Author: Claire Vincent
Date May 2004
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 - 5 for the beginning of the story.
Summary: Amy has been found, and Clay leaves to be with her. But after all she has been through, will the two of them have a chance at a life together?
Chapter 6 Webb Odyssey
CIA Headquarters
Langley, VA
2117 hours local time
Director of Operations - Middle East, Marcus Stillman was walking down the hallway on the way to an agent's office. At this hour of the night, Langley was pretty quiet, but this was a government building, and it was never completely quiet. He wasn't sure if the agent would still be here, but Director Stillman had to check. He had some news, and it was the type of news you delivered in person, in the agent's office. If the agent was gone, Director Stillman would have to make a trip over to the agent's house. It was also the type of news that could not wait until morning.
The agent was Clayton Webb. Marcus liked Clay, had known him for years here at CIA, and had even worked with him a couple of times in the field. He knew Clay's last mission in Iraq had been a tough one. Marcus had seen Clay's mission objectives before they had left, and had secretly questioned Clay's choice of team members. He knew the two JAG officers were friends, and he also knew of Clay's past relationship with Major Harris. Langley was an office building like any other in America, complete with a gossip grapevine. He paid attention to it, just for information, and this time the information had paid off. Poor Clay. He was a good agent, and a good man, and sometimes it was hard to be both in this business.
He arrived at Clay's office and looked inside a minute before knocking. Clay was sitting behind his desk, looking intently at a small picture frame. He looked beat. Not just tired, beat, worn out. Marcus thought again about who was really the captive in these situations, the one held by the enemy, or their loved ones at home, waiting for news. Marcus had the news, but he was not sure if it was good or bad yet. Clay would decide that for him. He knocked on the door.
Clay was started by the knock, and hastily put the picture frame down on his desk and looked up. He was surprised to see it was Marcus Stillman. 'Hello Marcus, come in.'
'I hope I'm not disturbing you Clay. I wasn't sure if you would still be here at this hour.' Marcus said, still standing in the doorway.
'No, you aren't disturbing me, come in.' Clay said as he stood up behind his desk.
Marcus nodded and stepped into the office. He closed the door behind him. This was a signal to Clay. 'Clay, sit down.' Marcus said, as he moved toward the two chairs in front of Clay's desk. He had news, Clay thought. This was the moment he had both hoped for, and dreaded in the past days.
Marcus sat down in one chair, and indicated the chair beside him for Clay to use. Clay just moved in front of his desk, and leaned against it, holding on to the edge with a vice grip that turned his knuckles white. So, that's how it is, is it? Marcus thought.
Clay leaned against his desk, his gaze locked on Marcus for any sign. She's dead a voice in his head said. Get ready for it. Clay swallowed once, tried his voice. 'Is a… is there any news?' he asked.
'Yes' Marcus answered. 'A couple of hours ago, a Marine patrol, much like the one you were attached with, but not the same one, found an abandoned encampment.' He stopped there, for he saw that Clay wasn't really listening to these details, he was only listening for one thing. Best to just get it out. 'They found Major Harris, Clay. She's alive.'
Clay breathed in, and exhaled slowly, whispering 'Thank God. Thank you God.' Clay's mind was reeling, his knees went weak under him, and he leaned more on the desk behind him. 'Alive. You're sure?' he asked, not sure he had heard correctly.
'Yes, they are sure it is Major Harris. They matched the description of her.' Marcus said.
'How is she? Is she all right? What has she said?' a hundred questions popped into Clay's head, and he couldn't get them out fast enough.
'I'll tell you everything I know, Clay.' Marcus said. He started the details again; Clay was ready for them now. 'The marine patrol found this encampment. It had been used in the last couple of days, but was deserted now. The Marines went in to try and find anything helpful the group may have left behind. There was one building, Major Harris was found locked in a room below ground.' He paused here; he wasn't sure how to say what was coming next.
'What Marcus? What else?' Clay was impatient, he needed more information.
'She has been badly beaten Clay. We think she had been left there to die. Another few hours, or another day, and we might have been too late.'
'How bad, Marcus?' Clay was fighting to hold back his imagination as to her injuries. But he had to know how bad she was hurt.
'Clay, I just don't know. The medics with the Marine patrol patched her up as best they could, and flew her in a chopper back to their base. From there, the medics were able to do a little more, but they don't have the equipment to check for all possible injuries. She has not regained consciousness since being found, she has a broken arm, but other than that, we won't know for a while.'
'Where is she now?' Clay asked quickly.
'She is being prepped to fly to the US Army Hospital in Baghdad. She will get the best care there.' Marcus answered.
'Then I'm going to Baghdad.' Clay stated, and moved to pick up his things behind his desk. He was finished talking with Marcus. He had told Clay all he knew. Amy was alive, and needed him, and he was going to her, finally.
'Clayton wait.' Marcus said.
'Don't try and stop me Marcus. You won't succeed.' Clay stated.
'Clay, I won't stop you, but listen to me.' He waited until Clay looked at him again. 'If you want to go to be with her, I understand. But I will let you go over there only to be with her. If you make any move toward finding out more about this insurgent group, I'll send an agent after you to take you out, so help me… This can not become a personal trip for revenge.' Marcus wanted to make this perfectly clear.
'You have my word, Marcus. I am going there to be with Am…Major Harris.'
'Clay. I don't know her, but, do you think she will want to see you, after all of this?' Marcus asked gently. He did not blame Clay for what happened. Marcus himself was partly to blame, since he was the one who ordered Clay home, and would not let him stay to look for the Major. But the Major didn't know all that, and may blame Clay.
Clay replied, 'I do know her, and she may not want to see me. But I have to see her, or at least see that she is all right, and being taken care of, even if she won't talk to me. I just have to be there with her, Marcus. That's the only explanation I can give.' He finished weakly.
Marcus nodded in understanding. 'There is a military flight taking off from Andrews for Baghdad in 2 hours. There is a seat on it for you.'
'Thank you Marcus' Clay said, and left the office. Marcus was still unsure whether the news he had just shared was good or bad for Clay. He hoped it all worked out for Clay somehow.
Clayton Webb's Townhouse
Alexandria, VA
2205 local time
Clay went home, threw some things into a bag and was about to head out when he remembered something he had to do first. He picked up his phone and dialed a number. The phone rang 2, 3 times and was answered by a sleepy voice.
'Yes, Hello?'
'Sarah, its Clay.'
He realized it was getting late to be calling, and felt bad that he had woke her up, but he knew once she heard the news, she wouldn't mind the interruption.
'What is it Clay?' she asked, sounding more awake now.
'I apologize about calling at this hour, but I couldn't wait.' Clay said.
'Wait for what, what is it?' Clay could tell she was expecting news, bad news, the same way he had when Marcus stepped into his office.
'I got the news tonight. The Marines have found Amy. She is alive. She is hurt but alive. They are flying her to the Army hospital in Baghdad.
'Alive! That's wonderful.' Sarah almost shouted. 'How is she hurt? Is she all right?'
'We don't know all of her injuries. We only know she has a broken arm for sure. I will find out more when I get there. There is a military flight leaving…in fact I better get going. I just wanted you to know. Please pass the good news along to everyone. Clay asked.
'Of course. It will be a pleasure to pass this news along. Oh, I wish I was going with you to see her. Please give her my love.' Sarah requested.
'I will.' Said Clay, along with mine he thought, if she'll take it.
'Call us soon, let us know how she is doing.' Sarah asked before he had to go.
'Yes, we will.' Clay answered. 'And Sarah,…Thanks for everything.' he added.
'Take care Clay.' Sarah said, and hung up.
Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean
Military flight to Baghdad
The flight to Baghdad was long, noisy, and uncomfortable, but Clay hardly noticed. His mind and heart were focused on one thing, getting to Amy.
Marcus Stillman had voiced the one thing Clay was afraid to think about, but he had the time on the flight to think, and it wouldn't stop nagging him. What if Amy didn't want to see him? What if she refused to talk with him?
He couldn't blame her if she did refuse to talk to him. He had dragged her on this mission against her wishes, and had almost gotten her killed.
And what about her health? How badly was she hurt? Was he still in danger of losing her?
It was pointless to try and answer any of these questions now. He will find out the answers once they landed. He would just have to wait. He hoped he could at least talk to her, see that she was all right, and make sure she didn't need anything. He wouldn't pressure her to talk to him if she didn't want to. At least not until she was stronger, feeling better. He loved her. He just had to be able to tell her that and hope…he didn't want to live without her.
Baghdad, Iraq
1800 hours local time
When the plane landed, Clay was met by a young CIA agent working here in the Station office. He introduced himself as Byrnes, Will Byrnes. He had been sent to pick up Agent Webb at the airport, and take him into the city. He asked Clay if he wanted to go to his quarters first.
'Quarters?' Clay asked. He hadn't even thought about where he would stay while here.
'Yes Sir.' Byrnes answered. 'There is a hotel that most of the US officers working at the hospital are living at, and we have secured a room for you there. It's not much, more like a dorm really, but it's clean. Do you want to go there and get settled first? It is just a block or so from the hospital.'
'No. Take my bag over to the room if you would. I want to go to the hospital first.' He was going to see her very soon. He was happy and excited and worried all at the same time. He would not be able to do anything, until he saw her.
Byrnes drove him to the US Army Hospital in the city, and dropped him off at the front entrance, then drove off to bring Clay's bag to his room.
The hospital entrance was blocked by reporters, photographers, press everywhere. Some were just standing around; others were filing reports in front of cameras and lights. Clay was able to make a path, and enter the hospital without being stopped. He couldn't imagine what the press was here for, and then it dawned on him that Amy was here, and the story had broke that she had been found. It would be all over the news, how she was found, and what her injuries where, who had found her. Maybe even what her mission had been in the first place. He hoped the story would be kept quiet, but he was sure that was all ready too late. He vowed right here to do everything he could to keep them away from Amy. He would have to be careful not to let the reporters find out who he was, or his connection to Amy. The last thing he needed was to be hounded by the press as the CIA agent that had put America's new hero in danger.
Once inside the building, Clay went over to the desk marked "INFORMATION". A tall young Marine was standing behind the desk, 'Yes?' he asked eyeing Clay carefully.
'I'd like to see Major Harris, please. What room is she in' Clay asked politely.
'Who wants to know?' the Marine asked back accusingly.
Clayton was tired from the flight, and the past week he had spent. He was not happy to have to get past this "pit bull" to see Amy. But he tried to remember the Marine was only doing his job, and it was "pit bulls" like him that would help keep the media away from Amy too.
'My name is Clayton Webb.' He pulled out his CIA ID badge and showed it to the Marine.
'Another CIA agent? You come to question her more? Hasn't she had enough of that?' the Marine retorted.
'Questions? No, I'm not here to question her.' Clay answered a bit confused. 'Have other agents been here to question her?'
'Two other agents were already here earlier. Mueller and Lovack' the Marine told him, consulting the sign in sheet in front of him. 'They didn't stay long.'
'Look, I just flew in from Washington. I'm a friend of Major Harris' and I just want to see her. See if she is all right.' Clay finished. Why does he have to explain himself to this young marine?
'Well,' the marine stared, looking Clay up and down. 'You can go up, and check with the nurses up there to see if Major Harris is up to seeing anyone.' Clay felt a surge of relief at this. 'Go up the stairs to the third floor. Take a left at the top. It's the nurses' station at the end of the hall.'
'Thank you.' Clay said, and started up the stairs behind the Information desk, taking them two at a time.
He made it upstairs and walked down the hallway. 'I'm going to see her. I hope she will see me.' He kept thinking. He came to the nurses' desk and was stopped there by an African American woman standing there glaring at him, dislike and contempt written all over her face. Her ID around her neck read Dorothy M. and the picture there matched the one looking at him now. 'You Webb' she asked without preamble.
'Yes.' He answered.
'Let's see that ID, Mr. Webb.' He took it from his pocket and showed it to her. Her eyes got a little wider, and she looked back at his face. 'You're Clayton Webb?'
Clay nodded, 'People call you Clay.'
'Yes' though he did not want her calling him that. He hoped she would not notice him at all after this. He didn't understand why she was interested in his first name.
'Major Harris is not really receiving visitors right now.' Nurse Dorothy informed him.
'I've come a long way to see her. I think, I hope she will see me.' He was standing outside her room right now. He wasn't sure he could walk away after getting this close. He had to see her.
Nurse Dorothy kept looking at him, thinking it over. Finally she said 'I guess I can go ask her if she wants to see you now.'
'Thank you.' Clay answered politely. Clayton held his breath as he watched her enter the room behind the nurses' station. In a moment, Nurse Dorothy came back out with a frown on her face. Clay took that as a good sign.
'Major Harris said she will see Mr. Webb, but keep it short, she needs rest.'
The room was long and narrow, with 3 beds on both sides of the room. There was a set of windows at the end of the room, and the last light of the evening was coming through them. All the beds were empty except the last one on the right, near the window. A curtain was drawn on one side of the bed; Clay could only see some feet under bed covers to tell anyone was there; that and the soft beep of monitor equipment.
As Clay approached the bed, his heart beat faster, and his palms got sweaty. Suddenly he was afraid.
He came around the end of the bed and saw her. She was lying on her side, facing the windows, propped up on her side by several pillows. The arm that was on top, was wrapped and in a sling. The other was lying straight out in front of her. She had on an oxygen tube wrapped over her ears, and resting under her nose. She wore a hospital gown. Whatever part of her that was not covered by gown or blanket or bandage was black and blue, cut or swollen. Some of the bruises were fading to a purplish green. One eye was swollen; the other had a cut near the top that was held together by surgical tape. Both eyes were closed.
Clayton felt weak. He wanted to cry, or scream, or punch something in rage. All he managed to do was whisper her name. 'Amy. My God, Amy what have they done to you?' He crouched down so his face was level with hers. He wanted to touch her, comfort her, take her in his arms and take all the pain onto himself. But he didn't dare touch her, fearing he might hurt her. He gently took the hand that was laying in front of her in both of his, and said 'Amy. It's me, Clay. I'm here.'
'Clay?' Her eyes opened and she weakly closed her hand on his. 'Clay. What are you doing here?'
'I came to see you.' He said.
She didn't seem to hear him. 'Clay, are you all right?' She was searching his face with her eyes. 'You're not hurt?'
'Me, no. I'm fine' why was she asking these questions? Why would he be hurt? He didn't understand.
'And Sarah, Harm where are they?' she asked.
'They are in Washington. They send their love.' Then it hit him. The last time he had talked to her they were in the hills. She had been taken away and never knew if they had gotten back safely, or had been found and killed. She was concerned about him, while she lay in a hospital bed, covered with bruises.
'We are fine.' He assured her. 'We got out, got back to the Marine base just fine. You were the only one taken.'
'Clay, I was so scared. I didn't know what happened.' She began to cry. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
This was more than Clay could take. 'No, please don't cry.' He began to gently wipe the tears off her cheek with one hand, while tears filled his own eyes. 'We are all fine. And you are safe now. That is all that matters.'
Amy continued on. She was so tired, could not keep her eyes open, but she had to know. Her voice was growing weaker, but she pressed on at a whisper. 'The Marines. I was so afraid to ask anyone, but I have to know. Please tell me.'
Clay wanted to help calm her, but didn't know what she was talking about. 'What about the Marines?'
'Are they all right? Was the base attached?' she asked.
Was this what those thugs wanted to know, what they tried to get out of her? Clay thought. He was going to put an end to their hold on her right now. 'Amy, the Marine base is safe, I assure you. They moved it and it was never found. None of them were hurt. I promise.'
It was as if she had not heard him, she couldn't let go. 'I was so cold. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't remember if I said anything. Clayton, I can't remember.' And she began crying again, harder.
'Shhh, it's all right. Everyone is safe. Please believe me, and stop worrying. You didn't tell them anything.' He was sure of this. She would not have been in such bad shape if she had told them anything.
His words were starting to sink in, past the pain and fog in her mind. 'Everyone is OK?'
'Yes, I promise.' He wiped the tears from her face with the edge of the sheet and sat back to just look at her. What had she been through? It didn't bare thinking about right now.
Amy opened her eyes, and really looked at Clay. His cheeks were wet too from crying, but he smiled at her when he saw her eyes. 'Clay, what are you doing here?'
His smile got wider. 'I came to see you. I had to make sure you were all right. I've been so worried….' His eyes filled again, and he tried to blink them clear. 'I was so afraid I lost you.' He whispered.
Amy wasn't sure he should be here anymore. She wanted to be in his arms so much, to feel his love again, but if it truly wasn't there, she wasn't strong enough to face him. 'Clayton, I don't want your pity, or your guilt. Maybe you better…'
He cut her off, 'Will you take my love?' There it was, his heart laid bare. 'Amy, I've been such a damn fool. I can't stop loving you. Its not pity or guilt. I just love you, and need you. I'm lost without you.'
'Mr. Webb.' A stern voice broke in from beside the curtain. 'It's time you should be going. Major Harris needs her rest.'
Clay stood up, and faced Nurse Dorothy. 'Just a couple more minutes, please, and then I'll go.' My life is on the line here, he wanted to say. Can't I have two more minutes to see what that life will be? He couldn't say the words, but hoped his request for a few more minutes would be enough.
'All right.' Said Nurse Dorothy reluctantly. 'I'll give you two minutes, and then I'm coming in here and taking you out myself.' And she turned on her heel and stomped out.
Clay looked down at Amy. It almost looked liked she was smiling. He crouched back down beside her. 'Amy'
Her eyes opened, and she was smiling. 'Clay.' She said. 'God help me, but I never stopped loving you either. I couldn't. I tried.' She closed her eyes again.
Clay could hardly believe his ears. She still loved him. After everything he had done, all the pain he had caused her. She still loved him. His heart soared, and he felt a little light headed.
Amy was too tired to keep her eyes open any more. 'I wish you didn't have to go.'
'Me too.' He said. 'I'd sleep on the floor beside you and be happy, if they let me.'
'They won't.' came her answer. Though she was pleased he wanted to stay too.
Her voice was getting sleepy. 'I better go.' Clay said, but he hated to leave. 'I'm not far away, and I'll be back tomorrow. I promise.'
'Good' she said. Clay stood up again and just watched her for a moment. He looked through the bruises to the beautiful woman sleeping in front of him. He moved to go, but she would not let go of his hand. 'Tell me again.' She said. He smiled and poured his heart into the words. 'I love you, Amelia Harris.'
'I love you too, Spook.' And her hand relaxed. He knew she was asleep. He leaned down and kissed her ever so lightly on her forehead. When he straightened up, Dorothy was looking at him. 'Major Harris' doctor is here. He wants to talk to you.'
Perfect, thought Clay. Just the man I want to see.
The young man was looking at a file at the nurses' desk when Clay came out of Amy's room. Clay looked at him carefully. He hardly looked old enough to bandage a skinned knee, and he looked tired. Everybody looked tired in Baghdad these days, Clay thought.
The doctor finished with the file, closed it, and looked up at Clay. 'Jon Griffith, I'm Major Harris' primary physician. And you are Mr. Webb?' he said, and extended his hand. Clay shook his hand. 'Yes, nice to meet you Dr. Griffith.'
'So, you are Clayton?' the doctor asked, looking him over.
'You are the second person to say that to me since I arrived here.' Clay said, glancing at Nurse Dorothy. She met his gaze, and then looked at the paper work on her desk. Dr. Griffith glanced at her too. Picking up the folder in front of him, he took a step toward the hallway. 'My shift is almost over. Why don't you and I have a private talk, Mr. Webb?' Clay nodded and followed the young doctor down the hall.
The two men went down several flights of stairs to the basement. There was a cafeteria of sorts there. Dr. Griffith entered the line, and picked up a sandwich and carton of milk. 'When was the last time you ate anything Webb?' he asked.
'I don't even remember.' Came the truthful answer.
'Get a sandwich' the doctor suggested. 'They are not great, but they are safer than the mystery casserole.'
Clay picked up a sandwich and carton of milk too. The doctor paid for their dinners, saying 'I get a discount.' And then they went to a table, away from the other personal in the dining hall.
After sitting down, the doctor got right to the point. 'What exactly is your relationship to Major Harris?' he asked Clay.
He was taken aback by the forthrightness of the question, and was not prepared to tell this doctor everything, but Clay did understand he wanted only to protect Amy, like everyone else seemed to in the hospital, and Clay had to respect that. 'Major Harris and I are friends. She was working for me, on my mission, when she was captured.'
Dr. Griffith thought there was more to it than that, and what Dorothy had told him she had overheard between this Webb and Major Harris, confirmed his suspicions, but he would not push Webb for more. At least not right now. He had looked closely at Webb and saw a few very telling things. The doctor couldn't help himself, he started diagnosing Mr. Webb. Dark circles under his eyes, hollow cheeks, and an undercurrent of guilt, over what had happened on "his mission" and what he had seen of Major Harris upstairs. Webb had not been taking care of himself lately, that was apparent, and the thickness in his voice, the distress in his eyes, said more to Dr. Griffith than any words Clayton Webb had said so far.
'You will have to forgive my being so blunt, Mr. Webb. You saw the press outside the hospital?' he asked, and Clayton nodded as he chewed a bite of his sandwich. 'They want every detail about Major Harris they can get, and we want to be very careful what information is given out. Major Harris has not said much, at least not to me, but she made it clear she does not want the whole world to know what happened to her. She is ashamed of her injuries, embarrassed, and she doesn't need that kind of attention. No one does.' The doctor finished, and took a bite of his own sandwich.
'I assure you doctor,' Clayton said, 'I have no intention of talking to the press, or exposing Amy, Major Harris, to anything that might hurt her more.'
'I'm glad to hear it.' Jon said. 'There have been two other CIA agents already knocking on her door, wanting to question her. I didn't have the authority to keep them out completely, but I am trying. She needs rest. There will be time later, when she is stronger to debrief her, right?' he was hoping he could have an ally in Webb, to keep the other agents out for a while.
Clay was happy to help. 'Of course. There is no need to start with that right now.'
'Could you get those other agents to back off a while?' Jon asked hopefully.
'Yes' Clay said confidently. If anyone bothered Amy right now, they would have to get through him first.
'You would be my own personal hero, Mr. Webb.'
'Doctor, what are Amy,….Major Harris' injuries? How badly hurt is she?' Clay asked carefully. He was a little afraid of the answer, but had to ask.
Doctor Griffith decided to let Webb in the circle of protection around Major Harris. 'Mr. Webb. Only about 12 people know the full extend of her injuries, and we want to keep that number small. Less people who know, the less chance of details leaking out. Whoever held Major Harris captive tried very hard to beat her to death, and they nearly succeeded. She is one big bruise from the top of her head to her toes.' Dr. Griffith said sadly.
Clay had seen the evidence, but it wasn't any easier to hear the news. He stopped eating, and gave the doctor his full attention.
'The worst injury is the broken arm. That may need surgery, but will have to wait until she is strong enough to make the trip home. She has broken ribs, bruised ribs, bruised stomach, liver, kidneys, …'
As each one was listed, Clay's heart sank deeper, and his stomach turned.
Dr. Griffith went on. He didn't want to, but had to list a couple more things before he was finished. 'The first night she told us they marched all night. They took way her boots, made her march barefoot. Her feet are now cut up and bruised too. Then the last night, they took some kind of riding crop, whipped her back, 12 or 15 times. Those cuts and the cuts on her feet are infected. She will carry scars the rest of her life.' The doctor stopped here. Webb had grown a little pale, he had heard enough. Dr. Griffith looked at the folder that was sitting on the side of their table. 'It may sound a bit morbid, but we took pictures. Just incase the …they were ever captured and tried. It's all in there.' He nodded toward the file. 'I need some coffee.' He said, and left Webb to look, or not look at the pictures in private. It also gave Webb the chance to pull himself together alone. No man needed to hear this kind of news about someone he obviously cared about, with an audience. Dr. Griffith stood, and moved away from the table.
Clay was sick and numb inside. Tears gathered again in his eyes, along with rage. He slid the folder closer, forcing his hands to move, to open the folder. Some snapshots were on top. As photography went, the pictures were not very good; bad lighting, crooked angles. But the pictures told the story well enough. For modesty sake, a towel had been laid across Amy's breasts and hips, but the bruises were every where, and they did not stop at the edge of the towel. They were large, and purple, and shiny from the injury as well as the flash of the camera. Clayton looked at only a couple, before the half of the sandwich he had just eaten threatened to come back up. He hastily closed the folder again, and tried to gain control of himself, thankful he was alone. He took some deep breaths, and drank down the last of his milk, thinking it might help settle his stomach. He reminded himself again that Amy was upstairs. She was safe, and her injuries were being tended to. Everything would be all right.
After a couple of minutes, Dr. Griffith sat back down at the table and looked at Clay. 'The good news is that she is alive, and will make it. It will just take time. We can make her comfortable, cure the infections, but rest is the thing that will make her well. With that said,' he paused, and looked Clay in the eye. 'I will let you have open visiting privileges to Major Harris. You may come and go as you like while you are here. But if you abuse these privileges, Mr. Webb, I will take them away. Major Harris needs rest. Nothing will get in the way of that. I'll make sure of it.'
'I understand Doctor. Thank you. I won't get in the way.' Clay promised. 'And, I plan on staying here until Major Harris is ready to go home. I will bring her home myself.' He said.
This also told Dr. Griffith a lot, of what really was between Mr. Webb and his patient. 'Well then,' he said, 'you may as well call me Jon. Where will you be staying, Webb?'
'I guess at some former hotel nearby.' Clay said.
'Yes, I'm there, as are most of the officers here at the hospital. It's not the Hilton, but it's not too bad. Sort of like the dorm at college.'
Memories of Clay's college days streaked through his mind. Not all of them good of the dorm he had lived in on campus. 'Great.' he said.
'Why don't we go and check one more time on our mutually favorite patient, then I will walk over to the 'dorm' with you, and get you settled.' Jon offered.
'Thank you Jon. And it's Clay.' Then he paused, remembering something as the two of them stood up with their food trays. 'That reminds me. You never told me why everyone seems so interested in my name.'
Jon smiled a little, before answering. It wasn't an easy thing to describe. 'Major Harris has been here a little over 30 hours. When we weren't poking her, or taking pictures, or asking questions, she slept. But it hadn't been very restful…she has nightmares.' The doctor stopped here, watching for a reaction, he got it. Webb knew about nightmares, too. 'She cries out your name in her sleep, Clay.'
Clay had no answer to this. The sick feeling came back. Knowing her injuries, what she had been through, was too much. But knowing she had cried out for him, left a hole inside him.
The doctor left that in the air between them, and turned to go back upstairs to Amy's room. Clay followed a few steps behind.
When they arrived back at the nurses' station on the 3rd floor, Dr. Griffith stopped there and gave instructions to Nurse Dorothy. '…And, I am making a note in Major Harris' chart that Mr. Webb be given every courtesy and allowed to visit at any time.' He looked at Clay seriously, 'However, if I hear that he is here too much, and is Major Harris is not getting enough rest, I will cancel all visiting.' Clay nodded his understanding, and saw Dorothy smile a little as she answered 'Yes, Sir'. She gave Clay a look, daring him to go too far, and warning him that she would be keeping an eye on him.
Dr. Griffith sort of winked at Clay. 'Go on in and check on her, and then we will go over to the hotel.'
Clay quietly entered Amy's room and approached the bed. She lay very peacefully there, breathing deeply. He didn't wish to wake her. He gently moved some hair off her forehead, and saw a part of her that was not bruised. This he gently kissed, with all the love in his heart. 'Goodnight, beautiful.' He whispered, and then left the room.
US Army Hospital
Baghdad, Iraq
1055 local time
Over the next few days Clay was a frequent visitor to the room on the third floor. The nurses got to know him, and noticed how attentive he was to Major Harris, which made him all right in their books, even if he was CIA.
Clay also talked to Agents Mueller and Lovack, the two who had tried to question Amy as soon as she arrived at the hospital. He told them he would be taking over Amy's case, and they need not bother her anymore. They were not too pleased with this arrangement, but there wasn't much they could do about it. Amy would be debriefed, but by someone he picked in the agency.
When he wasn't with Amy at the hospital, Clay worked on Intel reports from the Baghdad station office. He analyzed information on the insurgent group that he would have seen in Washington anyway, and reports on trouble makers in the area. He also talked to Marcus Stillman, and kept Harm and Sarah updated on Amy's recovery.
Amy was able to rest more comfortably now that she knew everyone was safe. She grew stronger everyday. The bruises were fading, and her cuts were healing. She was able to sit up in a chair for short times each day also.
One day, as Clay came up to the nurses' station to visit, the nurse on duty stopped him, saying he could not go in just yet. 'Major Harris is getting cleaned up.' She said.
Clay waited, and in a few minutes a young, good looking Hispanic man came out of the room, pushing a low cart with cloths, towels, soap and things on it. 'Thanks Juan.' The nurse said. 'You're welcome.' Juan answered. 'She keeps looking better each day, don't you think Cathy?' Juan asked Nurse Cathy, referring to Amy. 'Yes she does. See you later.' And Juan walked on down the hall.
Clay watched this exchange, and had mixed feelings about it, but before he could put a name to those feelings, Nurse Cathy looked at him, and said 'You can go in now Mr. Webb.'
Clay walked into Amy's room. She was lying down with her eyes closed and a very satisfied smile on her lips. Clay did not like this at all, and said a little harshly, 'Hey Jarhead, you look like the cat that swallowed the canary.'
'Hello, Spook' answered Amy, not opening here eyes. 'I just had a bath, and I feel much more human. I have to look good you know.'
'Oh, do you?' Clay asked, playing along.
'Yes' she answered. 'My boyfriend is coming to see me.'
'Oh.' Clay said leaning over to give her a kiss. 'Lucky guy.'
US Army Hospital
Baghdad, Iraq
1105 local time
A few days later, Clay was walking to the hospital and was enjoying the warm spring day. The sun was shining, and there was hardly any breeze. It was a beautiful day, and it gave him an idea.
He looked for Dr. Griffith in the hospital and talked to him before going up to Amy's room, with a few extra supplies. She was in bed, and glad to see him. She was also surprised by what he had brought. A wheelchair, pillows and an extra blanket. 'What's all that for?' she asked him.
'It's a beautiful day outside, and I thought you would like some fresh air. There is a small courtyard in back of the hospital, I thought we could take a stroll and enjoy the morning.'
Amy smiled. 'Its sounds wonderful. Seems like I haven't been outside in ages.' She watched Clay move the wheelchair around to the side of the bed and start arranging the pillows for her to sit on. 'But….ah Clay' she said.
'Uhmmm' he answered, still arranging. 'You will have to help me into the chair.' Amy hated to have to ask him for help, she didn't want him to know how weak she still was, but she did wish to go outside with him.
'I know' he said. 'I'll just lift you up and set you down, no trouble.' Having arranged the chair the way he thought would be most comfortable for her; he came over to the bed and pushed aside the sheets and blankets so he could lift her. 'Put your good arm around my neck, and we will tuck the other one right here.' He said, moving her arm in the sling to her lap. He then put his other arm under her knees and Amy said, 'Now be careful. Don't hurt yourself.' She was nervous; the last thing she wanted was him to hurt his back lifting her.
'I'm fine. I've lifted you before, haven't I?' he said, remembering a few times he had lifted her and carried her to bed.
'Yes, but I can't help much,…' she started but he interrupted. 'I'm fine. On three.' He bent his knees and braced himself to lift her out of the bed and put her in the chair beside him. 'One, two three…' and he lifted. He was not prepared for how light she felt. He had not taken into account that she had not eaten any food as a prisoner, and wasn't even eating more that some broth and toast so far at the hospital since her stomach and other organs were healing. She had always been lean, but she hardly seemed to weigh more than a child. She must have lost 20 pounds he thought, and she could hardly spare the weight.
She moaned a little in his arms, and it brought him out of his surprised thoughts. 'Did I hurt you?' he asked anxiously.
'No. It just feels so good to be in your arms.' She said, snuggling a little closer to him, and rested her head on his shoulder.
She was right. It did feel good to be holding her in his arms. They had exchanged chaste kisses over the past days, but he had not been able to hold her, had been afraid to, thinking that touching her would cause her pain.
Amy could have stayed there in Clay's arms all day. It felt so good to be safe like this again. She had wanted this since she had seen him at her bedside. 'Can I stay right here, just for a minute?' she asked. 'Or am I getting too heavy?'
'We can stay like this all day if you want.' Clay answered, and he just stood there and enjoyed the moment with her. They were together, and nothing was going to pull them apart again.
He did finally place her gently in the chair, tucked in the blanket around her legs and lead her outside.
As they were walking around the courtyard, Amy asked him 'Clay, since you saw Juan, the clerk that had cleaned me up that one morning, I haven't seen him.'
'Really?' Clay said innocently.
'Yes. Only female clerks have been coming in to clean me up and comb my hair.' Amy said, knowing full well where she was going with this subject.
Clay made no response to this, so Amy went on. 'I asked the nurses where Juan was, because I had liked him, and they said there had been a complaint and that he had been assigned to another floor.'
'Hmmm' was the only response she received from Clay.
'Clayton Webb! You were jealous and you had Juan sent to another floor!' Amy said rather angrily.
'I do have green eyes.' he said a little too playfully.
'I'm serious.' Amy said. 'I don't want a complaint to go on his record. He was very good, and respectful, and I at least had no problem with him.' Amy answered.
'I will make sure the complaint does not go on his record.' Clay reassured her. 'But I was jealous of a young, good looking man bathing you. I should be the one doing that, and since the hospital won't let me, because I have volunteered my services with Dr. Griffith, I wasn't going to let any other man do that job either. So, I asked for female clerks to take over that duty, until you can do it yourself.' So ended that discussion.
They came to a bench in the sunshine, and Clay parked the wheelchair beside it, and he sat down, facing her. There were some things he wanted to talk to her about in private, and this was as private as they could get in the hospital.
She turned her face up to the sun and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, with a smile on her face. 'This is nice.' She sighed. Clay thought she looked so pretty. 'I could just curl up like a cat a sleep here all day.' Then she remembered the day she had followed the sun from the window in the room, how she had tried to sleep, tried to stay warm. The smile disappeared from her face, and she dropped her head, trying to get that image from her mind. Clay noticed the shadow that crossed her face.
'You all right?' he asked anxiously, wondering if she was in pain, or uncomfortable.
'I'm fine.' She looked at him and smiled again, and tried again to enjoy the sun.
'Clay, when will you have to return to Washington?' she asked, still facing the sky. She had become very spoiled having him around everyday, and knew it wouldn't last. She was preparing herself for when he would have to leave.
'I'm not leaving until you are ready to leave with me.' He stated. She brought her head down, and turned to look at him, surprised. 'No' she said. 'Yes' he said more strongly. 'No,' she continued over him. 'I won't have you waiting for me. It could be a couple of weeks, Clay. You will get bored and…'
'Bored! When I have you to myself everyday? Besides, there is work to do here in the Baghdad Station office, I won't get bored.' He said with a sly smile.
Amy became a little frightened at this. 'No Clay. I don't want you to go after these people. Please, stay away from them.' She was afraid the "work" he was talking about was tracking down the group that had held her captive, and putting him in danger. That was the last thing she wanted.
Clay noticed how anxious she had become, just at the mention of his work, and tried to reassure her. 'This trip is to be with you. Really. I'm under strict orders not to go after them, at least not right now. But I will track them down eventually, Amy. I promise you that.' This seemed to calm her a little. 'The work I am doing now is analyzing information coming directly into the station from their network here. That's all, I promise.'
Amy was relieved, but still didn't want him waiting around for her, until she was well enough to be sent home. 'But Clay, it might be weeks before I'm ready to travel.'
'I've talked with Dr. Griffith. It might be a couple of weeks, but then the best place for you will be the hospitals in the US. If you need surgery on your arm, it should be done there, where there is more staff, and the best doctors. We will take you home before you know it. I'm staying here with you, no matter what. I left without you once before, I won't do it again. Besides, I like having you to myself.' He said lightly, trying to joke with her.
They sat quietly for a moment. Then Clay asked, 'The station here has pictures of known trouble makers Amy. When you are stronger, would you be willing to look at a few? See if there is anyone you recognize?' He hated to ask, but it was a good opportunity to try and identify some of the insurgents.
'I'll look at the pictures. I will only really be able to identify the leader. His face I'll never forget.' She said dryly. 'But later, all right? I'm not ready yet.'
He understood. 'Of course.' As long as the subject had been brought up, he wanted to ask another question.
'Amy, you will have to be debriefed eventually.' Clay said, hating to bring up the obvious. 'You and I could start while you are still here. We could take it a little at a time.'
'No.' Amy stated emphatically.
'It might be easier to talk to me, tell me some of the tougher parts.' Clay tried to explain. 'I could tell how strong you were and stop when I saw that it was getting to tough for you…'
'No Clay. I won't…' Amy started.
'Amy you have to talk eventually, to me or someone else. It may be easier to talk to me.'
'Clay I will talk to whoever you want me to. I will answer the questions, make my statement. I just don't want to tell you what happened. I don't know how to explain it.' She said helplessly.
'I can help you; I can support you, Amy. It might be easier…'
'Clay.' Amy interrupted him. 'Why haven't you ever told me about what happened to you in Paraguay?'
Clay didn't understand where that question came from. And he had not really thought about it before. He knew Amy knew about some of the things that had happened in Paraguay, but they had never discussed it. She had been there to see the nightmares that still plagued him now and then, and he expected that she and Sarah may have discussed it too.
'I guess…I didn't want to tell you. I didn't feel like it was a part of us, part of what we shared. You know about the nightmares, and I thought that was more than enough.' He said in answer to her question.
'You are protecting me from what happened there.' She answered for him.
'Yes, maybe.' He said.
'Are you ashamed in any way for what happened?' she asked then thought better of it. 'On second thought you don't have to answer that.'
Amy continued. 'I am ashamed of what happened to me Clay. I feel I should have done more, tried harder. I didn't even try to escape. I was too weak, too afraid.' While she said this, she grew more agitated, but it felt good to get some of this off her chest. 'I was cold and scared, and I just let them do this to me!'
'Shh, you did nothing wrong. You kept the information to yourself; you did not give in to them. You did all you could.' He tried to assure her. 'You see, I can help you through all these things if I was there.' He saw this as proof of why he should be there to debrief her.
Amy saw it as proof he should not. 'I don't want to say these things, and have to watch you listen to them. I don't want to watch you imagine that room, and watch helplessly as I describe what went on there. Just like you, I want to protect you from what happened to me. Does that make sense?'
Clay would not want to tell her about the hut in Paraguay, the pain and fear there. And he could understand how she did not want to share that sort of pain and fear with him.
Her voice broke into his thoughts. 'I know you will read the report anyway. And you will see, and have seen my scars, Clay, so I will never be able to completely hide what happened to me there from you.' She said. 'But I don't want to watch you while you see them.'
'All right.' He said.
'All right.' She agreed. 'I will look at the pictures here; see if I recognize any of them. But not yet please. Give me a couple more days.'
'Of course.' He answered.
They sat quietly for a few more minutes, enjoying the sun. 'Amy, when we do go back home…will you marry me?' he asked. He had thought about it the past few days, spending time with her. He wanted a life where he could see her everyday, where they could share everything. He had not planned on just…coming out and saying it this way, but he couldn't stop himself.
Amy looked at him and smiled. 'I…don't know Clay. There is so much to be worked out between us. And I don't know what I will do when I get home. Will I still be able to be a Marine? Will I still be able to work? If not, what will I do?'
'Be my wife. You wouldn't have to work. Marry me, and we can have a family. You could sew all day if you wanted to. We could make a home together.' He was warming up to this idea.
'And I'll keep the home fires burning while you are out saving the world, I suppose?' she asked
'I'll leave CIA if you want me to. I can find other work in the government.' He said. He had not thought about that, but he could, if it meant he could have her as his wife.
'You would hate that, and then hate me.' Amy stated. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she looked at him again. 'Clay, can I just say we will wait and see? Let's see how things get worked out first? Let me be well, and feel like myself again before I say Yes?' she asked hopefully.
'As long as you are not saying No' he said hopefully. He knew it was too soon for her to make such a decision. They had only really been "back together" for a few days. It was unfair of him to ask her such a question yet.
'It is not No, but not Yes either.' She stated with a smile. 'Let's just enjoy now. I just want to be, Clay. I want to be strong again, and stay awake all day, and eat real food, and walk by myself.'
'You will do all those things, Amy. I'll make sure of it.' He promised, and sealed it with a kiss.
End of Chapter 6
Date May 2004
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 - 5 for the beginning of the story.
Summary: Amy has been found, and Clay leaves to be with her. But after all she has been through, will the two of them have a chance at a life together?
Chapter 6 Webb Odyssey
CIA Headquarters
Langley, VA
2117 hours local time
Director of Operations - Middle East, Marcus Stillman was walking down the hallway on the way to an agent's office. At this hour of the night, Langley was pretty quiet, but this was a government building, and it was never completely quiet. He wasn't sure if the agent would still be here, but Director Stillman had to check. He had some news, and it was the type of news you delivered in person, in the agent's office. If the agent was gone, Director Stillman would have to make a trip over to the agent's house. It was also the type of news that could not wait until morning.
The agent was Clayton Webb. Marcus liked Clay, had known him for years here at CIA, and had even worked with him a couple of times in the field. He knew Clay's last mission in Iraq had been a tough one. Marcus had seen Clay's mission objectives before they had left, and had secretly questioned Clay's choice of team members. He knew the two JAG officers were friends, and he also knew of Clay's past relationship with Major Harris. Langley was an office building like any other in America, complete with a gossip grapevine. He paid attention to it, just for information, and this time the information had paid off. Poor Clay. He was a good agent, and a good man, and sometimes it was hard to be both in this business.
He arrived at Clay's office and looked inside a minute before knocking. Clay was sitting behind his desk, looking intently at a small picture frame. He looked beat. Not just tired, beat, worn out. Marcus thought again about who was really the captive in these situations, the one held by the enemy, or their loved ones at home, waiting for news. Marcus had the news, but he was not sure if it was good or bad yet. Clay would decide that for him. He knocked on the door.
Clay was started by the knock, and hastily put the picture frame down on his desk and looked up. He was surprised to see it was Marcus Stillman. 'Hello Marcus, come in.'
'I hope I'm not disturbing you Clay. I wasn't sure if you would still be here at this hour.' Marcus said, still standing in the doorway.
'No, you aren't disturbing me, come in.' Clay said as he stood up behind his desk.
Marcus nodded and stepped into the office. He closed the door behind him. This was a signal to Clay. 'Clay, sit down.' Marcus said, as he moved toward the two chairs in front of Clay's desk. He had news, Clay thought. This was the moment he had both hoped for, and dreaded in the past days.
Marcus sat down in one chair, and indicated the chair beside him for Clay to use. Clay just moved in front of his desk, and leaned against it, holding on to the edge with a vice grip that turned his knuckles white. So, that's how it is, is it? Marcus thought.
Clay leaned against his desk, his gaze locked on Marcus for any sign. She's dead a voice in his head said. Get ready for it. Clay swallowed once, tried his voice. 'Is a… is there any news?' he asked.
'Yes' Marcus answered. 'A couple of hours ago, a Marine patrol, much like the one you were attached with, but not the same one, found an abandoned encampment.' He stopped there, for he saw that Clay wasn't really listening to these details, he was only listening for one thing. Best to just get it out. 'They found Major Harris, Clay. She's alive.'
Clay breathed in, and exhaled slowly, whispering 'Thank God. Thank you God.' Clay's mind was reeling, his knees went weak under him, and he leaned more on the desk behind him. 'Alive. You're sure?' he asked, not sure he had heard correctly.
'Yes, they are sure it is Major Harris. They matched the description of her.' Marcus said.
'How is she? Is she all right? What has she said?' a hundred questions popped into Clay's head, and he couldn't get them out fast enough.
'I'll tell you everything I know, Clay.' Marcus said. He started the details again; Clay was ready for them now. 'The marine patrol found this encampment. It had been used in the last couple of days, but was deserted now. The Marines went in to try and find anything helpful the group may have left behind. There was one building, Major Harris was found locked in a room below ground.' He paused here; he wasn't sure how to say what was coming next.
'What Marcus? What else?' Clay was impatient, he needed more information.
'She has been badly beaten Clay. We think she had been left there to die. Another few hours, or another day, and we might have been too late.'
'How bad, Marcus?' Clay was fighting to hold back his imagination as to her injuries. But he had to know how bad she was hurt.
'Clay, I just don't know. The medics with the Marine patrol patched her up as best they could, and flew her in a chopper back to their base. From there, the medics were able to do a little more, but they don't have the equipment to check for all possible injuries. She has not regained consciousness since being found, she has a broken arm, but other than that, we won't know for a while.'
'Where is she now?' Clay asked quickly.
'She is being prepped to fly to the US Army Hospital in Baghdad. She will get the best care there.' Marcus answered.
'Then I'm going to Baghdad.' Clay stated, and moved to pick up his things behind his desk. He was finished talking with Marcus. He had told Clay all he knew. Amy was alive, and needed him, and he was going to her, finally.
'Clayton wait.' Marcus said.
'Don't try and stop me Marcus. You won't succeed.' Clay stated.
'Clay, I won't stop you, but listen to me.' He waited until Clay looked at him again. 'If you want to go to be with her, I understand. But I will let you go over there only to be with her. If you make any move toward finding out more about this insurgent group, I'll send an agent after you to take you out, so help me… This can not become a personal trip for revenge.' Marcus wanted to make this perfectly clear.
'You have my word, Marcus. I am going there to be with Am…Major Harris.'
'Clay. I don't know her, but, do you think she will want to see you, after all of this?' Marcus asked gently. He did not blame Clay for what happened. Marcus himself was partly to blame, since he was the one who ordered Clay home, and would not let him stay to look for the Major. But the Major didn't know all that, and may blame Clay.
Clay replied, 'I do know her, and she may not want to see me. But I have to see her, or at least see that she is all right, and being taken care of, even if she won't talk to me. I just have to be there with her, Marcus. That's the only explanation I can give.' He finished weakly.
Marcus nodded in understanding. 'There is a military flight taking off from Andrews for Baghdad in 2 hours. There is a seat on it for you.'
'Thank you Marcus' Clay said, and left the office. Marcus was still unsure whether the news he had just shared was good or bad for Clay. He hoped it all worked out for Clay somehow.
Clayton Webb's Townhouse
Alexandria, VA
2205 local time
Clay went home, threw some things into a bag and was about to head out when he remembered something he had to do first. He picked up his phone and dialed a number. The phone rang 2, 3 times and was answered by a sleepy voice.
'Yes, Hello?'
'Sarah, its Clay.'
He realized it was getting late to be calling, and felt bad that he had woke her up, but he knew once she heard the news, she wouldn't mind the interruption.
'What is it Clay?' she asked, sounding more awake now.
'I apologize about calling at this hour, but I couldn't wait.' Clay said.
'Wait for what, what is it?' Clay could tell she was expecting news, bad news, the same way he had when Marcus stepped into his office.
'I got the news tonight. The Marines have found Amy. She is alive. She is hurt but alive. They are flying her to the Army hospital in Baghdad.
'Alive! That's wonderful.' Sarah almost shouted. 'How is she hurt? Is she all right?'
'We don't know all of her injuries. We only know she has a broken arm for sure. I will find out more when I get there. There is a military flight leaving…in fact I better get going. I just wanted you to know. Please pass the good news along to everyone. Clay asked.
'Of course. It will be a pleasure to pass this news along. Oh, I wish I was going with you to see her. Please give her my love.' Sarah requested.
'I will.' Said Clay, along with mine he thought, if she'll take it.
'Call us soon, let us know how she is doing.' Sarah asked before he had to go.
'Yes, we will.' Clay answered. 'And Sarah,…Thanks for everything.' he added.
'Take care Clay.' Sarah said, and hung up.
Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean
Military flight to Baghdad
The flight to Baghdad was long, noisy, and uncomfortable, but Clay hardly noticed. His mind and heart were focused on one thing, getting to Amy.
Marcus Stillman had voiced the one thing Clay was afraid to think about, but he had the time on the flight to think, and it wouldn't stop nagging him. What if Amy didn't want to see him? What if she refused to talk with him?
He couldn't blame her if she did refuse to talk to him. He had dragged her on this mission against her wishes, and had almost gotten her killed.
And what about her health? How badly was she hurt? Was he still in danger of losing her?
It was pointless to try and answer any of these questions now. He will find out the answers once they landed. He would just have to wait. He hoped he could at least talk to her, see that she was all right, and make sure she didn't need anything. He wouldn't pressure her to talk to him if she didn't want to. At least not until she was stronger, feeling better. He loved her. He just had to be able to tell her that and hope…he didn't want to live without her.
Baghdad, Iraq
1800 hours local time
When the plane landed, Clay was met by a young CIA agent working here in the Station office. He introduced himself as Byrnes, Will Byrnes. He had been sent to pick up Agent Webb at the airport, and take him into the city. He asked Clay if he wanted to go to his quarters first.
'Quarters?' Clay asked. He hadn't even thought about where he would stay while here.
'Yes Sir.' Byrnes answered. 'There is a hotel that most of the US officers working at the hospital are living at, and we have secured a room for you there. It's not much, more like a dorm really, but it's clean. Do you want to go there and get settled first? It is just a block or so from the hospital.'
'No. Take my bag over to the room if you would. I want to go to the hospital first.' He was going to see her very soon. He was happy and excited and worried all at the same time. He would not be able to do anything, until he saw her.
Byrnes drove him to the US Army Hospital in the city, and dropped him off at the front entrance, then drove off to bring Clay's bag to his room.
The hospital entrance was blocked by reporters, photographers, press everywhere. Some were just standing around; others were filing reports in front of cameras and lights. Clay was able to make a path, and enter the hospital without being stopped. He couldn't imagine what the press was here for, and then it dawned on him that Amy was here, and the story had broke that she had been found. It would be all over the news, how she was found, and what her injuries where, who had found her. Maybe even what her mission had been in the first place. He hoped the story would be kept quiet, but he was sure that was all ready too late. He vowed right here to do everything he could to keep them away from Amy. He would have to be careful not to let the reporters find out who he was, or his connection to Amy. The last thing he needed was to be hounded by the press as the CIA agent that had put America's new hero in danger.
Once inside the building, Clay went over to the desk marked "INFORMATION". A tall young Marine was standing behind the desk, 'Yes?' he asked eyeing Clay carefully.
'I'd like to see Major Harris, please. What room is she in' Clay asked politely.
'Who wants to know?' the Marine asked back accusingly.
Clayton was tired from the flight, and the past week he had spent. He was not happy to have to get past this "pit bull" to see Amy. But he tried to remember the Marine was only doing his job, and it was "pit bulls" like him that would help keep the media away from Amy too.
'My name is Clayton Webb.' He pulled out his CIA ID badge and showed it to the Marine.
'Another CIA agent? You come to question her more? Hasn't she had enough of that?' the Marine retorted.
'Questions? No, I'm not here to question her.' Clay answered a bit confused. 'Have other agents been here to question her?'
'Two other agents were already here earlier. Mueller and Lovack' the Marine told him, consulting the sign in sheet in front of him. 'They didn't stay long.'
'Look, I just flew in from Washington. I'm a friend of Major Harris' and I just want to see her. See if she is all right.' Clay finished. Why does he have to explain himself to this young marine?
'Well,' the marine stared, looking Clay up and down. 'You can go up, and check with the nurses up there to see if Major Harris is up to seeing anyone.' Clay felt a surge of relief at this. 'Go up the stairs to the third floor. Take a left at the top. It's the nurses' station at the end of the hall.'
'Thank you.' Clay said, and started up the stairs behind the Information desk, taking them two at a time.
He made it upstairs and walked down the hallway. 'I'm going to see her. I hope she will see me.' He kept thinking. He came to the nurses' desk and was stopped there by an African American woman standing there glaring at him, dislike and contempt written all over her face. Her ID around her neck read Dorothy M. and the picture there matched the one looking at him now. 'You Webb' she asked without preamble.
'Yes.' He answered.
'Let's see that ID, Mr. Webb.' He took it from his pocket and showed it to her. Her eyes got a little wider, and she looked back at his face. 'You're Clayton Webb?'
Clay nodded, 'People call you Clay.'
'Yes' though he did not want her calling him that. He hoped she would not notice him at all after this. He didn't understand why she was interested in his first name.
'Major Harris is not really receiving visitors right now.' Nurse Dorothy informed him.
'I've come a long way to see her. I think, I hope she will see me.' He was standing outside her room right now. He wasn't sure he could walk away after getting this close. He had to see her.
Nurse Dorothy kept looking at him, thinking it over. Finally she said 'I guess I can go ask her if she wants to see you now.'
'Thank you.' Clay answered politely. Clayton held his breath as he watched her enter the room behind the nurses' station. In a moment, Nurse Dorothy came back out with a frown on her face. Clay took that as a good sign.
'Major Harris said she will see Mr. Webb, but keep it short, she needs rest.'
The room was long and narrow, with 3 beds on both sides of the room. There was a set of windows at the end of the room, and the last light of the evening was coming through them. All the beds were empty except the last one on the right, near the window. A curtain was drawn on one side of the bed; Clay could only see some feet under bed covers to tell anyone was there; that and the soft beep of monitor equipment.
As Clay approached the bed, his heart beat faster, and his palms got sweaty. Suddenly he was afraid.
He came around the end of the bed and saw her. She was lying on her side, facing the windows, propped up on her side by several pillows. The arm that was on top, was wrapped and in a sling. The other was lying straight out in front of her. She had on an oxygen tube wrapped over her ears, and resting under her nose. She wore a hospital gown. Whatever part of her that was not covered by gown or blanket or bandage was black and blue, cut or swollen. Some of the bruises were fading to a purplish green. One eye was swollen; the other had a cut near the top that was held together by surgical tape. Both eyes were closed.
Clayton felt weak. He wanted to cry, or scream, or punch something in rage. All he managed to do was whisper her name. 'Amy. My God, Amy what have they done to you?' He crouched down so his face was level with hers. He wanted to touch her, comfort her, take her in his arms and take all the pain onto himself. But he didn't dare touch her, fearing he might hurt her. He gently took the hand that was laying in front of her in both of his, and said 'Amy. It's me, Clay. I'm here.'
'Clay?' Her eyes opened and she weakly closed her hand on his. 'Clay. What are you doing here?'
'I came to see you.' He said.
She didn't seem to hear him. 'Clay, are you all right?' She was searching his face with her eyes. 'You're not hurt?'
'Me, no. I'm fine' why was she asking these questions? Why would he be hurt? He didn't understand.
'And Sarah, Harm where are they?' she asked.
'They are in Washington. They send their love.' Then it hit him. The last time he had talked to her they were in the hills. She had been taken away and never knew if they had gotten back safely, or had been found and killed. She was concerned about him, while she lay in a hospital bed, covered with bruises.
'We are fine.' He assured her. 'We got out, got back to the Marine base just fine. You were the only one taken.'
'Clay, I was so scared. I didn't know what happened.' She began to cry. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
This was more than Clay could take. 'No, please don't cry.' He began to gently wipe the tears off her cheek with one hand, while tears filled his own eyes. 'We are all fine. And you are safe now. That is all that matters.'
Amy continued on. She was so tired, could not keep her eyes open, but she had to know. Her voice was growing weaker, but she pressed on at a whisper. 'The Marines. I was so afraid to ask anyone, but I have to know. Please tell me.'
Clay wanted to help calm her, but didn't know what she was talking about. 'What about the Marines?'
'Are they all right? Was the base attached?' she asked.
Was this what those thugs wanted to know, what they tried to get out of her? Clay thought. He was going to put an end to their hold on her right now. 'Amy, the Marine base is safe, I assure you. They moved it and it was never found. None of them were hurt. I promise.'
It was as if she had not heard him, she couldn't let go. 'I was so cold. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't remember if I said anything. Clayton, I can't remember.' And she began crying again, harder.
'Shhh, it's all right. Everyone is safe. Please believe me, and stop worrying. You didn't tell them anything.' He was sure of this. She would not have been in such bad shape if she had told them anything.
His words were starting to sink in, past the pain and fog in her mind. 'Everyone is OK?'
'Yes, I promise.' He wiped the tears from her face with the edge of the sheet and sat back to just look at her. What had she been through? It didn't bare thinking about right now.
Amy opened her eyes, and really looked at Clay. His cheeks were wet too from crying, but he smiled at her when he saw her eyes. 'Clay, what are you doing here?'
His smile got wider. 'I came to see you. I had to make sure you were all right. I've been so worried….' His eyes filled again, and he tried to blink them clear. 'I was so afraid I lost you.' He whispered.
Amy wasn't sure he should be here anymore. She wanted to be in his arms so much, to feel his love again, but if it truly wasn't there, she wasn't strong enough to face him. 'Clayton, I don't want your pity, or your guilt. Maybe you better…'
He cut her off, 'Will you take my love?' There it was, his heart laid bare. 'Amy, I've been such a damn fool. I can't stop loving you. Its not pity or guilt. I just love you, and need you. I'm lost without you.'
'Mr. Webb.' A stern voice broke in from beside the curtain. 'It's time you should be going. Major Harris needs her rest.'
Clay stood up, and faced Nurse Dorothy. 'Just a couple more minutes, please, and then I'll go.' My life is on the line here, he wanted to say. Can't I have two more minutes to see what that life will be? He couldn't say the words, but hoped his request for a few more minutes would be enough.
'All right.' Said Nurse Dorothy reluctantly. 'I'll give you two minutes, and then I'm coming in here and taking you out myself.' And she turned on her heel and stomped out.
Clay looked down at Amy. It almost looked liked she was smiling. He crouched back down beside her. 'Amy'
Her eyes opened, and she was smiling. 'Clay.' She said. 'God help me, but I never stopped loving you either. I couldn't. I tried.' She closed her eyes again.
Clay could hardly believe his ears. She still loved him. After everything he had done, all the pain he had caused her. She still loved him. His heart soared, and he felt a little light headed.
Amy was too tired to keep her eyes open any more. 'I wish you didn't have to go.'
'Me too.' He said. 'I'd sleep on the floor beside you and be happy, if they let me.'
'They won't.' came her answer. Though she was pleased he wanted to stay too.
Her voice was getting sleepy. 'I better go.' Clay said, but he hated to leave. 'I'm not far away, and I'll be back tomorrow. I promise.'
'Good' she said. Clay stood up again and just watched her for a moment. He looked through the bruises to the beautiful woman sleeping in front of him. He moved to go, but she would not let go of his hand. 'Tell me again.' She said. He smiled and poured his heart into the words. 'I love you, Amelia Harris.'
'I love you too, Spook.' And her hand relaxed. He knew she was asleep. He leaned down and kissed her ever so lightly on her forehead. When he straightened up, Dorothy was looking at him. 'Major Harris' doctor is here. He wants to talk to you.'
Perfect, thought Clay. Just the man I want to see.
The young man was looking at a file at the nurses' desk when Clay came out of Amy's room. Clay looked at him carefully. He hardly looked old enough to bandage a skinned knee, and he looked tired. Everybody looked tired in Baghdad these days, Clay thought.
The doctor finished with the file, closed it, and looked up at Clay. 'Jon Griffith, I'm Major Harris' primary physician. And you are Mr. Webb?' he said, and extended his hand. Clay shook his hand. 'Yes, nice to meet you Dr. Griffith.'
'So, you are Clayton?' the doctor asked, looking him over.
'You are the second person to say that to me since I arrived here.' Clay said, glancing at Nurse Dorothy. She met his gaze, and then looked at the paper work on her desk. Dr. Griffith glanced at her too. Picking up the folder in front of him, he took a step toward the hallway. 'My shift is almost over. Why don't you and I have a private talk, Mr. Webb?' Clay nodded and followed the young doctor down the hall.
The two men went down several flights of stairs to the basement. There was a cafeteria of sorts there. Dr. Griffith entered the line, and picked up a sandwich and carton of milk. 'When was the last time you ate anything Webb?' he asked.
'I don't even remember.' Came the truthful answer.
'Get a sandwich' the doctor suggested. 'They are not great, but they are safer than the mystery casserole.'
Clay picked up a sandwich and carton of milk too. The doctor paid for their dinners, saying 'I get a discount.' And then they went to a table, away from the other personal in the dining hall.
After sitting down, the doctor got right to the point. 'What exactly is your relationship to Major Harris?' he asked Clay.
He was taken aback by the forthrightness of the question, and was not prepared to tell this doctor everything, but Clay did understand he wanted only to protect Amy, like everyone else seemed to in the hospital, and Clay had to respect that. 'Major Harris and I are friends. She was working for me, on my mission, when she was captured.'
Dr. Griffith thought there was more to it than that, and what Dorothy had told him she had overheard between this Webb and Major Harris, confirmed his suspicions, but he would not push Webb for more. At least not right now. He had looked closely at Webb and saw a few very telling things. The doctor couldn't help himself, he started diagnosing Mr. Webb. Dark circles under his eyes, hollow cheeks, and an undercurrent of guilt, over what had happened on "his mission" and what he had seen of Major Harris upstairs. Webb had not been taking care of himself lately, that was apparent, and the thickness in his voice, the distress in his eyes, said more to Dr. Griffith than any words Clayton Webb had said so far.
'You will have to forgive my being so blunt, Mr. Webb. You saw the press outside the hospital?' he asked, and Clayton nodded as he chewed a bite of his sandwich. 'They want every detail about Major Harris they can get, and we want to be very careful what information is given out. Major Harris has not said much, at least not to me, but she made it clear she does not want the whole world to know what happened to her. She is ashamed of her injuries, embarrassed, and she doesn't need that kind of attention. No one does.' The doctor finished, and took a bite of his own sandwich.
'I assure you doctor,' Clayton said, 'I have no intention of talking to the press, or exposing Amy, Major Harris, to anything that might hurt her more.'
'I'm glad to hear it.' Jon said. 'There have been two other CIA agents already knocking on her door, wanting to question her. I didn't have the authority to keep them out completely, but I am trying. She needs rest. There will be time later, when she is stronger to debrief her, right?' he was hoping he could have an ally in Webb, to keep the other agents out for a while.
Clay was happy to help. 'Of course. There is no need to start with that right now.'
'Could you get those other agents to back off a while?' Jon asked hopefully.
'Yes' Clay said confidently. If anyone bothered Amy right now, they would have to get through him first.
'You would be my own personal hero, Mr. Webb.'
'Doctor, what are Amy,….Major Harris' injuries? How badly hurt is she?' Clay asked carefully. He was a little afraid of the answer, but had to ask.
Doctor Griffith decided to let Webb in the circle of protection around Major Harris. 'Mr. Webb. Only about 12 people know the full extend of her injuries, and we want to keep that number small. Less people who know, the less chance of details leaking out. Whoever held Major Harris captive tried very hard to beat her to death, and they nearly succeeded. She is one big bruise from the top of her head to her toes.' Dr. Griffith said sadly.
Clay had seen the evidence, but it wasn't any easier to hear the news. He stopped eating, and gave the doctor his full attention.
'The worst injury is the broken arm. That may need surgery, but will have to wait until she is strong enough to make the trip home. She has broken ribs, bruised ribs, bruised stomach, liver, kidneys, …'
As each one was listed, Clay's heart sank deeper, and his stomach turned.
Dr. Griffith went on. He didn't want to, but had to list a couple more things before he was finished. 'The first night she told us they marched all night. They took way her boots, made her march barefoot. Her feet are now cut up and bruised too. Then the last night, they took some kind of riding crop, whipped her back, 12 or 15 times. Those cuts and the cuts on her feet are infected. She will carry scars the rest of her life.' The doctor stopped here. Webb had grown a little pale, he had heard enough. Dr. Griffith looked at the folder that was sitting on the side of their table. 'It may sound a bit morbid, but we took pictures. Just incase the …they were ever captured and tried. It's all in there.' He nodded toward the file. 'I need some coffee.' He said, and left Webb to look, or not look at the pictures in private. It also gave Webb the chance to pull himself together alone. No man needed to hear this kind of news about someone he obviously cared about, with an audience. Dr. Griffith stood, and moved away from the table.
Clay was sick and numb inside. Tears gathered again in his eyes, along with rage. He slid the folder closer, forcing his hands to move, to open the folder. Some snapshots were on top. As photography went, the pictures were not very good; bad lighting, crooked angles. But the pictures told the story well enough. For modesty sake, a towel had been laid across Amy's breasts and hips, but the bruises were every where, and they did not stop at the edge of the towel. They were large, and purple, and shiny from the injury as well as the flash of the camera. Clayton looked at only a couple, before the half of the sandwich he had just eaten threatened to come back up. He hastily closed the folder again, and tried to gain control of himself, thankful he was alone. He took some deep breaths, and drank down the last of his milk, thinking it might help settle his stomach. He reminded himself again that Amy was upstairs. She was safe, and her injuries were being tended to. Everything would be all right.
After a couple of minutes, Dr. Griffith sat back down at the table and looked at Clay. 'The good news is that she is alive, and will make it. It will just take time. We can make her comfortable, cure the infections, but rest is the thing that will make her well. With that said,' he paused, and looked Clay in the eye. 'I will let you have open visiting privileges to Major Harris. You may come and go as you like while you are here. But if you abuse these privileges, Mr. Webb, I will take them away. Major Harris needs rest. Nothing will get in the way of that. I'll make sure of it.'
'I understand Doctor. Thank you. I won't get in the way.' Clay promised. 'And, I plan on staying here until Major Harris is ready to go home. I will bring her home myself.' He said.
This also told Dr. Griffith a lot, of what really was between Mr. Webb and his patient. 'Well then,' he said, 'you may as well call me Jon. Where will you be staying, Webb?'
'I guess at some former hotel nearby.' Clay said.
'Yes, I'm there, as are most of the officers here at the hospital. It's not the Hilton, but it's not too bad. Sort of like the dorm at college.'
Memories of Clay's college days streaked through his mind. Not all of them good of the dorm he had lived in on campus. 'Great.' he said.
'Why don't we go and check one more time on our mutually favorite patient, then I will walk over to the 'dorm' with you, and get you settled.' Jon offered.
'Thank you Jon. And it's Clay.' Then he paused, remembering something as the two of them stood up with their food trays. 'That reminds me. You never told me why everyone seems so interested in my name.'
Jon smiled a little, before answering. It wasn't an easy thing to describe. 'Major Harris has been here a little over 30 hours. When we weren't poking her, or taking pictures, or asking questions, she slept. But it hadn't been very restful…she has nightmares.' The doctor stopped here, watching for a reaction, he got it. Webb knew about nightmares, too. 'She cries out your name in her sleep, Clay.'
Clay had no answer to this. The sick feeling came back. Knowing her injuries, what she had been through, was too much. But knowing she had cried out for him, left a hole inside him.
The doctor left that in the air between them, and turned to go back upstairs to Amy's room. Clay followed a few steps behind.
When they arrived back at the nurses' station on the 3rd floor, Dr. Griffith stopped there and gave instructions to Nurse Dorothy. '…And, I am making a note in Major Harris' chart that Mr. Webb be given every courtesy and allowed to visit at any time.' He looked at Clay seriously, 'However, if I hear that he is here too much, and is Major Harris is not getting enough rest, I will cancel all visiting.' Clay nodded his understanding, and saw Dorothy smile a little as she answered 'Yes, Sir'. She gave Clay a look, daring him to go too far, and warning him that she would be keeping an eye on him.
Dr. Griffith sort of winked at Clay. 'Go on in and check on her, and then we will go over to the hotel.'
Clay quietly entered Amy's room and approached the bed. She lay very peacefully there, breathing deeply. He didn't wish to wake her. He gently moved some hair off her forehead, and saw a part of her that was not bruised. This he gently kissed, with all the love in his heart. 'Goodnight, beautiful.' He whispered, and then left the room.
US Army Hospital
Baghdad, Iraq
1055 local time
Over the next few days Clay was a frequent visitor to the room on the third floor. The nurses got to know him, and noticed how attentive he was to Major Harris, which made him all right in their books, even if he was CIA.
Clay also talked to Agents Mueller and Lovack, the two who had tried to question Amy as soon as she arrived at the hospital. He told them he would be taking over Amy's case, and they need not bother her anymore. They were not too pleased with this arrangement, but there wasn't much they could do about it. Amy would be debriefed, but by someone he picked in the agency.
When he wasn't with Amy at the hospital, Clay worked on Intel reports from the Baghdad station office. He analyzed information on the insurgent group that he would have seen in Washington anyway, and reports on trouble makers in the area. He also talked to Marcus Stillman, and kept Harm and Sarah updated on Amy's recovery.
Amy was able to rest more comfortably now that she knew everyone was safe. She grew stronger everyday. The bruises were fading, and her cuts were healing. She was able to sit up in a chair for short times each day also.
One day, as Clay came up to the nurses' station to visit, the nurse on duty stopped him, saying he could not go in just yet. 'Major Harris is getting cleaned up.' She said.
Clay waited, and in a few minutes a young, good looking Hispanic man came out of the room, pushing a low cart with cloths, towels, soap and things on it. 'Thanks Juan.' The nurse said. 'You're welcome.' Juan answered. 'She keeps looking better each day, don't you think Cathy?' Juan asked Nurse Cathy, referring to Amy. 'Yes she does. See you later.' And Juan walked on down the hall.
Clay watched this exchange, and had mixed feelings about it, but before he could put a name to those feelings, Nurse Cathy looked at him, and said 'You can go in now Mr. Webb.'
Clay walked into Amy's room. She was lying down with her eyes closed and a very satisfied smile on her lips. Clay did not like this at all, and said a little harshly, 'Hey Jarhead, you look like the cat that swallowed the canary.'
'Hello, Spook' answered Amy, not opening here eyes. 'I just had a bath, and I feel much more human. I have to look good you know.'
'Oh, do you?' Clay asked, playing along.
'Yes' she answered. 'My boyfriend is coming to see me.'
'Oh.' Clay said leaning over to give her a kiss. 'Lucky guy.'
US Army Hospital
Baghdad, Iraq
1105 local time
A few days later, Clay was walking to the hospital and was enjoying the warm spring day. The sun was shining, and there was hardly any breeze. It was a beautiful day, and it gave him an idea.
He looked for Dr. Griffith in the hospital and talked to him before going up to Amy's room, with a few extra supplies. She was in bed, and glad to see him. She was also surprised by what he had brought. A wheelchair, pillows and an extra blanket. 'What's all that for?' she asked him.
'It's a beautiful day outside, and I thought you would like some fresh air. There is a small courtyard in back of the hospital, I thought we could take a stroll and enjoy the morning.'
Amy smiled. 'Its sounds wonderful. Seems like I haven't been outside in ages.' She watched Clay move the wheelchair around to the side of the bed and start arranging the pillows for her to sit on. 'But….ah Clay' she said.
'Uhmmm' he answered, still arranging. 'You will have to help me into the chair.' Amy hated to have to ask him for help, she didn't want him to know how weak she still was, but she did wish to go outside with him.
'I know' he said. 'I'll just lift you up and set you down, no trouble.' Having arranged the chair the way he thought would be most comfortable for her; he came over to the bed and pushed aside the sheets and blankets so he could lift her. 'Put your good arm around my neck, and we will tuck the other one right here.' He said, moving her arm in the sling to her lap. He then put his other arm under her knees and Amy said, 'Now be careful. Don't hurt yourself.' She was nervous; the last thing she wanted was him to hurt his back lifting her.
'I'm fine. I've lifted you before, haven't I?' he said, remembering a few times he had lifted her and carried her to bed.
'Yes, but I can't help much,…' she started but he interrupted. 'I'm fine. On three.' He bent his knees and braced himself to lift her out of the bed and put her in the chair beside him. 'One, two three…' and he lifted. He was not prepared for how light she felt. He had not taken into account that she had not eaten any food as a prisoner, and wasn't even eating more that some broth and toast so far at the hospital since her stomach and other organs were healing. She had always been lean, but she hardly seemed to weigh more than a child. She must have lost 20 pounds he thought, and she could hardly spare the weight.
She moaned a little in his arms, and it brought him out of his surprised thoughts. 'Did I hurt you?' he asked anxiously.
'No. It just feels so good to be in your arms.' She said, snuggling a little closer to him, and rested her head on his shoulder.
She was right. It did feel good to be holding her in his arms. They had exchanged chaste kisses over the past days, but he had not been able to hold her, had been afraid to, thinking that touching her would cause her pain.
Amy could have stayed there in Clay's arms all day. It felt so good to be safe like this again. She had wanted this since she had seen him at her bedside. 'Can I stay right here, just for a minute?' she asked. 'Or am I getting too heavy?'
'We can stay like this all day if you want.' Clay answered, and he just stood there and enjoyed the moment with her. They were together, and nothing was going to pull them apart again.
He did finally place her gently in the chair, tucked in the blanket around her legs and lead her outside.
As they were walking around the courtyard, Amy asked him 'Clay, since you saw Juan, the clerk that had cleaned me up that one morning, I haven't seen him.'
'Really?' Clay said innocently.
'Yes. Only female clerks have been coming in to clean me up and comb my hair.' Amy said, knowing full well where she was going with this subject.
Clay made no response to this, so Amy went on. 'I asked the nurses where Juan was, because I had liked him, and they said there had been a complaint and that he had been assigned to another floor.'
'Hmmm' was the only response she received from Clay.
'Clayton Webb! You were jealous and you had Juan sent to another floor!' Amy said rather angrily.
'I do have green eyes.' he said a little too playfully.
'I'm serious.' Amy said. 'I don't want a complaint to go on his record. He was very good, and respectful, and I at least had no problem with him.' Amy answered.
'I will make sure the complaint does not go on his record.' Clay reassured her. 'But I was jealous of a young, good looking man bathing you. I should be the one doing that, and since the hospital won't let me, because I have volunteered my services with Dr. Griffith, I wasn't going to let any other man do that job either. So, I asked for female clerks to take over that duty, until you can do it yourself.' So ended that discussion.
They came to a bench in the sunshine, and Clay parked the wheelchair beside it, and he sat down, facing her. There were some things he wanted to talk to her about in private, and this was as private as they could get in the hospital.
She turned her face up to the sun and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, with a smile on her face. 'This is nice.' She sighed. Clay thought she looked so pretty. 'I could just curl up like a cat a sleep here all day.' Then she remembered the day she had followed the sun from the window in the room, how she had tried to sleep, tried to stay warm. The smile disappeared from her face, and she dropped her head, trying to get that image from her mind. Clay noticed the shadow that crossed her face.
'You all right?' he asked anxiously, wondering if she was in pain, or uncomfortable.
'I'm fine.' She looked at him and smiled again, and tried again to enjoy the sun.
'Clay, when will you have to return to Washington?' she asked, still facing the sky. She had become very spoiled having him around everyday, and knew it wouldn't last. She was preparing herself for when he would have to leave.
'I'm not leaving until you are ready to leave with me.' He stated. She brought her head down, and turned to look at him, surprised. 'No' she said. 'Yes' he said more strongly. 'No,' she continued over him. 'I won't have you waiting for me. It could be a couple of weeks, Clay. You will get bored and…'
'Bored! When I have you to myself everyday? Besides, there is work to do here in the Baghdad Station office, I won't get bored.' He said with a sly smile.
Amy became a little frightened at this. 'No Clay. I don't want you to go after these people. Please, stay away from them.' She was afraid the "work" he was talking about was tracking down the group that had held her captive, and putting him in danger. That was the last thing she wanted.
Clay noticed how anxious she had become, just at the mention of his work, and tried to reassure her. 'This trip is to be with you. Really. I'm under strict orders not to go after them, at least not right now. But I will track them down eventually, Amy. I promise you that.' This seemed to calm her a little. 'The work I am doing now is analyzing information coming directly into the station from their network here. That's all, I promise.'
Amy was relieved, but still didn't want him waiting around for her, until she was well enough to be sent home. 'But Clay, it might be weeks before I'm ready to travel.'
'I've talked with Dr. Griffith. It might be a couple of weeks, but then the best place for you will be the hospitals in the US. If you need surgery on your arm, it should be done there, where there is more staff, and the best doctors. We will take you home before you know it. I'm staying here with you, no matter what. I left without you once before, I won't do it again. Besides, I like having you to myself.' He said lightly, trying to joke with her.
They sat quietly for a moment. Then Clay asked, 'The station here has pictures of known trouble makers Amy. When you are stronger, would you be willing to look at a few? See if there is anyone you recognize?' He hated to ask, but it was a good opportunity to try and identify some of the insurgents.
'I'll look at the pictures. I will only really be able to identify the leader. His face I'll never forget.' She said dryly. 'But later, all right? I'm not ready yet.'
He understood. 'Of course.' As long as the subject had been brought up, he wanted to ask another question.
'Amy, you will have to be debriefed eventually.' Clay said, hating to bring up the obvious. 'You and I could start while you are still here. We could take it a little at a time.'
'No.' Amy stated emphatically.
'It might be easier to talk to me, tell me some of the tougher parts.' Clay tried to explain. 'I could tell how strong you were and stop when I saw that it was getting to tough for you…'
'No Clay. I won't…' Amy started.
'Amy you have to talk eventually, to me or someone else. It may be easier to talk to me.'
'Clay I will talk to whoever you want me to. I will answer the questions, make my statement. I just don't want to tell you what happened. I don't know how to explain it.' She said helplessly.
'I can help you; I can support you, Amy. It might be easier…'
'Clay.' Amy interrupted him. 'Why haven't you ever told me about what happened to you in Paraguay?'
Clay didn't understand where that question came from. And he had not really thought about it before. He knew Amy knew about some of the things that had happened in Paraguay, but they had never discussed it. She had been there to see the nightmares that still plagued him now and then, and he expected that she and Sarah may have discussed it too.
'I guess…I didn't want to tell you. I didn't feel like it was a part of us, part of what we shared. You know about the nightmares, and I thought that was more than enough.' He said in answer to her question.
'You are protecting me from what happened there.' She answered for him.
'Yes, maybe.' He said.
'Are you ashamed in any way for what happened?' she asked then thought better of it. 'On second thought you don't have to answer that.'
Amy continued. 'I am ashamed of what happened to me Clay. I feel I should have done more, tried harder. I didn't even try to escape. I was too weak, too afraid.' While she said this, she grew more agitated, but it felt good to get some of this off her chest. 'I was cold and scared, and I just let them do this to me!'
'Shh, you did nothing wrong. You kept the information to yourself; you did not give in to them. You did all you could.' He tried to assure her. 'You see, I can help you through all these things if I was there.' He saw this as proof of why he should be there to debrief her.
Amy saw it as proof he should not. 'I don't want to say these things, and have to watch you listen to them. I don't want to watch you imagine that room, and watch helplessly as I describe what went on there. Just like you, I want to protect you from what happened to me. Does that make sense?'
Clay would not want to tell her about the hut in Paraguay, the pain and fear there. And he could understand how she did not want to share that sort of pain and fear with him.
Her voice broke into his thoughts. 'I know you will read the report anyway. And you will see, and have seen my scars, Clay, so I will never be able to completely hide what happened to me there from you.' She said. 'But I don't want to watch you while you see them.'
'All right.' He said.
'All right.' She agreed. 'I will look at the pictures here; see if I recognize any of them. But not yet please. Give me a couple more days.'
'Of course.' He answered.
They sat quietly for a few more minutes, enjoying the sun. 'Amy, when we do go back home…will you marry me?' he asked. He had thought about it the past few days, spending time with her. He wanted a life where he could see her everyday, where they could share everything. He had not planned on just…coming out and saying it this way, but he couldn't stop himself.
Amy looked at him and smiled. 'I…don't know Clay. There is so much to be worked out between us. And I don't know what I will do when I get home. Will I still be able to be a Marine? Will I still be able to work? If not, what will I do?'
'Be my wife. You wouldn't have to work. Marry me, and we can have a family. You could sew all day if you wanted to. We could make a home together.' He was warming up to this idea.
'And I'll keep the home fires burning while you are out saving the world, I suppose?' she asked
'I'll leave CIA if you want me to. I can find other work in the government.' He said. He had not thought about that, but he could, if it meant he could have her as his wife.
'You would hate that, and then hate me.' Amy stated. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she looked at him again. 'Clay, can I just say we will wait and see? Let's see how things get worked out first? Let me be well, and feel like myself again before I say Yes?' she asked hopefully.
'As long as you are not saying No' he said hopefully. He knew it was too soon for her to make such a decision. They had only really been "back together" for a few days. It was unfair of him to ask her such a question yet.
'It is not No, but not Yes either.' She stated with a smile. 'Let's just enjoy now. I just want to be, Clay. I want to be strong again, and stay awake all day, and eat real food, and walk by myself.'
'You will do all those things, Amy. I'll make sure of it.' He promised, and sealed it with a kiss.
End of Chapter 6