Chapter 6 - Marriages
October 10th, 2006
Harm and Mac's Apartment
Georgetown
Harm stepped into her apartment utterly exhausted although not from work. The conversation with Chegwidden had drained him so much so that all he wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for a few days. It was infuriating to have someone he respected so much downplay his involvement with Mac. But, the more they spoke, the more Chegwidden seemed to understand or maybe he was just pretending?
"Witnesses?"
"My oldest friend Jack Keeter and his wife Elizabeth. We were married on New Years Day at a tiny church in Maine."
"Why Maine?"
"Keeter's wife is from there...Had a cabin on the lake we spent our wedding night in."
"You were both out for several days that January." For some reason, that was the part that had his commanding officer sobering. The look of concern changed to one of sympathy. "You aren't lying…"
"No. Mac and me, we're married. I asked her in this moment of...I don't know, euphoria?...I never felt that happy before and knew it was her. I asked...she said yes."
"Did she hesitate?"
He laughed because the headstrong Marine had thought it insane. "She's a Marine, she thought I lost my mind...Maybe I did?" But he knew he had to make things permanent and soon. Maybe it was a premonition? "I have to find her...Save her."
"Webb headed to Langley to see what he can dig up...go home, get some rest. If I hear something I'll call." Chegwidden seemed to believe him now albeit reluctantly. Surely that would change if and when more information showed up. "Harm. I'm sorry. I know that doesn't even begin to cover things but, I am."
It would be impossible to fully forgive the Admiral but that morning some strides were made.
Harm grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge drinking most of it down. He glared at the bottle of bourbon on the cabinet and grabbed it too, feeling the comforting weight in his hand like that of an old friend. He unscrewed the top, took a long whiff and then proceeded to dump the contents down the drain and toss the bottle into the trash. She wouldn't have been happy with his drinking and it was doing nothing for his state of mind. Instead he walked to the living room with another bottle of water and settled into the comfy cushions of Mac's couch.
It took some finagling to procure her apartment but he moved in two years prior bringing much of his things with him and rented out the loft to Coates. His beloved loft was sorely missed, he hadn't even thought much about that place or the work it took to make it liveable. Instead his mind searched out each memory he could think of about this apartment, her space where they shared both good and bad times.
On the mantle sat several pictures but only one in particular that had the source of both his merriment and pain. He stood and grabbed it, fingers brushing over the images of him and her.
Mac wore a simple, long white dress with a swoop neck and he a grey suit. She was in his arms both of them with such an expression of love and happiness as they stood in front of the altar of the quaint church. They were newlyweds.
It had been cold that morning, January 1st, 2003 but the church was warm and Mac… he still wasn't sure how she agreed to his crazy scheme.
December 24, 2002
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown
They'd made love twice and not long before midnight, Mac had slipped out of his arms, showered and was on her way to make hot cocoa - a Christmas tradition, she claimed to have adopted although he never asked from whom.
Harm quietly padded into her kitchen and leaned against the counter. His eyes scanned her body, a gentle smile spreading at her outfit - baby blue flannel pajamas with candy canes all over. It suited her, he thought marveling at how she could manage to make the most unsexiest bedtime attire look so flattering. "Go Navy! Huh?"
He was referring to the sweat pants and T-shirt he wore, an outfit she absconded from him years ago and never quite made it back to his loft. "They're comfy, can you blame me?" Mac shrugged and put the finishing touches on their mugs of cocoa - nutmeg, just a sprinkle stirred in before she tossed in a handful of mini marshmallows. She sighed when he stepped up behind her, lips finding a spot just behind her ear that he'd discovered just an hour earlier.
"Smells amazing...So, no awkward morning after?"
"It's not morning." She pointed out, giggling as he squeezed her tight. "We're best friends, we know each other too well for that." Mac turned in his arms and came up to her toes, pressing a kiss on his lips. She tasted chocolate and cinnamon and Harm wanted so much to take her back to bed and discover more of her secrets.
Instead he followed to the living room settling on the sofa with Mac curled up against him watching the crackling fire and the tree lights that bathed her living room in a soft glow. It amazed him how simple everything suddenly felt, as if they'd been sharing this part of their lives forever. At that moment he realized why he'd never been able to let go with her before - after tonight, there was no going back. He was hers for all time, a thought that was equally thrilling and frightening.
"Merry Christmas." Mac said suddenly and he realized it was now after midnight. She slipped out of his embrace, placed his half empty mug on the coffee table next to hers and stood offering him her hand. "Take me to bed."
"Yes." Making love to her was unlike anything he ever felt before. She moved with him, their union proving to be much more profound and so intense. He always knew they'd be good together but never realized that Mac would feel like home. She was still in his arms afterwards, her sweet lips peppering kisses on his lips, cheeks, nose. Mac was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted and then, she confessed her deepest secret, "I love you….I love you so so much."
She didn't hide her feelings this time, she couldn't although the fear of him running away was real when he hesitated in returning the sentiment. He would in due time and she wouldn't rush him. "You don't have to say the words, Harm. I don't expect you to…"
"Marry me."
Instead, he floored her, Mac's eyes widening because the words came off his lips so simply like they were the most normal thing to say. He might have laughed at Mac's expression or the way he'd rendered her speechless for once but he was sincere. For the first time in his life Harm knew what he wanted and he wouldn't let it get away.
"What?"
"Marry me, Sarah."
"You're funny."
"I'm serious."
He began to panic when she shifted out of his arms and came to sit up, back resting against pillows and a bedsheet clutched to her chest to cover her nakedness. She felt exposed suddenly although he'd seen every inch of her in the last few hours. "No. You're...you're crazy."
"Yeah I am. I'm crazy about you."
"We can't." It was a dumb answer, Mac knew. A knee jerk reaction to his sudden whim when having his ring on her finger was all she'd ever wanted. There was a cause for her concern as in the years she'd known him Mac had been privy to some of his manic, emotional endeavours - this time it felt real. The way he looked at her, as if she were the only woman on Earth, the way he touched her, kissed her, physically loved her - she felt at home with him. This felt right. "We can't."
"Why can't we?... I'm in love with you, Mac. Marry me, it doesn't have to be more complicated than that."
She could only continue to stare, mouth agape that the confession she'd sell her soul to hear from on his lips. He loved her? No...He was in love with her and for some reason that affirmation made the missing pieces of her life fill that void Mac lived with. "Jesus, Harm when you let go…"
Every fiber of her being wanted him except for her analytical mind who was bringing up each single law in the UCMJ they would be violating. And then the other things; living arrangements, billets that would likely change, the fact that they could be shipped far away from each other for a time. She didn't want that time apart, it terrified Mac to think about walking into HQ and finding a replacement in his office. "We haven't even dated."
"We've known each other for eight years. You know almost everything about me, things other women never would. And I know you...I'm not losing my mind if that's what you think. if anything, it's clearer than it's ever been."
"What about our commissions? Work? The great, big elephant in the room?"
"Do they have to know? It can be our secret. Our life without anyone in the way." Christ, the more he spoke the more those walls of his kept crumbling down. Each brick he'd erected in part because of Mac were now scattered, he was wide open to her.
Somehow Mac found herself in his arms again, her body pressed against him, her lips moving against his own. It was dizzying, this spell he'd woven over her especially when his fingers trace a long line from her sternum down to just below her belly button. "I love you...I want to be with you forever."
"Yes." And then she finally gave in. "Yes." Her hand took his lowering it even furthur, showing him that intimate touch she wanted from him. "I'll marry you."
For days they simply loved each other, long nights of making love followed by mornings of small conversation and confessions. Mac told him she'd fallen for him from the start and he shyly admitted he wasn't sure when the feelings began but that they only grew the closer she got to marrying Mic.
One day between Christmas and the New Year he'd shown up with a single princess cut engagement ring - simple because he never really noticed Mac wore much jewelry. Where it caught his eye immediately seeing it at a small jewelry store in Georgetown, now he felt she deserved something more. Seeing it on her finger, he felt it was too small, too little a representation for the love he felt for her. But, Mac had adored it and was even glowing as they sat in her living room cuddled together. "How about New Years Day?"
"For what?"
She laughed at him then because he'd been too preoccupied in worrying about the ring but the woman had her mind on something else. Mac kissed his cheek, his nose and a quick peck to the lips as her hands snaked up to frame his face. "The wedding?"
Harm must have had that Rabb-in-the-headlights look because Mac's eyebrow hit her hairline, the way it did when she was scolding him. "I ah...Well."
"Mmm, getting cold feet, Commander?"
She was teasing him, of course. Messing with him in order to get a reaction but, Mac could never believe that after a few minutes of contemplation, he agreed. "We both have time on the books, right?"
"I was kidding, it doesn't have to move so fast."
But he wanted it that way, for it to be fast and almost spontaneous because that was how he lived most of his life - feeling like he was constantly being shot out of a rocket. That's why Harm adored flying off a carrier or working a hard case in court: the unpredictability, the adrenaline rush. "We can do this."
"Harm. Dating is one thing. Engaged we can get away with but, marriage? There are a lot of things to consider."
"There are." Harm agreed. "But we can figure all of that out along the way. I meant what I said on Christmas: our life, our secret."
October 21st, 2006
CIA Headquarters
Langley, VA
The tall Naval Commander stood in the lobby staring up at the marble wall adorned with stars. There had been many more added since his last visit to Langley and Harm felt a pang of remorse at the men and women who paid the ultimate sacrifice for their country. Impatiently, he paced, letting out a sigh of relief when Chegwidden appeared at the door. "Don't ask me questions, Commander. I won't have answers. Webb said to get down here as soon as possible."
Riding quietly on the elevator Harm's body felt like it had been coursing with electric energy. He received the call in the middle of the night and immediately thanked God he hadn't dropped into an alcohol laden slumber. His mind kept running crazy stories and scenarios finally coming to the most practical conclusion. "What if he knew? What if the last three years have been nothing but bullshit and she is on a CIA sanctioned mission? They won't get her out."
Chegwidden's jaw set, his eyes squaring as he regarded his subordinate with a look that could kill. "Then I'll just have to break his nose again, won't I? His nose, legs…"
Both men appeared before Clayton Webb's secretary, a young blonde woman who seemed far too bubbly to be employed by the agency. She waved them in and Harm was surprised at the new office the injured spook had been given. It was far bigger, something that looked more like it belonged to an executive than before. He was standing, using his cane for support. "Mary Jean, some coffee, please."
The premise seemed oddly calm given the circumstances that brought Harm to Langley, he stared at Webb and then his eyes came down to the name plate at the center of his desk. "Deputy Director? Since when?"
Webb raised his hand, a gesture that meant all questions would be answered in a short time. He smiled at his secretary, asked her to close the door and then returned to his desk plopping into the chair with a heavy sigh. "Webb, what the…"
Again he brought his hand up, raising his index finger which he brought to his lips in order to silence the impatient Naval officer. On the side of his desk, he pulled at a hidden compartment which slid out a thin drawer of sorts that housed an equally thin keypad. He punched in a long series of codes and then began an light humming inside of the room followed by a click of a deadbolt at the door. "It secures the office, makes sure no recording devices work or that anyone can hear… basically creates a vault."
"You know something…" It was Chegwidden which was out of his chair and reaching over the desk to grabb Webb through the lapels of his jacket. He didn't punch the man but the force of his actions yanked the spook out of his chair and halfway over the desk. "What do you know!"
"Please don't break my nose again!" Webb pleaded, his face scrunching as he prepared for that strike. "Let me go, please."
Chegwidden glanced at Harm who nodded at his commanding officer and then both men settled into their guest chairs while Webb straightened himself out. "Kershaw is dead… It's not news and it won't be because he was found to be the mole inside the agency, the one that gave Mac and me up to Sadik three years ago."
"And you don't want the bad press. How typical."
"Shut up, Rabb! We can't have it. After 9/11 the American people are losing faith in what we were designed to do. Both the FBI and the CIA have gotten so much flack funding is being shifted away from us and we can't have that. Regardless what anyone thinks, we're the ones that keep the bogeymen away."
The anger that course through him made his cheeks tint red. All of the years of spying, of training, endless missions that always seemed to go south and now, Webb knew why. "I didn't want this promotion but, I was the one that knew Kershaw the best and found the anomalies…. There was one silver lining...I just returned from Tehran."
"This is why I couldn't get back to you sooner." He produced a manila envelope and slid it across to Harm who eagerly tilted it over to have half an inch of paperwork and images spill onto his lap. There were transcripts, all of them translating some sort of squiggly language into English.
Farid Ahmadi's name was all over the pages as were his father and uncle, one of two the men he would succeed in Iran. He set those pages aside conce trating solely on the stacks of black and white photographs that focuses on a sprawling estate wjth a mountain as its backdrop. "That's one of Farid's estates."
The place was crawling with security, armed men on all possible entry points and some standing on the roof. There were more of those men standing on a wide balcony where Ahmadi and three women covered from head to toe in a black niqab standing next to where the the man sat reading a newspaper.
"Remember how I mentioned human traffcking? Information was hidden in secret files on Kershaw's computer. He knew Mac was sold only the trail stopped when I tried to find who bought her." He motioned to the picture, one of Ahmadi smoking a cigarette as the women stood behind him just out of focus. "Somehow she fell into Ahmadi's harem as his first of three wives."
"Wife? She's his...his wife? No." The idea made Harm's stomach tie in knots and he needed to swallow down the bile in order not to retch. He kept flipping through images each one, he knew would bring him closer to seeing her. "Mac can't be married to Ahmadi, she already has a husband."
"The Admiral filled me in. Makes sense a lot of what happened...or didn't in Paragiay."
"Did she turn you down?" Harm glanced up at the spook, an amused smirk spreading on her lips. "Of course she did, you aren't her type." He continued to flip through the pictures quicker now getrinv to the ones that were close ups of each woman. "Where is she?"
" I have a team on them watching all of Ahmadi's moves and making sure Mac's kept safe. Some of the details are hazy but from what we found the marriage was quick and pissed off a lot of families. Ahmadi's a good looking kid and likely to suceed is father in the council of guadians at some point. Hence why your little stunt was such a problem."
Harm finally got to the last few images, his heart beating faster and faster as they zoomed in closer to the last woman. Her face was obscured but, instinctively he knew it was her, it was Mac and she was alive. Then came the final groups of pictures and eyes he'd known by heart stared back at him. "Sarah…"
The desperate look of love and hope in Harm's eyes made Webb shake his head. He'd loved a woman that way before and lost her as well. It hardened him but that resilence came with a price he hoped Harm would never have to pay. "Harm…" The last peices of information would dig that daggar deeper but it was a key point he needed Harm to know. "She has no memory of her past life. That woman is not Sarah MacKenzie anymore… Her name is Nazanin."