Chapter 9 - 11 Minutes
October 26, 2006
Hotel Barrière Le Majestic Cannes
Cannes
"The United States?" Nazanin's face scrunched at the idea, suddenly feeling apprehensive over Farid's plan to charter a private plane to America. The sister wives seemed excited, for what reason she was not sure as neither would be allowed out of whatever hotel prison Farid would lock them into. "Why America? It's full of infidels. They are not modest, only brazen and arrogant."
Esfir, the youngest of the two wives shrugged at such implications. "American's are beautiful, the men in particular."
"You are married to Farid, you mustn't think much less look at other men." Nazanin chastised but the other women could only laugh. "He will hurt you if he found you speaking like this."
"Speaking like what?" Farid seemed to appear out of the shadows, a sardonic look on his face that was mostly present around the other two women. He cast a deadly look at the younger two easing slightly once his eyes locked onto Nazarin. "Did you draw more, my love?"
"No." She lied having stashed the images of another man's eyes under the mattress she slept in. It wouldn't end well if he found them, she knew. He would be upset because the detail was too real as if she'd actually known the man behind those eyes. In his mind and part of hers as well, there could only be Farid. "I've been tired."
"Is that so?" Carefully he walked towards the door that adjoined Nazanin's room to the seating area. She could hear him throwing things apart, decorations crashing to the ground. Next came the bed sheets that flew through the air and the sound of something heavy hitting the carpeted floor.
No. She thought, holding her breath when Farid's heavy steps hurried back to the living room. He brought with him her small sketchbook, rifling through each blank page until he found the ones hidden in the middle.
She knew how he found them, one of the others had seen the sketches, marveled in them and the other, Esfir was jealous. She was always so jealous. One by one he took the drawing of an unknown man's eyes and made a show of ripping the image into bits and pieces. He destroyed her work, his eyes never leaving hers as he did. Nazanin didn't show emotion, not one bit of it simply stared back with defiance until he found the last one. His eyes were so alive, a hue of blue green that would darken when he made love.
She'd seen those eyes before, knew them by heart because they'd once claimed her soul. Her own drawing made her think about the past life that was being obscured by her mind. Unfortunately, she could never see him, not really - just the ever expressive eyes. "Who is he?"
"I don't know."
"Don't you? He's special to you for some reason. You drew his eyes over and over...You know this man...Intimately."
"I don't… Farid please do not damage that one. I beg of you."
"You can not ask anything of me. Only I decide when you need things. Only I decide what you draw." He made a show of ripping apart the last image, slowly and steadily shredding each page and letting the pieces fall to the floor. "Why do you try to hurt me, my love?"
"I'm not trying to hurt you. I was trying to remember. He knows me from somewhere and I know him." She sounded desperate because part of her needed to know what happened, why she simply forgot everything.
"You are not to draw him anymore. There will be consequences. Painful ones. Do not test me on this Nazanin." He didn't hit her because he rarely did unless she'd stubbornly brought out his ire. The other women would pay for her drawings, she knew especially when grabbed Esfir by the arm and violently yanked her to his feet.
"Farid...Who am I? Who am I, really?" Nazanin pleaded knowing full well she would never know.
"You are my wife. There is nothing else for you to know." With that he took Esfir out of the living room, throwing the door behind him. It made a loud sound that echoed in the living room.
With Farid gone Nazanin attempted to pick up the pieces and try to reassemble them like a puzzle. She needed to save some of it so that she could draw him again and one day remember. "Why do you do this to me?" She asked the other woman, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I heal you, I try to protect you from him and you betray me like this, why?"
"Because you're his favorite and we hate you for it."
Favorite? Nazanin didn't wish to be anyone's favorite, she only wished to disappear into the shadows and have the man never set eyes on her again.
November 11th, 2006
Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History
Washington, DC
Harm sat in the back seat of a luxury SUV, his head pressed firmly against the headrest and his eyes were closed. He was breathing only because it was necessary, if he could have held his breath for the last few days, he would have. His palms were sweaty, clammy and he kept rubbing them on the black slacks he wore that matched the equally black suit and tie that made him look like a secret service member than a military officer. From the back of his ear hung a wire attached to one leg of the large glasses that contained a small camera - his only communication to the surveillance van that would eventually move into position beneath the city.
A well trimmed beard and mustache covered his face, another effort to keep his appearance as anonymous as possible given the cameras scattered around the museum should Webb's small team not be able to shut them down. With nerves on edge, his heart was hammering so hard
only slow breaths would contain the erratic beating. Harm had a reason to be anxious, the next hour could make or break the rest of his life. In his mind he worked through the intel, reciting every turn, mapping out the museum floor plans until he knew them by heart. Points of ingress and egress, ulterior methods of escape should the mission run into a snafu. There would be no fuck ups, no mistakes or errors. Everything needed to run like clockwork. It had to or else...Lord, he didn't want to consider the ramifications if something went wrong. This was his best shot, he couldn't lose Mac again. If she went back to Tehran he knew another chance would never come again.
They'd planned this for days, a way to rescue Mac and get her away from Farid. A mission carefully constructed in secret with the help of the CIA. It was perfect and yet apprehension weighed heavily on his shoulders. What if something went wrong? What if Clay was right?
"She won't know you, Harm." Webb had warned him because the CIA now had a pulse on Farid's whereabouts and had been watching the man with much more interest. "I sent Victor to France, made him purposely bump into her. She looked right into his eyes and nothing...not even a spark of recognition."
"She wasn't married to Gunny, Clay. She married me. She'll remember me." Harm was sure of it although a deep part of his mind wasn't so keen to accept that idea and it scared the hell out of him.
"And if she never does? What then? You can't force someone to remember...Maybe...maybe she doesn't want to."
"Webb…"
"Rabb...she has NO memory..get that through your skull. NO memory at all. There is no information on how she got to Farid, where she'd been or how she's been living. If she remembered wouldn't you think she'd find a way to make contact?"
"I have to try."
"And then? What if nothing works?"
"Then...Sarah MacKenzie is dead and I'll have to let her go."
He couldn't argue that point because the eyes that stared back at him a few weeks ago didn't know him. There may have been a flash of recognition but their silent conversation was gone.
Now the plan was to make contact, to get her alone with him and see if she'd been a willing captive or simply unable to escape. Not that it mattered either way, Harm was determined to pull Mac away from Farid and keep her safe.
"Harm?" He felt a palm press against his leg, stopping it from bouncing up and down which was violently shaking the car they sat in. He'd never been this much on edge a single moment in his life, not even at the anticipation of screaming down the deck of an aircraft carrier for the first time. Even his hands were shaking, the normally cool and collected military officer giving way to the raw emotions of just a man. "You need to calm down."
Harm snorted, would that he could but the last few days only fueled the adrenaline which meant more sleepless nights spent at the dining table studying floor plans and camera angles, leaving nothing to chance. He tried to ignore the voice at the back of his mind, the one that kept showing him visions like a bad horror movie: Mac strapped to the torture table. Mac being hit by the bastard that dared call himself her husband. Mac's eyes focused on his without a trace of recognition.
That was the part he feared the most, not the physical aspect of taking her away from Farid but, her memories or lack thereof. He sighed deeply and balled his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. "How do you rescue someone who may not want to be rescued?"
Chegwidden shook his head, the guilt from the last few years evident in the way his face fell. He failed his officers once and this time, he would do everything possible to never fail them again. "Technically that is not a rescue, it's kidnapping. I did my fair share as a SEAL...You need to relax."
"I can't. All of these years...all of them with that bastard doing God knows what to her."
He didn't want to think heavily about that part, the details of what had occurred in Farid's hands and what little knowledge he had about how women were treated. Harm only prayed she hadn't suffered much and if she had that it wouldn't have a lasting affect. Mac was strong but even the toughest could fall.
Clayton Webb popped his head through the open door, his ear plastered to a burner phone to which he was barking out orders. "ETA five minutes, you ready?"
"Why are you helping us? If you got caught operating in the States…"
"Because our former deputy director screwed us. Because she paid the price, you both did. I'm not a callused asshole, Harm. I'm not your enemy either. That being said, breathe a word to anyone about this and I'll make sure you and the Admiral disappear."
Harm smirked and slipped out of the vehicle. "You're not such a bad guy, Webb."
"Yeah yeah, remember that when I need another favor."
Nazanin walked out of the hall that hosted the gala, her curious mind gawking as she passed through the dinosaur exhibits, the bones from each creature stretching far above held together by the tiny wires that created the frame. It was beautiful and eerily familiar as if she'd stepped foot in these halls before which was highly unlikely. She walked to a plaque, her fingers moving over the words that were familiar and yet, not so much. They were in English and she could only decipher bits and pieces at a time until the attempts to do so began to give her a headache. "I don't know why you bother trying?"
Farid's voice echoed in the large hall despite the groups of guests that were casually passing each exhibit before the gala began. He came to her side, his hand wrapping around her arm and gripping it a little tighter forcing a gasp from Nazanin. Part of her wanted to pull her arm away but she knew the consequences, and was warned of what causing a scene would do. And so she stood by, the dutiful wife and the only one allowed to accompany her husband to such an event.
It was an odd place to host a gathering for foreign dignitaries and Farid was only tapped to join because his father had taken ill and his uncle was not much for such events. He was there to represent his family and attempted to forge some sort of alliance with the Americans, at least on paper. Like his father and uncle, he didn't care for the West although he'd spent his fair share vacationing in both Florida and California. "You look so beautiful, my love."
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his grip relaxing as both hands came to her arms and gently ran down the turquoise niqab Nazanin wore. The garment was elegant, made out of fine silk that showed off some of her figure unlike the normal garbs that were nothing more than black, heavy sheets that covered all of her body. The colour accentuated the flecks of amber in her eyes and even her husband was mesmerized when he first saw her, much to the jealousy of her sister wives. "Curiosity. I find these beasts fascinating for some reason."
"Mmmm." He let her go and stood to the side watching as she stopped at each case to marvel the fossils housed within. Farid smiled and followed, there were certain aspects to his favorite wife that he enjoyed but never so much as when she took pleasure in such silly things. "You are smiling. I can tell by the light in your eyes which makes you even more beautiful, my sweet Nazanin."
"With all of these clothes covering me, how can you find me beautiful?"
Farid took her hand, threading his fingers with hers. He was never the type to show such affection in public but there was something about Nazanin that always forced his lighter side to show. "I do not need to see your body to find you beautiful, my love. Your eyes are enough. Your eyes and the knowledge that I am the only man who will see your soft skin tonight."
"Don't you prefer one of the others?"
"No. Tonight, I desire you. Only you, my sweet Nazanin." He must have sensed her hesitation or perhaps it was the hand that she slipped out of his own without conscious thought. Any emotion he may have felt for her turned to anger and one that he needed to temper down on. "Do you not wish to share a bed with me again? Do you no longer love me?"
Nazanin turned to Farid, her eyes unfortunately showing the apprehension she began to feel around him. Long gone was that love she had although it still wanted to simmer all because of the sense of propriety and duty. She wanted to be a good wife to him, the one he cherished above all but the chances of that were gone the moment he bedded another and the true monster he made himself shown. "It has been a long time, my love...I am afraid."
"Are you not healed enough?" His palm cupped her womb where their child once grew, gently rubbing circles through the fabric that covered her. "The doctor said it was not impossible for you to have another. We will try again."
"Please, Farid… Not tonight. I am not ready...I don't think my body will ever be ready for a child." Nazanin never should have spoken the last phrase out loud but she knew what had happened that day in the cellar, the way she purposely allowed her body to be destroyed in order to abort his child. It weighed heavily on her soul, that sin that stained her but saved a life that would have been put through hell just because she was female. Nazanin only prayed that Allah would forgive her although she doubted that her god ever listened.
While he didn't strike her, his hand was on her arm again digging painfully into her skin. It would leave a mark, his mark on her but this time Nazanin bit back any sound of pain because she knew Farid enjoyed that too. "There has never been anything but willing kindness for you because you are special to me...Mark my words, I will bed you tonight, Nazanin. Don't let it be by force. Don't destroy our happiness. Compose yourself and return to my side. The Americans are wondering where you went. This… your wandering does not look good."
"Of course but first, may I use the restroom?"
Farid's lips curved into a smile, at the very least part of her complied to their way of life. "I'll have the guards posted nearby, my love. Hurry, I wish to leave as soon as possible." He motioned for his men to follow as she walked down the hall searching out the facilities. That was when Nazanin felt the eyes that were upon her, a familiar caress that warmed her skin that came from a man standing in the shadows. She glanced towards the man and quickly looked away for his intense gaze made her heart begin to race.
Harm's fists had been rolled up into balls so tightly it ached when he finally released them. Happenstance brought him to the dinosaur exhibit as a way to feel close to the woman he'd lost once. That's where he'd found her curiously walking past each bone, each fossil engrossed in a subject she once enjoyed to give him facts and figures of. The turquoise garbs flowed beautifully off her curves, still hiding most of her feminine form but it was oddly fitting.
She didn't notice him and so Harm slipped into the shadows standing by, idly waiting for someone to begin the sequence that would take her away from the man that approached her. Farid. He was dressed in some gaudy suit and although he'd calmly walked to her side, Harm noticed the harsh grip on her arm. "Harm, no...stand down...STAND DOWN it is't time!" It was the sound of Webb's voice bellowing through the earpiece that forced him to a grinding halt.
He was already halfway to her, his fingers caressing the weapon at his side that the CIA had helped him sneak in as a part of his security detail cover story. Murderous intent flashed briefly through his mind, images of him emptying every last cartridge in his magazine into Farid Ahmadi. "Harm, don't do it. You'll never save her if you pull that trigger."
It was sheer willpower that had his hand drop to his side, his body sliding backwards into the shadows cast by overhead lighting. His eyes never left them, specifically Mac who seemed to flinch when the bastard pressed a palm against her belly. Another maddening flash of rage forced his eyes closed, the warm metal of the pistol he carried called out to him again but he simply bit down on his cheek, tasted the blood in his mouth and swallowed hard.
When he opened his eyes again Farid had released her and was headed back to the gala while Mac went the opposite way. Her eyes fell on his, a simple act that made his heart begin to hammer so hard he felt it slamming into his chest. Harm waited for a reaction, a sign, anything that would spark between them.
There was nothing.
Nothing.
No call for help.
No recognition.
Simply sadness and pain and shame.
It took all his strength to remain still, his eyes tightly closing if only to recall the way her eyes locked onto his. They weren't the eyes of the woman he married nor the partner he battled in court for nine years or even that of his consummate best friend. She did not know him and an odd burning sensation began in his chest right over his heart along with a depressing feeling of guilt.
"Rabb, get into position." The earpiece crackled to life making his eyes snap open. He glanced around the area and then hurried out of the exhibit taking the service door he knew would lead to the opposite side of the museum.
"On my way." It took all of skills as a pilot to remind Harm how to calm down, though he wasn't completely alone there was no back up in the building and he relied solely on the technical help from the men in the van across the mall in an empty underground parking structure. He flicked over his wrist, staring at the timepiece that began a countdown - 11 minutes - that's all of the time that he was afforded from that point on and there would be no going back once Webb began the sequence of tripping the fire and motion detectors. The alarms would be a ruse to get patrons out of the gala and Farid's security detail had been instructed to use a specific corridor should an emergency exit be deemed necessary.
10 Minutes...
The first set of alarms began their annoying shrill at an exhibit down the hall from where the gala was held. It sent security hurrying in that direction and the soft classical music was cut off almost instantly. He stood in the shadows again, waiting by a door scanning the crowd until he spotted the table he knew Farid and Mac would be seated at along with three American dignitaries. The man's security had surrounded them, three men, Harm counted which was far less than what they believed would accompany the Iranian.
9 minutes...
The sound of the alarms grew closer, louder and would soon engulf the area that they stood in. It sent another team of security scrambling, Farid's included, who grabbed the pair and began to escort them quickly away from the throng of guests and towards the door where Harm stood. He slipped inside, hurried down the corridor to the designated spot he'd been ordered to stand at beneath a stairwell.
8 minutes.
"They're taking too long, Webb." He spoke out loud, watching the metal door from his vantage point, praying the time would slow down and he would be given enough of a chance to disappear into the darkened museum. "Webb...Webb? Damn!" The earpiece crackled with heavy static and a loss of connection which meant he had no way to stop or slow the timetable should anything change. "C'mon...c'mon."
For a moment he held his breath, wondering if perhaps they had taken another point of egress. At any second the lights would go out, bathing the gala in pure darkness and if they weren't in the corridor by then, the likelihood of him finding Mac in the dark was close to impossible. Harm stepped out of the hiding space beneath the stairwell, intent on heading back to the gala and as he did he heard the door creak open - the sound of men speaking in Farsi with harsh tones were barely audible over the sound of the alarms. Farid and Mac were practically shoved into the corridor and Harm was caught before he had a chance to hide again.
7 Minutes.
One of the men saw him and quickly pulled out a small pistol aiming it directly at Harm. He raised his hands in surrender but before the man could approach him the lights flickered and then went out. In the cloak of darkness he lunged at the guard, managing to pry the weapon loose before a single shot was fired. Behind him he could hear both Mac and Farid screaming. "Help!" It was one of the few words he could decipher before the other guard took him by the arms.
6 Minutes
Harm spun around and used all of his taller frame to slam the man into the other guard knocking them both unconscious against the nearest wall. When the emergency lights dimly lit the corridor, he found Farid cowering in a corner using the woman to cover him like a shield. He glared pathetically at the man, his hand coming back to the butt of the pistol with another urge to destroy the one that kept her away from him. "Let's go….Now!"
Her eyes came to his, scared and not understanding when he held his hand out. Mac pushed it away with a hard force and continued to use herself as a shield for the man beneath her. She yelled something at Harm, words in a language he could not decipher but her refusal to leave was clearly evident. God he didn't want to take her by force.
5 Minutes.
"Rabb, get out of there." The earpiece finally came to life again, Webb's voice coming through in broken bits and pieces, the urgency evident in his tone. The lights would only be down a short time and after that security cameras in the corridors and tunnels would give away their position. "Get out of there NOW!"
Harm still held out his hand, his eyes pleading with her to follow. "Mac… Come with me, please." She didn't. She wouldn't and it broke his heart when he forcefully tore her away from the other man, an act that would not go over lightly. Signs of his Marine were still there given the way she fought him, fists wildly slamming into his body. Mac was making it impossible for him to move quickly, her squirming body forcing him to drag her until he got back to the top of the stairs and stopped. "I'm sorry."
He had never hit a woman. Both his mother and grandmother had made sure to raise a gentleman without any inkling at physical abuse. Loren Singer had tested him, as had others but he used his control to hold himself back. This time, he had no choice. "I'm so sorry."
4 minutes
The blade of his hand connected suddenly with her neck - a 'carotid strike' that made Mac fall limply into his arms. The knockout allowed him to collect her body, sling her over his shoulders in a fireman's carry that would allow him to move quicker. Harm almost lost his footing in the stairwell and had to use one hand to balance the both of them against one of the concrete walls. He took a breath, gripped Mac tighter and hurried into the barely lit tunnels beneath the museum.
He'd known about the labyrinth below the city but could never imagine the maze of unused corridors spread to so many locations. They snaked underneath the National Mall, eventually leading to an underground parking structure where Webb's crew had cut a metal door open in order for him to escape. "Harm… move faster. The security cameras are coming online sixty seconds earlier than we thought."
"Then stop them! I'm not even at the door yet!"
3 Minutes.
He was breathing hard now, the effort to descend down stairs with his burden taking every ounce of his strength. This had been the end result to every strenuous workout he'd endured in the past three years, each set back that he used as a stepping point to get stronger, faster culminating to this very moment. "We can't… just… hurry… take that left."
The tunnel was tighter than the one before, slimming down so much that he had to shift Mac's body so that he carried her over one shoulder in order to squeeze through. "Which way, Webb? Webb? Webb! Damnit!"
2 Minutes….
There was one archway left and another on the right, splitting the main corridor in two and for the life of him Harm could not remember which way to go. The hum above, an electric breathing of current began to echo through the catacombs signaling that power was soon to be restored. "Webb…"
Sweat trickled down his spine, his head hammered from a headache that had begun to present itself the second the alarms began to sound. Harm glared down each corridor knowing he quickly needed to make a choice one of which could damn them. "No" The word came out in a breath when the lights began to flicker back on and the space around them glowed with the angry tube lights overhead. Far behind in the deep recess of the tunnel system he could hear voices, footsteps and they were getting closer the longer he waited.
"Fuck it." His gut told him to go left, down the walkway that was darker than the other, less lit and ominous looking. He practically ran though the weight of Mac on his shoulder had fully zapped his strength but Harm was determined to not stop. He would never stop.
"Please… please." Finally an oxidized metallic door blocked the path and his hand tightly gripped the wheel that would turn and unlock what appeared to be a hatch. It moved effortlessly and opened to yet another stairwell.
Up.
That's right, he needed to go up and so he took the steps two by two summoning the rest of his energy as he exited out to the lowest floor of an underground parking garage. "Help. Help me."
Harm spotted the white surveillance van along with the black SUV hiding between two pillars in the darkest of corners. Not that it mattered, Webb made sure the place was clear of all vehicles faking some maintenance issues that would keep everyone out of that area.
"Harm!" It was Chegwidden that took Mac from his arms, concern gracing his features as she looked down at the woman he no longer knew. Her face was covered by the scarves and her body lay limply in his arms. "What happened?"
"She was fighting me. I had to knock her out." Harm got out between breaths. "She doesn't remember me. She doesn't remember a Goddamned thing. She wasn't held against her will, she was actually using her body to protect the bastard! I need to get her out of here. We're out of time."
The Admiral didn't question the younger man, instead hurried to the large vehicle placing Mac in the front seat and pulling the seatbelt across her body. He removed the cloths that covered her face and checked Mac's pulse to find it slow and steady.
"Where are you taking her?" Chegwidden asked when Harm jumped into the drivers seat.
"You know I won't tell you and it's not easy to find. Not exactly off the grid but almost." From his breast pocket Harm produced an envelope and handed it to his CO. "I'm not sure what will happen so that's my resignation. I know you feel you owe us but, if there comes a point just process it. It will be for the best."
"Commander...Harm, is that really what you want?"
It was Webb that stopped Harm from answering as he walked up with a large duffel that he threw into the back seat. "Cops surrounded the museum you need to go. Get out of here." He handed Harm a small pouch inside of which was a vial and a syringe. "Give her a dose. It'll keep her asleep."
"Do I want to know what's in this?"
"Probably not. Go."
Harm reached his hand out to Clay's and shook it with a flourish. "Thank you. I'll make contact over the burner phone when I can. Admiral…Stop blaming yourself over this." With that he pulled on his seatbelt and carefully navigated the SUV out into the streets of Washington.