Chapter 29 - Phoenix

Webb stood leaning against the closed bedroom door, his jaw clenched tightly. He was unhappy about the interaction between Sadik and Sarah. Specifically, he seethed with hatred because of the other man's interest towards her. "I'm sorry."

This meeting wasn't one of his wisest ideas but he was unwilling to leave Sarah alone and the home was so secure that no one could find them. It made sense to have the terrorist travel and stay at Manderley until their current business concluded. But then he'd caught the leering, the sick smile and eyes of both affection and hatred. It was disturbing and at once Webb tried to put some distance between them.

"Do you trust him?" Mac stood by the French doors staring out over the water. Her arms were wrapped around her body in a failed attempt to stop herself from shaking although she wasn't cold. At once the horrible memories flooded back: a deranged man with hatred in his eyes, the smell of his sweet breath when he plunged a knife into her pregnant belly.

"You already asked me that."

Her hands dropped to her middle, imaging a rounded stomach heavy with Harm's child. "Give me an answer that isn't a lie."

"Sarah-"

"You never saw but, he ran a knife through me, Clay! Through the pregnancy suit without care or remorse of any child I could have been carrying."

"He knew it wasn't real. Those fucking missionaries told him."

Mac whipped around to face him. "You knew the danger and you requested me to join anyway. There had to be a female officer at Langley who speaks Farsi but you chose me. You let him try to hurt me, why?"

Webb ambled to the bed and sat on the edge when his pain began to increase. His injuries had a habit of manifesting themselves when he stood for too long and as he dropped onto the mattress he let out a long breath. "There was a rumor of a female analyst at Langley that was getting close to finding out what I was doing before Paraguay. Someone on the inside said she was also military."

Kershaw swore no one knew of her work in the CIA. She had a codename that was used and Mac's given name was only used straight out of college until they realized her potential and knew her identity needed to be kept secret. "And you thought it was me."

"Yes."

"So you tried to get me killed."

"It wouldn't have gotten that far." But it would have and he knew it. Webb was willing to let Sadik's men torture the woman until she gave up the secrets he was sure she hid. Rabb had arrived, like a knight in shining armor and pulled Mac out of the torture shack before the steel wool was pressed to her skin.

No one knew that he stood outside the decrepit building, waiting for her to spill the classified information she knew. No one knew that Gunny would find him outside of his cell, huddled against an old Jeep while he feigned needing rescue.

Webb's feelings for Mac only shifted as she came to care for him in the hospital - the long visits when she was not with Rabb. After their break, she needed a friend and he needed someone to warm his bed although that part of their relationship was still on pause. He wanted her and now it appeared that she could be his for the taking. "Sarah, all of that has passed. You're here; with me. I won't let him hurt you. I'll kill him if he tries."

"You bastard! I came to you because I needed you. I came to you because of what Harm did to me and you took me against my will, you locked me up and then showed me off to Sadik like I'm a prize you won. That's not me. I'm a Marine, Clay! Not some stupid girl you can play house with!"

Clay stood quickly and in a flash he had her pressed against a wall. His body held her down heavily, a shaky hand covered her mouth when Mac tried to scream and his kind eyes turned murderous. "Lower your goddamned voice, Mac…Sadik is a means to an end. I'm using him. I've been using him since I first met him in Afghanistan. He wants revenge and I need someone to move the heroin and get me paid quickly."

"Paid? You mean Diamonds?" She asked quietly when his hand dropped from her mouth.

"Yes. They're worth more than money and easier to hide. The whole assignment to Paraguay started because of the diamonds." He backed away from her then, his mood shifting somewhat. Clay's shoulders slumped out of exhaustion or embarrassment, she wasn't sure but he kept himself close so that only she could hear his whispered words. "I've lied to you about me and my family."

"I have friends in Russia, in their political world and it started with my grandfather. They expect certain things of me. They've kept the Webb's in a lifestyle that we deserve and all they ask in turn is for some information."

"You're a mole?"

"That's a nasty word. No, I keep the balance of power equal between the KGB and the CIA."

"The KGB doesn't exist anymore."

Webb snorted, "You don't really believe that do you?"

No, she didn't given how quickly information about her and Harm moved through Moscow when they tried to find his father. "And you had the balls to call Harm a traitor?"

"He is."

"And you're not?"

"No, I'm not. I make sure our people stay alive. I don't deliberately put them in danger."

"Except me." Mac deadpanned.

Webb had no response. He had no response because Mac was right - he had put her in danger and could have ended her involvement with Harm before it started. "I love you, Sarah. You can believe whatever you want of me but I'm doing this, all of this, for you."

"I don't want it."

"You will." When he turned and left, Mac dropped onto the edge of the bed and let out a long sigh. She finally had concrete information of Webb's deception but there was no one to call, no place to run. She was trapped without knowing if anyone would find her.

Oddly enough, the door to her room was left open and Mac found herself wandering the second floor in search of another escape route. The hallway walls were lined with opulent art most of which she didn't doubt their authenticity.

There were six doors, all equally sealed except for a small closet that she stepped into quietly. With the turn of a switch, the small room was bathed in light and its objects were on display.

Cleaning supplies. She sighed. Rows of detergents, aromatizers, mops, cloths, toilet tissues, a broom and vacuum. There was nothing to be used as a makeshift weapon, nothing that she could easily hide. Damn.

Mac's shoulders slumped as she headed down the hallway and stopped as the sounds of Islamic prayer echoed from somewhere downstairs. She consulted her internal clock and realized it was nearly sunset, one of the mandatory prayer times of Sadik's religion.

With light steps she walked down the stairs, cringing when a loud creak of the wood alerted the terrorist to her presense. Sadik was on his knees using some sort of throw as a prayer mat that pointed due East. He said his prayer in a low tone making it sound like a chant as he bowed at the waist and lowered his head down to the mat. "If one does not offer the Maghrib Salah purposely, you will be punished by Allah Almighty. Do you not pray, Sarah?"

Mac watched him and was reminded of her maternal grandmother, Lina, the woman who taught her how to speak Farsi and educated her on the teachings of the Quran. "My grandmother taught me but my grandfather and my parents were Catholic. I've never really prayed to Allah."

"Catholic?" He was displeased with this information and as Sadik bent and rose again, he broke his prayer and turned to her. "An infidel's religion and not that of your true birth right."

"What do you think you know about me?"

"I learned much about you and your Muslim family, Sarah. We're the same, you and I but I fear you dishonor your dead grandmother with your actions."

"My actions? What about my actions?"

He finished his prayer and stood, rolled up the throw and then placed it gently on the sofa. "Your hair is not covered. You dress either like a whore or like a man. A good Muslim woman would take better care of physical presense."

"My grandmother never wore the headscarf a day in her life." At least not since she escaped from Iran and found herself meeting an American soldier in London. She was exotic and beautiful, Captain Anthony O'Hara was smitten at once and married her just three days later. He brought her to the States where the couple would eventually have two children - Deanne and Matthew.

Lina never gave up her faith or customs although she adopted her husband's religion. She taught a young Sarah the good points of the Quran and the language of her ancestors but her grandmother never dressed the part nor did she believe in subservient women. "She wouldn't think much about your treatment of women."

Sadik lowered himself onto an oversized chair where he sat with his legs crossed and his hands on either side of the arms. His expression was that of a king presiding over his kingdom and it did not waver when Webb entered the room with a guard in toe. "What's going on here? How are you out of the room?"

"Sarah was going to make me tea. Weren't you Sarah?"

Sadik's sick smile made her skin crawl and as she glanced between both men, Mac knew she had a role to play. They were business partners, not friends or allies which was clear on how Webb moved closer to her and tapped the 9mm in his waistband. "No. I will not."

"You will."

"No."

"Insolent woman, you will go to the kitchen and make me my tea, I demand it!" Sadik's sharp voice echoed in the home, making Mac wince. He was standing, his posture appearing in a threatening manner but when she might have given in, Webb's hand on her bicep stopped her acquiescence. "Let her go Clayton. I demand to be served by her. A good Muslim woman who wants to remain in Allah's grace wouldn't-"

"She's not going anywhere."

When Sadik sat, he was calm again, controlled. Outburst wouldn't work in this environment and so he switched tactics. "I find your American intelligence comically inept. You're protecting the Phoenix."

Mac had learned to hide the emotions but at the mention of her codename, a visible wince spoke louder than words could. She traded glances with both men but her eyes focused on Clay whose hand instinctively wrapped around the butt of the pistol.

Concerned eyes washed over with betrayal and anger. He knew. All along his gut warned him but his heart got in the way. It didn't help that the woman was so beautiful and kind and special. Sarah MacKenzie made him feel good even when his actions went against the very country he swore to protect. He actually felt bad for Rabb who was also suckered into Mac's lies and was paying his own price.

"You're something of a legend, you know? How long have you been after me?"

Mac shrugged and that terrified, weak demanor she'd been using cracked as she stood ramrod straight - a warrior preparing for battle with the enemy. "Not long, we didn't think he could be trusted."

"We?"

"Harm and me. He was tipped off by Catherine Gale and we designed a public break off as a trap for you..And it worked, you just couldn't leave me alone." She could have laughed when his face fell.

All of the nights in her apartment watching movies while they sat side by side on Mac's sofa. Similar evenings in his own place when he played the violin, had candlelit dinners and hoped that one day his Sarah would forget Rabb. There were expensive dinners, priceless jewelry and gorgeous dresses; all purchased by him in the hopes that Mac could experience what Rabb would never afford.

The reality of the last two years hit him like a stone. A kind of murderous anger swept through Clay coming in waves like a tsunami when he recalled the man still in the room taking pleasure on this embarassing turn of events. Thoughts of pulling his weapon and shooting them both passed fleetingly through his mind. Instead, he opted for a more barbaric approach.

Mac didn't have time to brace against they his body whirled towards her. The back of Clay's hand connected with her face hitting just above the orbital bone and sending both of them falling. Webb caught the corner of the sofa, his body unable to stand for a moment as he shifted onto the cushions to sit. Mac's body hit the floor hard, the wind temporarily knocked out of her while stars sparked behind closed eyes. Instinctively, she pulled herself into the fetal position, expecting another blow that didn't come.

After several long minutes it was Clay's guard that helped her stand, holding her bicep to keep the Marine from falling. A gash at the corner of her head bled badly, the vision in her left eye was hazy and her face felt like it barely survived a head-on-collision. Webb glared at her once and with an outstretched hand ordered the guard to march Sarah into the kitchen. "Make his fucking tea."

"He's coming for me, you know."

"Yeah, I know. But this time, Rabb's run out of lives."

Mac stopped walking and roughly yanked her arm out of the guard's grasp. "If he doesn't kill you first."

It was night when Harm arrived on the peninsula by boat; an inflatable RHIB with a quiet motor that he shut off the closer he got to Manderley. From the satellite images that Bud had gathered there were barely any guards. He supposed the lack of security was a measure to keep curious eyes off the residence.

Security cameras were scattered across the property and with one call to Bud who sat in a van a mile up the road with Chegwidden and Sturgis, the feed was tampered with, placed on a loop to make it seem that everything was normal.

He wore black and kept low as he crept over a wall that cut Maderley off from the nearest property. A rifle with a silencer was strapped to his back, a pistol was tucked into a holster that wrapped around his right thigh, a tactical knife was on his left along with a smaller knife tucked into his boot.

Unfortunately the ammo he carried was limited and so Harm scouted the area with binos to get eyes on the two guards that stood by a helicopter that sat in the yard. He got around them quietly and came upon the larger of the two ending one life with a swift cut of the knife.

The other guard raised his rifle to shoot but, as Harm stalked after him, the weapon jammed. "Don't kill me."

"Too late." Another slice of the knife and another man down. He had no remorse about either death and simply saw them as a wall he needed to break in order to reach Mac.

Instinct told him where to look, how to find her, where to go. Harm kept to the shadows until he reached the home and then jumped to grab the deck of the second floor balcony. He pulled his body up, got a foothold on a pillar and came over the railing, crouching as he landed.

Each door he passed was locked and nailed shut. The windows were too thick to break even with the tool he carried. An impulse to break down one of the French doors was quashed, the sound of broken wood and glass wasn't the stealthiest approach and he needed the quiet to find Mac.

Slowly he rounded one end of the wrap-around balcony, pausing as the lights from inside cast shadows on the ground ahead like a beacon. He noted the motion, the ebb and flow of light as if someone were pacing in front of a window. It was her, Harm knew, his instincts about Mac were rarely wrong and as he hurried towards the room, he kept to the shadows, flattening his body against the wall to carefully look inside.

Through gossamer curtains he caught sight of Mac. She sat at the end of the bed, her body slumped over, her face in her hands. Everything in his World shifted that very moment and the weight that he bore eazed substantially. His heart raced, his breath caught in his throat and he thanked every deity that Mac was relatively safe.

Harm's knuckles rapped on the window, an effort to get her attention that was unsuccessful due to the exceptionally thick pane. He considered calling out her name but then noticed the French door and though it was unlikely to open, Harm grasped the knob and turned it roughly. As expected, the door would not open but the jiggling sound did catch Mac's attention.

She shot off of the bed and glared through the windows at the ghost in the shadows assuming one of Webb's men out on patrol. A moment later she was filled with warmth and hope when the most dazzling blue eyes locked onto hers.

Harm's eyes were wide, his chest heaved with each heavy breath that he took. To Mac, it was like living in a dream but her dreams had never been this alive, this vivid. His breath fogged the small pane and as he tried the doorknob again,Mac saw the frustration in his expression when he realized she was locked in. "Mac?"

"I can't open it."

His head shook, it was an explination that Harm refused to admit. His hands brushed down the frame trying to find a weak spot he may be able to pry open but there were none. Instead his fingers felt the head of each nail, the cool metal pressing into his fingers.

It took a minute for him to ignore the impulsive Devil on his shoulder, the one that wanted him to break down the door so badly he could practically feel the wood splintering. But he couldn't, the noise would alert others and, so far, stealth aided his conquest.

"Mac." Harm whispered her name again. His eyes were sad and tormented but determined to set her free.

"Harm." Mac raised a hand and pressed her palm against the pane, smiling sadly when he mirrored her movement. She felt the heat through the glass, its comforting presence giving her a sense of security that had gone missing. Harm was her strength, her rock, her…everything. "I love you."

"What did he do to you?"

Of course he saw the darkening bruise across her right cheek and the black mark that almost fully went around her eye. She'd tried to bring down the swelling with ice and a hand towel that was found in the kitchen but it barely did a thing to stop the swelling. "I'm okay."

"I'm coming back for you." He promised, the mark across her face provoking the anger Harm could no longer keep in check. He closed his eyes, took a breath and then pushed himself away from the door, reluctantly hurrying down the porch until the heavy sound of footsteps made him stop.