often went to Great Falls to get over jet lag, and other things. But he couldn't face his mother right now. She was disappointed when she found out he had broken things off with Amy, but she let it go. No, going to his Mother's was not a good idea for now.
He knew where he wanted to go, and decided he didn't care if it was right or wrong. He started his engine, and made his way out of the parking lot.
Amy's Apartment
Georgetown
2350 local time
The keys he still had worked in the security door outside, and the apartment door. He had kept them by mistake, and had wanted to return them to Amy, but as time had gone on, it became too awkward to return them. So he had kept them.
He entered the apartment, and closed the door behind him. The shades were open part way, and light from the street lamp outside came into the living room. The dark shadows suited his mood, and there was enough light to move around. He walked down the hallway to the bedroom with her bag in hand. He opened the door, but could not step inside that room; too many memories. He set the bag on the floor inside, and closed the door again.
Clay walked back to the living room, looking around. Nothing had changed in the months since he had last been here. He didn't know why they should have. Everything was in its place, not cluttered, neat as a pin. Clay saw her quilt loom in the bay window, and walked over to it. He remembered the first time he had seen it, what he had said, and heard her answer echoing back. 'What's this?' he had asked. 'A birdbath. What does it look like?' he said aloud, with a smile on his face remembering. It was the first smile that had crossed his face in days.
The loom did look like a birdbath, but it was missing a bowl.
Hanging over the edge was a new quilt she was working on; dark red and green and white. He could see some of the small stitches, but there was still more to do. Who will finish it now? His mind posed the question. 'She will finish it.' Clay answered aloud, as if saying it would make it so. Clay lifted it up to look at in the street light. How many times had he watched her at this loom? He would work on his computer across the room, and she would sew. Sometimes they had just enjoyed being together, enjoyed the companionship. He unfolded the quilt and filled his empty arms with it. He thought of the times he had cuddled under one of her quilts with her, the nights they had made love cocooned beneath one, warm and soft, sleeping through the night, arms and bodies intertwined.
Suddenly the past few days of fear, frustration and guilt swept over him. Sleep. God, I want to sleep. Escape into the dark. Clay moved over to the couch and lay down. He was asleep in moments, the quilt wrapped around him, and a tear drying on his cheek.