Long, action packed, controversial, yup, this part has it all! 2 left!
PS: There's a certain "scene" that isn't as bad as it seems.
J.
PART 28 – Functio Laesa
April 15, 2010
2001 Local
Trattoria Acqua
La Jolla, California
Vic kept his hand at the small of her back as he escorted Mac into the Mediterranean inspired restaurant situated on a hill which overlooked La Jolla Cove. The Maitre 'd had weaved them through the maze of tables, finally stepping to the terrace and towards a table that was barely big enough for two. Mac bit back the urge to grab Vukovic's hand, snap it off and then use it to slap him. They had been 'dating' (An idea that made her utterly sick) for about a week and a half. Well, as much as one could date a person under your chain of command which you were trying to stay away from. Yes, it was working out quite well save for the times that he'd tried to kiss her and she had to resist beating him to a pulp.
She hadn't ever allowed anything past a kiss to her cheek and, even so, the moment she got home, Mac would slip into the shower and take a long, luxurious bath with the aid of an exfoliating loofah. The last thing she wanted was to have any scent of Vic lingering on her person. "This is lovely, thank you." She said to Vic, plastering on a fake smile. She swore, after all of this smiling, that her face would stay that way.
Glancing around, she felt a familiar ache in her chest at the familiarity of such a quaint restaurant. She and Harm had gone once on a double date with his parents which wound up being a rather pleasant experience. Back then, Frank had finagled his way into getting a table with the most breathtaking view. They'd shared a pleasant and humorous conversation and, yet again, Mac felt like she was right at home. She'd finally found the family she longed for. "Mac?"
Glancing up, she found Harm sitting across from her, that charming smile on his lips, his hand holding her own. "Hi. . .I've mis. . ." She barely had a chance to speak before the image morphed from Harm to one Lieutenant Commander Gregory Vukovic. "I've never come here before, thank you." She countered, her hand slipping slowly out of his own as she reached into her purse, taking out a small mirror which she used to check her make up.
"You look wonderful, Mac." Mac. It was always Mac. Though, on three occasions he'd tried to call her Sarah, but she'd objected, something about the name bringing back bad memories. So, playing the boy scout, he'd acquiesced and chose to concentrate on the things she would allow. Kissing wasn't one of them, but he was planning on changing that tonight. The case was only a week away now, circumstances had brought it up and if he was going to survive, he needed the prosecution on his side. "You don't have to be nervous, I doubt sincerely that anyone here knows us." He said gently, knowing full well that out of uniform, it was a little more difficult to figure out who was who. "That's a lovely dress, by the way."
Mac was wearing an old black dress which she'd worn back when she was trying to be a bit more conservative. It was beautiful, yes, but along with the shawl which was draped over her shoulders, it left nearly everything and then some up to the imagination. To his credit, Vukovic did look attractive in a gray suit and yellow shirt, sans-tie. "It's my favorite." She said with a smile, lying straight through her teeth.
"No. Her favorite is this Burgundy dress that leaves slightly less up to the imagination." Harm grinned. Bringing his hand up to his ear, he adjusted the listening device, raising the volume up just a little more. Opting for a change of scenery he'd abandoned the SUV, leaving it parked two blocks down. He was now situated behind a large potted plant overlooking the terrace below, his all black outfit helping him blend in with the shadows.
Spying on Mac and Vic had been the most difficult experience of his life. Pretend or not, it was damned difficult to have the woman you love sneaking around with another. It was even worse that he was allowing it.
Still, it had suited a purpose. Four days earlier she'd ventured into Vic's apartment and managed to hook up a device on his phones and one in the living room. Though the conversations were limited to phone sex (Which Vic seemed to have a little too much of) and the occasional ordering of take out, one or two calls had come from the Madam herself. It seemed, for all of the fake smiles and unrequited innuendos, Vic and Hewitt believed they'd finally had Mac. "Morons." He scoffed, then settled in, smells of wonderful food assaulting his senses. With a sigh he pulled out a power bar, opting for a decent meal once Mac was safe and sound in their home.
With Bobbi's help, his part of the investigation had unearthed a rather tantalizing bit of information that he wasn't quite sure what to do with. The paternity question had never been raised up until the moment Harm realized that it may have been a key reason as to why Hewitt moved through her government positions with such ease. Trying to trace back Hewitt's life, Bobbi had suggested he start with her life as a young adult. There had been many articles pertaining on one Caroline Samantha Sterling – Hewitt's maiden name. School transcripts had shown her to be an honor student and one involved in many community projects. She'd gone to college at Yale.
Yale. That's where he'd found the information which came in the form of the Class of '74 year book. He'd spotted Hewitt almost immediately, her fingers threaded through those of a handsome young man – Rich Garver.
"It can't be." He said to himself, leafing through the pages, searching through the lower and then the upper classmen, coming to a stop on the Junior class and one Richard J. Garver. Next to the picture, there was a comment, one of those typical What I Want To Be. . . Ironically, it said 'President.'
On autopilot, he reached for his cell phone, going through the applications until he found the calculator. He put in the current year, minus Vukovic's age. He already knew the answer, but double checking was always a good idea. It was still a shock to see the year show up – 1974. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but picture after picture of seeing Hewitt with Garver started to make sense. Vic was Garver's son. President Garver's son. Comparing Garver's photo along with the one on Vukovic's service record, he immediately began to see the similarities. They had the same hair color, eye color, chin. It was a miracle no one had seen it before.
Yes, it certainly made sense. Why else would someone with the lack of experience, such as Caroline Hewitt, be allowed to slip into the SECNAV's seat so neatly? Blackmail was the only real viable option. The problem was proving that Vukovic was Garver's son. DNA testing was out of the picture, so for the moment he was still treading water and hoping that Mac's snooping around would lead to something. If anything, he only hoped that her fake dates with Vukovic would bring his guard down, enabling Mac to destroy him on the stand.
Harm pinched the bridge of his nose, then brought the binoculars up to his eyes. These dates between Vic and Mac were starting to take a rather large toll. He wasn't jealous, far from it, and yet it was odd seeing her with another man. His heart just didn't approve. And for God's sake, out of all of the restaurants in town, why this one?
It would be hokey to admit it to anyone, even herself, but Mac sensed Harm's presence. Hiding or not, she knew where he was, exactly where. It was difficult not to turn and glance up towards the terrace just to try and catch a glimpse. The last thing she needed was to put him in danger again, he was already up to his eyeballs because of her. "So, you were saying?" She resumed the conversation with Vic, something about. . .about. Damn. Mac wouldn't have a clue what the younger man was on about. Frankly, she didn't care. Every time she looked across from her, the person she saw wasn't Lt. Commander Gregory Vukovic. It was Captain Harmon Rabb Junior. It would always be.
"Oh, yeah, sorry." Vic drank down his second scotch since they'd arrived, then sat back casually easing into conversation. He'd been finding that, though the walls were coming down, they were still there. Not that it mattered, he'd already resigned to the fact that Mac was going to be a hard nut to crack. He had the time as long as she put in some effort. But this 'no kissing' rule that she'd put up had to go and fast. He wasn't taking her to expensive restaurants just for the fine cuisine. No, usually when you got all dressed up and took a girl out to a meal that was sure to cost at least one hundred bucks, you expected something in return. He was attractive, could have any woman that he wanted. Yes, apparently chivalry had died on this Sailor. "So, I ended up buying the BMW. . .It fits me better and I can't help but notice how gooood you look sitting in it."
Mac restrained her eyes from rolling. The term trophy wife coming to mind. "Well, I like sitting in it."
"Thanks for letting me drive the 'Vette the other day. . .I have to say. . ." Vic trailed off and leaned in with a mischievous grin. "It turns me on to see you stepping out of it. . .It's sexy."
Sometimes, she wished that certain bodily functions could happen at will, like blushing. As it was she was trying to keep another bodily function – puking – under control. What was it that Sturgis had called him? Ah, yes, 'Vicpuke.' It fit, really. "I'd be lying if I said that the reason I bought it wasn't to attract attention from handsome men." She lied. The only reason Mac had purchased the Vette was Harm. No, it wasn't to spite him because his precious vintage had been stolen. She wasn't that petty. Was it that silly to buy something that you know someone else would love? Maybe it had been a way for her to attract him, consciously she refused to believe that. Subconsciously. . .that was a different story.
Vic's hand cupped her cheek, an action that nearly had him flat on his back had Mac reacted like she really wanted. Instead, she tried the smitten female approach and hoped that he didn't see the lie in her eyes. "How about a walk along the beach later?"
Feigning affection, Mac placed her hand over his, closing her eyes as she leaned into his touch. "Actually, I can't. . .I have a meeting in the morning and then later at night, I promised Harriet I'd take care of the kids while she and Bud went shopping." Another lie, but a good one. There was always safety in numbers and the number four – as in the Roberts' four – wasn't a numeric that Vic was fond of.
"Oh." To say that he hated the Roberts' kids was an understatement. Besides the fact that their oldest was always correcting one thing or another, the other kids were a menace. Jimmy, during a visit to the office, had run off with important documents and, as a result, got him in trouble with Mac. Not that he could say much or place the blame where it was due. The fact that they were Mac's godchildren meant that they could each get away with murder. Hell, if it were his kids, he'd have them all in boarding school. "Some other time?"
"I'd love that, yes." Thankfully, dinner had arrived shortly after and conversation had been drowned out by a violinist that was playing in the terrace. Another blessing came in the form of the music which was hardly fit for dancing. She wasn't too sure she could stand being THAT up close and personal with Vicpuke.
When the evening began to wind down, Harm chose an opportune moment to slip out of his perch and head out to his vehicle. He was still in disguise as he passed Mac who was sitting alone while Vic went to the head. Though he told himself not to look, he couldn't help it, their eyes met and a spark of recognition formulated in her eyes. Mac hadn't seen his get up and despite the brown contacts, she knew him a mile away. It was almost painful to see him casually walk on by without a word in passing. There was nothing but that look which had calmed her, somewhat. It was good to know that he was watching her six. "You alright?"
Staring up, she found Vukovic staring at her with mild trepidation. "I'm fine. . .I just haven't been feeling too good. The kids were sick and I think they gave whatever bug they had to Bud and Harriet who passed it to me."
Who undoubtedly gave it to me as well. Vic bit back a cringe. Ever since his teenage years, he'd inherited a rather odd phobia to illness. Yes, everyone hated being sick, but even the slightest cold was total torture. "Well, let's get going. . .It's getting late. . .Wouldn't want you to turn into a pumpkin on me."
Mac giggled as best she could and then, once again, struggled with relaxing once his hand pressed against the small of her back and then a little lower. Breathe, Mac. Breathe.
During the drive home, she had tried to keep Harm in the mirror but exceptional driving had him back so far she'd only caught him when he turned. Vukovic, who was badly singing along to a Lionel Richie CD he had in the car, seemed oblivious to anything but her. "Hello, is it me you're looking for."
"Always loved that song." Loved being the operative word. The moment she got home, that CD was going into the garbage.
When they arrived, she expected him to try and kiss her. He'd tried every other time, today wouldn't be different. What she hadn't expected was for Vic to virtually jump out of the car and run around to help her out. He'd never been the chivalrous when he'd deposited her back home. Tonight, there was a spring in his step and this sickening, almost perverted smile. "M'lady." He offered her the crook of his arm and escorted her up the steps, stepping closer to Mac as she fished around her purse for the keys. "I really had a nice time tonight." And again, before she had a chance to move from his grasp, Vic's hands came to either side of her face. Before she could react, she felt his lips on hers in a sloppy, wet kiss that was neither passionate nor romantic. For his part, Vic could feel a spark there, an awakening within him of what it was like to finally taste Sarah MacKenzie. When they broke apart the fire in her eyes wasn't the passion that he felt, rather the hatred that burned so fierce for him it was consuming.
Finding her voice, Mac slowly trailed her hands up his arms and then placed them right on his chest, her fingers tracing arbitrary outlines over his shirt. "I really hope you aren't doing this just for your case."
"Would it bother you if I am?"
"Immensely." She whispered, pretending to be heartbroken at the thought of him using her. "I know this is a bit forward, it's definitely not like me. . .but, would you like to go out on Saturday?"
"As a date or. . .?" They'd never gone on 'dates.' It was always specified that these were 'working dinners' in the off chance they'd get caught. Whether Vic liked it or not, at the moment he was still Navy and fraternization was an issue, though he was temporarily suspended pending the outcome of his case. He really didn't give a damn about their careers, once they married he would inherit a rather large sum of cash, enough for the two of them to live cozily for years to come.
"We can't officially call it a date if you're still under my chain of command, Vic. . .For all intents and purposes, it's still a working dinner." She winked at him.
There was an idea he'd been toying with but wasn't sure how to ask of Mac. Now, after the 'passionate' kiss they shared, he didn't find a reason not to ask. "I have an idea, just, don't say 'no' before thinking about it. . .I was thinking that on Saturday we should head up to San Luis Obispo. . .There's an excellent restaurant there and this charming hotel and. . .well, actually it's an inn. . .and"
"Vic. Don't you think that's presuming a bit too much?" Mac stated with a grin. The word 'hotel' had warning bells going off in all sorts of directions.
Alright, so he was presuming a little. But, after hearing about her exploits with Colonel Farrow, Vic felt he knew just where Mac's integrity was. Besides, didn't she and Rabb have a long standing affair in the office? Scuttlebutt said that she was even involved with an Australian sailor once. Where was the presumption? It was normal, after dating for some time, to become acquainted in a different manner. "Separate rooms." He quickly offered, saving himself the embarrassment.
Mac very much doubted that the rooms would stay separate. "Isn't Obispo a bit far?" It was, but her main reason for asking wasn't the distance, but rather the effect it would have on Harm following. Yes, she would admit it, something made her scared of Vic and his advances. Especially if she was alone.
"Well, it's far and neutral. . .It's not my place or yours, and it's far from JLSS." His grin spread wider as the implication finally set it. It wasn't just far, it was just long gone from anything that held her back. The farther he got Mac away from San Diego, the easier he could manipulate her. "C'mon, a little road trip would be fun."
Damnit, how Mac wished she hadn't thought this idea up. It had to have been the most ridiculously planned one. She could only imagine Harm yelling inside of his SUV for her not to accept. . .but. "Sure, but let's leave early in the morning, it's still quite a drive."
"It's a deal. . .I'll work something out tomorrow." He leaned in to kiss her again, this time, winding up kissing only her cheek as Mac had turned her head to counter. "Night."
"Night." She pushed the door open, hoping to horridly duck inside when his hand wrapped around her arm.
Vic glanced at her hungrily, his urge to push her straight through the door and take her against the nearest wall keeping his blood simmering. Instead, he retorted with something that he'd always wanted to tell her. "I love you."
Oh no. Mac thought, her voice catching in her throat. How many times in the past had she begged God to have Harm utter those words? And now, Vic was using them and all Mac wanted was to slap that lovesick expression off of his face. Was this the way he'd treated Mayfield or the others? How far did his love go before he snapped and just took what he wanted? Yes, she was a Marine and a strong woman, but stronger women had been succumbed. All she needed was one moment of distraction for him to. . . God, she couldn't bare the thought of what he would do to her. Of what it would do to Harm and their relationship. "Thank you." Leaning forward, she gave him a quick peck on the lips and then, literally closed the door in his face.
"Night." He said to the closed door, waiting until he heard the door lock. "Soon Vic. . .you'll have her soon."
Outside, hiding behind a bush that lined the right side out of home, Harm stood binoculars in hand, waiting for Vukovic to leave. "What the fuck is he thinking?" He said under his breath as he tried to come to terms with the sudden jealousy he was feeling. It wasn't because Vic had kissed Mac, no, for that he just wanted to pummel the man. The jealousy was for all of the years he'd spent guarding his feelings for Mac. Why was it so easy for Vic just to say those words? Meaningful or not, it hurt him. He just hoped it wasn't hurting Mac. Sighing, he glanced upwards. Everything told him that he shouldn't be there, that the last thing he needed was to get caught by the cops or anyone else. Still, he couldn't help himself. It was just too hard staying away.
Rounding the house, he went towards the back ducking alongside the raised deck and then coming to the drain pipe against the wall, just outside the window to the office. "Here goes nothing." He slipped the binoculars into a backpack, tightened it around him and set up the pipe without much thought of it breaking or its ability to hold his weight. Half way up, he was able to reach for the slanted area of the roof and pull himself over to hold the outside sill of the window. With one hand he tried to pry the window open, but it didn't budge. "Oh shit."
Inside their room, Mac stood in just a bra and panties, thoughts of burning the black dress and every other outfit in the pile coming into deep consideration. Those had been all of the clothing worn on her 'dates' with Vic. Each one of them recalled a bad memory, usually a touch that was inappropriate for someone of his rank to give someone of hers. Stepping into the bathroom, she took her robe and wrapped it tightly around her slim figure. Using a bar of facial soap, she scrubbed her face of make up and the feel of Vic's lips on hers. Warm water washed the feeling away, but the memories were still there in crystal clear color. "Oh God, what am I doing?" She gripped the edges of the basin, her knuckles whitening as her grip tightened. "Harm, I'm so sorry. . ."
"Mac?" Oh God, she was losing her mind if she was hearing him inside the house. "Mac, I need help." Okay, so maybe that sounded real, it certainly wasn't a figment of her imagination. Walking past the office, she saw him through the window, his face contorted in an odd expression. "Hey, can you help me? I'm ah. . .slipping." He'd managed to get the window open, but in the process lost a foot hold. Trying not to panic was not an option as he felt his body skid slightly.
Mac raced across the room, taking both his hands which were gripping onto the window sill "Are you crazy?" Leaning back, she used both her strength and bodyweight to drag him in. Groaning, she pulled as hard as possible, enough for Harm to push himself inside. He fell onto the floor with a thud, then glanced up to find Mac kneeling by his side. Her hand caressed his face. "Are you crazy?"
"Do I really need to answer that?" He sat up slowly with Mac's help and then wrapped his arms around her, crushing her body to his. "God, I've missed you."
"This is crazy. . .you're crazy." Despite the craziness, she was holding onto him. Harm was her anchor, always had been. Instantly the strength that had been zapped away due to Vic's courting methods came back to her.
"I know, Mac. Believe me, I know. I just can't stay away. Not with what he told you tonight." He slipped out of their embrace then placed his hands on her face, his thumbs brushing off tears that had rolled down her cheeks. "Oh, Mac. . .I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out my feelings for you. I should have told you that I loved you years ago."
"Harm, this isn't your fault. . .I could have told you and it was too late when I did."
"It didn't help that I just drove away. . .For that, I am sorry." Harm stood up and brought her with him. "I guess I'd better get going."
Mac's hands wrapped around his arms stopped him from moving. "No. . .I want you to stay."
Dear God, there wasn't anything that he wanted more. This was their home, it was where he was supposed to be and not in some hotel missing a woman that was just a few miles away. "That might not be a good idea."
"I don't care. . .I just. . .I just want to hold you and pretend that I don't have to go out with him tomorrow. I just want everything to be normal again." She tried to tug him out of the office, but his body stood still. "Harm?" She watched intently as he dug around the backpack and produced a pair of women's boots.
"I brought you something." He handed them to her upside down so that the heel faced the ceiling. "They have a tracking device in the heel. A GPS. It's a back up, just in case. . . I won't be far away Mac, but I do need to make sure Vic doesn't know we'll be tailing."
"We?"
Harm nodded. "Well, Gunny's aboard for just about anything. I'll get Sturgis on the horn, too. . .Three different cars. It'll be easier to watch you that way. . .I'm not taking any chances, Mac. Certainly not when it comes to you."
"I love you." She said simply, her arms wrapping around his body.
"I love you too, Mac."
April 17, 2010
2012 Local
Madonna Inn
San Luis Obispo, California
Though they'd arrived at the inn hours earlier, Mac still couldn't get over the odd beauty of the place. She'd heard about it, of course, it had long become a piece of touristic Americana. But the pictures and TV shows hadn't done the place an ounce of justice. Sitting inside the Gold Rush Steak House, she glanced around at the bright, reddish, pink, circular tables similar to the one she and Vic were sharing. A bottle of non-alcoholic wine sat in the middle and she was thankful that her dinner partner had a call to attend to. "Harm, if you can hear me, Vic stepped out. . .Please be careful, Flyboy."
"Thanks, Mac." He said to no one in particular. She couldn't hear him, as was her specifications when it came to the mission. The last thing she'd needed was his in adverted comments skewing with her thoughts. "Alright guys, let's just stay in one car for now. . .I don't think they're going anywhere tonight." He'd been with her for the whole ride, heard the whole conversation as Vic had tried to weasel his way into her bedroom. His Marine had put her foot down in a charming matter, stating that she would give him what he wants when she was ready. That she was still healing over 'losing Harm.'
The tracking device Harm had implanted inside the heel of her boot was working like a charm. Mike Benson's nephew, a technological wiz kid, had done an excellent job in creating a device small enough to be concealed. The system sent all of the monitoring information to a special program on his lap top. With the use of an air card, he was online and mobile. The bonus was the safety of the device and its inability to be discovered without the use of a metal detector.
He unlocked the SUV doors for Gunny and Sturgis to get in and then settled back. "Mike called me. I am sure it won't be able to be used, but he found a 'to do' list of sorts."
"Is 'Kill Harm' at the top?" He joked, only to be given a serious look from Gunny. "You're kidding me?"
Gunny shook his head. "It's not quite 'Kill Harm' but the implication is there. He calls you 'The Captain.' And mentions the F-14."
Inside, Mac smiled up at her dinner companion and slipped a hand into his. Too bad she couldn't burn her hand off. "Took a while."
Vic shrugged. "I might not be in the Navy anymore after the case, Mac. .. need to find another way to build my nest egg." He stated cryptically, then raised her hand up and kissed the back of it. "How about we head out of here for a while? I hear the town is beautiful at night."
"Sure thing." Minutes later, they slipped into Vic's BMW and headed out towards the town. The city was very charming, so different from the hustle of LA and San Diego. Once again, Mac couldn't help but think about Harm and how much she'd love to share this with him. Passing Old Mission Plaza, she could see the remnants of the pavement squares which were painted by local artists in support of businesses and organizations. On the way towards City Hall, a beautiful lighted obelisk caught her eye. "Wow, incredible."
"Nice here, isn't it?" Almost immediately, the magic the city was having on Mac disappeared. His voice was like a jackhammer, destroying anything of interest.
Eight blocks back, Harm was stopped at a traffic light, his breathing becoming erratic the moment Vic turned right and disappeared. "Damnit, we should have brought the other cars!" He yelled his frustrations, slamming his fist into the steering wheel.
"Buddy, calm down, the GPS is working like a charm." Sturgis pointed at the computer screen and the detailed descriptions of the streets along with a moving green dot that signified where Mac was located. "They aren't that far away."
Sighing deeply, Harm shook his head. "I can't lose her Sturgis."
"You keep saying that." Gunny pointed out. "You aren't going to lose her. . .Light's green." He nudged Harm slightly, hoping to get him moving again.
"Look, I can't help but feel apprehensive. . .I have this gut feeling that something is going to. . ." The second he pressed on the accelerator he heard a loud, screeching sound towards his left. An impact was the last thing any of them expected, but it did come when a moving van slammed into the left side of the SUV. The force was enough to crush the front of the vehicle, killing the engine instantaneously.
Harm's head had shattered the side window, knocking him out momentarily. When he came to, he felt a hand wrapped around his shoulder, shaking him awake. "Oh, damnit." The cut on the side of his head, just above his left eyebrow, hurt like hell. "You two alright?" Propping one eye open he found Sturgis rubbing circles on his temples. Gunny was already out of the vehicle. "Guess that's a 'yes.'"
A mile and a half away, Mac took a proffered rose which Vic had purchased off of a street vendor. "A rose for a rose."
"Thank you." She took the flower, reminding herself to toss it out once they arrived back at the Inn. Which reminded her, "Vic, can we go back. I'm tired and I don't think that Sirloin agreed with me. . .I'm not feeling too hot."
Turning to glance out of his window, Vic was able to conceal the malicious smirk. "Not a problem." He gave in, knowing full well that the cause of her ill feelings wasn't the Sirloin, but the little pill which he'd paid the waiter to slip into her glass of non alcoholic wine. "I'm getting sleepy myself." But it was now, only ten in the evening and after driving hundred of miles, she was going to put out, one way or another. At this point, he didn't even care if she was conscious or not.
The ambulance had arrived relatively quickly and Harm sat in the back of it, getting his cut tended to. "Alright, Mr. Rabb, I want you to look into the light." The paramedic had him follow the light in all varying ways, his head spinning slightly which its brightness shone into his blue orbs. "You don't seem to have a concussion."
Harm snorted. "That's a first. . .I've had a few."
"Then it would be a good idea to get you to the hospital on the double." The second paramedic, a female trainee who paled at the sight of blood, suggested.
"No can do, but thanks." He jumped off of the back bumper and walked towards Gunny who had been trying to get the laptop working. "Anything?"
Gunny shook his head. "The GPS died with the crash." He motioned towards the piece in Harm's ear. "Anything?"
"No. Nothing." In the pit of his stomach he felt something was wrong, but they'd all insisted that he get medical help. It was rational, of course, and he was grateful that his friends were there, but now, more than ever, he needed to get to Mac. "We have to go. NOW. . .I can't explain it, but we just do."
Sturgis frowned. If anything, he knew of Harm and Mac's 'connection' better than most. He'd seen Mac at work and Harm's own belief that she'd saved him was enough to make him believe in 'hokum.' "I hear you, buddy, but the SUV's dead."
Walking to the SUV he slipped inside, took out a briefcase and opened it. Inside the molded foam held in place three additional ear pieces like the ones he was wearing. "Mac's on channel three. . .Try to get this shit working. . .I'm going after her." Running across the street, he stepped onto a parking lot and slid into the front seat of a taxi cab. "Madonna's Inn and there's an extra two hundred in there for you if you can get us there quickly."
Mac's head was spinning. For that matter, so was the Madonna Inn. Her arm was draped over Vic's neck as her body leaned heavily against him and the door frame to his room. To his credit, she had remembered him getting two rooms, though she'd fought Vic when he'd tried to slip into her room earlier. While she hadn't seen the inside of his room, this themed hotel definitely signified that his was as exaggeratedly decorated as her own. "Almost done. . .there!" Vic said triumphantly when the door swung open.
Misty Rock, room number 191, was a contrast between a country cabin and a night inside a cave. Rocks decorated the walls along with rustic furniture offset by a white, floral comforter over the bed. "Vic, thanks. . .But, I'll be fine." She was going to be fine, come hell or high water. This was probably just indigestion. She would throw up, get rid of this icky feeling and then crash into bed after taking some Alka-Seltzer which she always carried in her overnight bag. "Just get me to my room."
"I'm sorry, but I can't do that."
Frustrated, Harm drummed his fingers on the dash board of the cab. Somehow they'd managed to get every single red light in San Luis Obispo as well as every single idiot driver from hell. "Damnit." Pulling out the listening device he shook it, then banged his palm against the back. Magically, it came to life. "Yes!" He could barely make out Vic's voice, but he heard Mac's clearly."Vukovic. . .No!"
His breath caught in his throat momentarily. Why had she said that? What had happened? "It's alright, Sarah. . .Just hold still while I get this off of you." Bile rose up in his throat as he heard Mac protest again and again. "Oh no. . .Oh God, no." Slamming his fist into the dash he turned to the driver. "Get this moving. . .Now! Do whatever the hell you have to do but get us there! It's an emergency!" He closed his eyes tightly and unwelcome images played like a feature film behind his closed lids. 'Mac, please do that Marine thing you do. Please, hold on.'
"It's alright Sarah. . .Just hold still while I get this off of you." Mac was seated at the edge of the bed while Vukovic stood in front of her, trying to remove the blouse she'd been wearing.
Through Mac's hazed and heavy head, thoughts were trying to formulate without much result. She tried to recall Marine techniques of self defense, but her body was too heavy to move. "Vic. . .Just. . .go." She slurred. Her breathing increased as she fought whatever was happening inside of her body and in a slight moment, when she felt his hand brush her left breast, Mac summoned an inner strength. Winding up sloppily, she lunged forward, her right fist connecting with the left side of his head. It wasn't enough though and quickly she learned that all it did was enrage Vukovic.
"You fucking bitch." The back of his hand struck her cheek so hard, Mac could have sworn she'd seen stars. "I've tried to wait patiently, but it's not my virtue. . .Did you enjoy your drink, huh, Sarah?"
"You. . .you put something in it?"
Vic chuckled malevolently. "Yeah, guess you can say that. . .Conscious or not, you are going to let me fuck you. . .Now, you either stop resisting or I'll just take it by force."
Anger boiled through her veins at an alarming pace and in another moment of slight clarity, Mac was able to throw herself at him, knocking Vic into the rock wall. "Ooof." She grunted as her body fell to the floor. Struggling on all fours, she tried crawling to the door, but a hand on her ankle stopped any forward progression. Her hair was pulled back hard, bending her head in an angle that hurt her neck. Vic's head came down upon hers, giving her a bruising kiss that she tried to avoid.
"Night, night." Her final attempt to resist him was the final blow. Taking a vase off of a night stand, he slammed it to the back of Mac's head, sending her into oblivion.
Roughly, he grabbed Mac's limp body and unceremoniously dropped her into the center of the bed. He stripped down to nothing, then joined her on the bed, straddling her waist. Uneasy fingers slipped off the blouse she was wearing. Reaching the night table, he pulled out a Navy Seal style knife that he'd carried around for situations just as these. He trailed the knife down her throat and passed the valley of her breasts leaving a thin pink trail down her skin. Moving lower, he used the knife to slice the hem of her skirt. "Mmmm, so beautiful."
Nudging her thighs apart, he slipped in-between. With one hand he removed her skirt leaving her in just underwear. "This has definitely got to go." He said, taking the knife and running it around her bikini area, under Mac's panties. With three slices of the knife, he managed to remove the fabric.
Frantically, Harm raced down the corridors of the hotel, his heart hammering hard inside his chest. When they'd arrived outside of the Inn, he'd tossed a wad of bills at the Cabbie and quickly set off running like a madman in the night. The staff, he knew, would be forced to call the police. His instincts took him straight to the door which he crashed through.
In the thrill of the moment, Vic didn't even register the door breaking open, nor the six foot four inch warrior on the other side.
In a second, Harm digested everything that he was seeing with such gritty detail that it would likely haunt him for months to come. Mac's head was limply hanging to one side. He could clearly see the blood on the corner of her mouth as well as the growing red stain that he assumed was coming from the base of her skull. Her clothes were on the floor along with Vukovic's and though her breasts were not fully exposed, he could see the distinctive form of a Marine issued bra and an angry red mark that ran down her chest. Her attacker was seated, naked, between her parted thighs. That was all he was allowed to see, as a second later, blinding rage had him jumping on that bed like a jungle cat.
"You son of a bitch!" Harm growled, grabbing Vic's shoulder and pulling so hard, the other man nearly flew across the room and into a leather sofa. Pure hatred and anger pumped through Harm's blood as he dove on top of Vukovic and let his fists fly.
His first punch landed squarely at his nose, shattering the cartilage. "That is for Mac." He said, then wound up for another, which landed on his cheek. "That is for me." The force of the blow sent Vic to the ground with Harm following. "You son of a bitch." Unable to control the rage, he grabbed Vic's hair tightly, holding his head still as he began to punch the younger man with a blind fury that he'd never felt before. One punch. Two punches. At three, he felt his knuckles aching, bruising. By four they were completely covered in Vic's blood. Five, six and seven before his eyes landed on a telephone that was resting on a small table in front of him. He reached for it, his hand gripping tightly as his arm raised it over Vic's head. The seconds which went by felt like minutes, like an eternity. He took one glance at Mac's still form and then shifted his gaze to Vic who lay under him, unconscious and bleeding badly.
This final blow would be it, the one that would kill their tormenter. The one that would obliterate the man who'd threaten to take everything away and nearly did. Harm's hand shook violently as a decision weighed deep within him.
And then, the answer came in the form of his conscience.
Whatever he was, Harm was sure there was one thing that he wasn't. "I'm not a murderer." He stated with confidence, letting the phone slide from his fingers and hit the floor with a loud clang. "I'm not like you. . .I'm not a murderer." He got off of Vic, stumbling backwards until his legs hit the edge of the bed.
Turning, he saw Mac and couldn't help the involuntary gasp at seeing her in such a precarious position. She was bloody in places he was sure he didn't want to check, and that wound to her head had stained nearly the whole pillow red. To protect her modesty, he took the sheets and covered her body, then sank down next to her, cradling Mac as best he could. Two seconds later, Gunny, Sturgis and two uniformed police officers ran through the door. The officers immediately trained their guns on him, but Sturgis called them off. "Arrest him." Harm said, pointing at Vic who lay unconscious and half naked on the floor. "Call 911, she needs to go to the hospital, fast!"
Gunny's face fell completely. He'd never seen Mac like this, so helpless and frail. "Already did, they'll be here soon." Both he and Sturgis had heard Mac's struggle.
With an unconscious Vukovic in custody, one of the officers turned to Harm. "Sir, can you tell me what happened?"
Harm nodded. "He. . .he tried to. . .to ra. . rape my wife." He kept Mac cradled close to him, blankets wrapped tightly. The ambulance took them both away minutes later.
April 17, 2010
1345 Local
County Hospital
San Luis Obispo, California
Harm sat in the waiting room his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee which tasted more like battery acid than Tiner's ever did. A few hours ago, he'd sent his friends home knowing that Turner had work the next morning and Gunny had a girlfriend who was worried sick about him. They'd left in one vehicle, leaving the remaining one, also an SUV from their office, to Harm's care. Thankfully, some of the dust was starting to settle, but the one key ingredient was missing – Mac still hadn't woken up.
It was close to eleven in the evening, when they'd arrived at County Hospital. Mac had been rushed through the ER and Harm had been ordered to seek medical assistance for his own injuries. The gash over his eyebrow had been sewn and his fists, which were not broken, but badly bruised and cut, had been treated with ointment and wrapped. Then, he sat in the waiting room, answering question after question to the police officers who'd come looking for him. "Look, I don't give a rats ass what Vukovic says happened, alright! He tried to rape my girlfriend!" He'd yelled at the cops, the same two that had taken Vic into custody hours earlier.
"Girlfriend?" One of the officers said with a raised brow. "Is she your wife or is she your girlfriend? Because, back at Madonna's you called her your wife."
Any residual anger had rushed out of him, almost as if someone had deflated a balloon. Had he actually called her his wife? "Did I really say that?" He sunk into one of the chairs and glanced towards his friends who shared a knowing look. "Did I really?"
Sturgis nodded, smiling slightly. "Yeah. . .I ah, didn't have the heart to correct you on that."
Calmer now, he glanced up at the officer, "She's my girlfriend. . .we live together. . .This, all of this was part of an investigation." Reaching into his back pocket, he produced his wallet and pulled out his military ID and a business card. "My partner here, and I are the owners of this Private Investigation company. . ." The rest of the story was said with as much care as possible. He didn't reveal what he knew about Vic's investigation, but what he had said was enough to let him off with just a slap on the wrist.
The two officers had looked at each other, sharing a similar expression. "I don't see an assault charge, Buck. All I see is a guy looking out for his girl. . .As far as I'm concerned, that Vukovic character fell down a flight of stairs." With a wink, he extended his hand to Harm and they shook on it. Thankfully something went right.
Standing, he stretched out the kinks in his body and shuffled his way towards Mac's room to find her eyes open and glancing around the hospital room with a look of mixed confusion and perplexing fear. "Mac?" Harm dumped the rest of the coffee in a small bin next to the bathroom and then hurried across the room to her. "Mac?" Her right cheek was bruised, lower lip cut slightly. Her head was bandaged, protecting the stitches she'd received as a result to the porcelain cutting a gash at the base of her skull.
Never had she been so happy to see him and boy had their been times. This time, when she felt his arms wrap around her body, Mac felt good again, whole again. "What happened?" She asked quietly, her voice just a whisper.
"What do you remember?"
"Well." Closing her eyes, she was transported back in time and into the Madonna Inn. She was in Vic's room, her head spinning, body unresponsive to her commands. And then, they were fighting. She'd struck Vic once and lunged at him on her second attack. Then she felt his hand roughly pulling her hair and the blow to the head which had knocked her out. "He drugged me. I think. . .at least, that's the only part that really makes sense to me. . .I was so. . . I couldn't control my body. . .and he was trying to. . ." Shifting slightly, Mac became aware of a pain on her inner thighs and the slight sting which ran across her chest. Brown eyes filled with tears at the thought of what happened. "Oh God." She lowered her face into her hands. "Oh God."
"Mac, no." His hands touched her own, lowering them so the could look her directly in the eye. "Vukovic didn't. . .I mean. . .He didn't. . .didn't. . .Damnit! I can't even say it!" He said angrily, turning away at the revolting thoughts of Vukovic attacking her to savagely. "He didn't . . .rape you." There, he'd said it, gotten it out in the open. They'd worked countless rape cases, but this one, though the act had not been committed, it was tearing him up inside. If he'd arrived a minute later. . . "There are some stitches on your inner thigh. . .Look, we'll talk about this when. . ."
"No, Harm. . .I need to know now. . .I need to get it out of the way now." She said with conviction and then reached a hand over to grab his own. "Please."
Sighing, he relented, squeezing her hand tightly. "Vukovic had a knife with him. . .the types used by Navy Seals. . .Apparently he used them to remove some of your clothing. . .and when he removed your. . .your underwear, he cut your skin. . . you're inner thigh." Moving upwards, he pulled open her gown slightly, allowing Mac to see the thin, pink line going down her chest. "He did that too. . .That'll heal though. . .they all will heal. . .you won't have permanent marks like I do."
Christ, the one thing he'd prayed was for Mac not to be disfigured in any way. His own disfigurement, the marks on his back done by a jealous lover, had cost him greatly. It made him feel like less of a man, something that had taken sometime to get over. And yet, when his fingers would brush the raised marks, the nightmare would be revisited. He didn't want that for Mac. Not now, not ever. "What happened?"
She pointed at his other hand which was wrapped. "What did you do?"
"I beat the shit out of him. . .The cops told me he doesn't look too hot." He couldn't keep the anger out of his voice. "I wanted to kill him, Mac. . .I had a phone raised over my head and was ready to beat his skull in. . .But, I couldn't. . .I'm not a murderer. I'm not like him."
"No, you're not." Mac's hand came up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing against his unshaven face. "You protected me, like you said you would. . .Thank you."
He pressed his hand to her own. "You don't have to thank me, Mac. . .You'd have done the same for me. . . .The cops are coming by later for a statement."
"Statement?" God, she hadn't even thought about that. Though, there was one problem with having Vukovic arrested. "I'm not pressing charges."
"Are you nuts?" For a moment, he believed that their dates had affected Mac. That somehow she'd become desensitized to Vic. "Maaaac."
No, she had another idea, a thought that went beyond what Vic had done to her. "Harm, if I press charges now, no judge will let me prosecute against him. . .This can be twisted around to make it seem like love triangle involving the three of us." The idea made her sick. Whatever triangle she, Harm and Vic were caught in, love wasn't involved. At least, not where Vic was concerned. "That other case, we have information."
"The Defense will try reasonable doubt."
"And lose. . .We have the letters to Arjan's girlfriend, the dozens of personnel that saw them fight. . I can win this. . .And the charge won't be just assault . .It would be on various things – Destruction of military property, Extortion, Involuntary Manslaughter. . . Espionage, Treason. . .If we don't get him on everything, we'll get him on one."
Harm only hoped that in the process of knocking Vukovic down, she didn't take a hit. "I trust your lawyering skills, Mac. Always have, but this isn't just a regular case anymore. . ."
"Hewitt can only bend the laws so far before they snap. . .It's a miracle she was able to bend them this far to begin with."
Ah, but he had an answer for that. Or, at least, he had an idea that was just too realistic to pass up. "What if I said I'd discovered who Vic's father was?"
"Satan?" Mac said with a snort. Sobering slightly, she rose a brow in question. "Wait, who is he?"
"Okay. . .I don't have indisputable proof. . .But, I worked some numbers, saw some pictures. . .And, with all of the dirty politics that Hewitt had her fingers in. . . .I think that it's possible that. . .well."
"Harm! Spill it!"
"Garver. . .I think his father is President Garver." He reached for his wallet and from the section where the money was stored, he pulled out a folded photograph. "They went to the same College. He was two years older. Now do the math. That was in 1974."
There wasn't much math to do, she'd study Vic's stats ad nausea. "They look similar." She pointed out, taking a crumpled sheet that Harm held out to her. A picture of Garver was on the right and one of Vic was to the left. "We won't be able to use any of this, will we?"
"Probably not. . .But, it gives us an angle should Hewitt try to mess with the proceedings. . .Mac, you need to be careful."
"I will."
For his part, he already contacted the police to keep an officer watching Mac while they were still in San Luis Obispo, once they got back to San Diego, however, he would see to getting the base CO to detailing a handful of Marines in on what he was going to call "Mac Watch."
