Sorry for the delay in this one.
Birthday, Vacation... work... work... work... we've been swamped. I've been swamped. Remodeling my room and a cat that doesn't like when I am on the phone and protests because I am not playing with her. She's adorable though. :) Mistakes are mine, I haven't had the chance to really read this over... On with the show. This is a bit of a filler chapter... yes I know, I know... but it is. ;)
Chapter 34 - Sarah
Ten days. It had been ten days since she'd last seen him. Ten days since she left her home in order to saunter back to a country she didn't belong in. Ten whole damned days locked up in her opulent apartments which felt more like a prison cell.
Ten days of living in constant fear.
This waiting game was far more involved than when she was taken in Paraguay. Back then she had Harm to consider, his assumed death, the feelings that manifested when dreams told her that he'd lived. There was the ride in the cargo ship, her escape and then nothing...blank...all of her memories of Sarah MacKenzie disappeared.
Unlike the last time there wasn't a confused woman to cajole and convince. She wasn't willing to believe the lies of a man who made her fall blindly once before like the foolish woman Nazanin was.
At least her other self had nothing to fear other than a husband who was often plagued with the need to cheat. His punishments for her mistakes were only a novelty and ones that bothered Farid. She wasn't to be harmed by anyone and heads would roll if Nazanin Ahmadi appeared to even be scratched.
Sarah MacKenzie wouldn't be afforded the same treatment, she knew. If word got out about who she really was there would be hell to pay, swift punishment and even death. Each time the door to her rooms was unlocked she imagined one of the guards taking her to Farid. Her lies were exposed by one of the few people she trusted and all Mac could wonder was why?
How could a trusted friend and ally sell them out? At first, she figured it to be a ruse until a week ago when Farid walked her down to the gardens and there she found Victor Galindez and Sadik Fahd.
They sat next to one another as if they were now buddies or business partners. All of her intuition slammed Mac right in the chest - Gunny had turned. She might have not yet believed it until he began to interrogate her, waiting for her to crack.
Sadik's eyes practically glowed when he saw her; lips spread in a malevolent smirk. His appearance had changed yet again and it was apparent why the man's nickname was "The Chameleon."
His hair was long and dyed blond, parted at the sides, hanging at shoulder length. He was clean shaven, wearing a blue suit with a white turtleneck; even his skin was lighter. Mac may have walked past him if out in public but his voice… it was the stuff of nightmares.
"Hello Sarah." The way he dragged out her name made her skin crawl. Her mind was briefly thrust back to Paraguay when evil eyes stared at her as his hand jammed a knife into her abdomen. Had she been pregnant both she and her child would have died then and there, it was a memory that almost had Mac cradling her flat belly..
"My love? Who does he speak to?" She was thankful for the headscarf which hid her expressions and prayed her eyes would not betray her.
Farid tried to speak until he was interrupted by Gunny who still had his middle eastern appearance. His eyes were cold when he stood and slammed his hands into the table. "Cut the crap, Colonel! Tell Farid the truth. I promise, I swear...Mr. Sadik promised no one will hurt you. I swear to you, Marine to Marine...you won't be hurt."
"Co-co-lonel?" Mac laid a heavy accent on her rank much like a woman who didn't speak English. She turned to her husband and placed a hand on his forearm. "My love...Why do they look at me that way?"
"They believe you deceive me."
"I do not…you know I do not." She turned back to the two men and set her sights on Victor. "You brought me home, back to my husband and left before I could thank you...I thank you now, you made our family whole again."
"C'mon Mac, give it up. You can't keep this charade up forever."
She stared at him blankly, her eyebrows furling in feigned confusion. "I ...No speak English...Farsi..Speak...Farsi."
"Give me a fucking break! You believe her?" Victor pointed between Farid and Mac, repeating his question in Farsi only to find the man wrapping an arm tightly around his wife.
"Victor, are you certain?" The question came from Sadik who seemed highly confused by the interaction. He expected a sign of remembrance, some spark in her eyes but there was nothing. The woman standing before him was a blank slate. "I see no signs of Sarah...Of your Colonel. She is no use to me like this."
"She remembers...she's just acting, aren't you Colonel?"
The table was set for dining, beautiful china, properly spaced utensils...it was the knife that caught Mac's eye, the way it shined in the light, it's blade calling to her. Never had she wanted to ram one through someone as much as she did Victor Galindez at the moment. She wondered how far his betrayal went and how much of their botched mission in Paraguay was his fault. She couldn't deny he'd saved Harm - perhaps that was the reason some of her ire dissipated but the disappointment would live in her forever.
"Go back inside, Sweet Nazanin...I will tend to our guests." Like a good Muslim woman, she did as told never even casting a backwards glance until she was in the safety of the mansion. From one of the windows she stared out and caught the argument between her husband and the two men. Farid was defending her, grabbing Gunny by the lapels of his shirt while Sadik stood by and did nothing.
Mac felt filthy after the interaction, so much so she headed to the shower, cranked the water as hot as it would go and stood in the stream until it cooled. Her skin was pink when she stepped out, steam even rose from the top of her head. She wanted Harm here, she needed him here. Lord, what had she done?
She stared at the woman in the mirror, the reflection that was still marred but healing. Her face had blotches of green now, very little purple and the cut on her lip was nearly healed. She stepped out of the bathroom to find Farid sitting on the edge of her bed, his fingers mindlessly playing with the edges of an ornate niqab that was draped across the mattress. "My love...I was bathing."
Farid stood and moved towards her. His hand automatically came up to touch the fading bruises, his fingers slid across her cheeks and pinched the short locks of hair that had once reached her buttocks. "Your beautiful hair."
"It will grow."
"He cut it?"
Nazanin nodded. "Yes...I believe he thinks I am someone else." She held her breath when he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. There was a part of her that still enjoyed his attention, the other longed for the heated kisses of another. It made her emotions spin in opposite directions, so much so that she needed to take a step away from him. "I'm sorry."
"You will heal… Come… sit." He took her hand and led her to the bench on the end of the bed where they sat together. Farid's fingers ran along the back of her hand, tracing every line, every knuckle. He felt the ridges of the scar on her palm and frowned. "I wish to take your pain away."
"It's too soon, my love."
"Then ease some of mine." Farid stared at her quizzically, his eyes unreadable. He took a deep breath and stood, his body physically tensed as he paced in front of her. "Do you know who Sarah is?"
He'd asked before but this time a chill ran down her spine at his words. Farid's unreadable expression turned dangerous and deadly, a look she saw when his so-called urges tempted him. She wished so badly to have worn her headscarf, it would have hidden her expression much more seamlessly. As it was, he saw a change in her evident by the way the back of his hand cracked against her cheek.
The strike made her fall off the bench, her body hitting the ground and immediately curling into a ball to protect herself. "No...My love, no."
"No you don't know?"
"I told you once, the man… the man who took me… he called me Sarah. He would not call me Nazanin no matter how much I tried."
"Are you certain you do not know who Sarah is?"
"I do not, my love." She cried with genuine tears because the slap was so hard it had worsened her already battered cheek. It made a migraine explode inside her head and when he knelt down next to her all Nazanin could do was shield her body further.
But Farid didn't strike again. The abusive man turned gentle, sitting next to her, tugging her body so that her head lay on his lap and his fingers could run through her damp hair. She cried secretly longing to be back in the arms of a man who would never hurt her, the cries turning to gulps for air as she felt herself being strangled although Farid's hands were nowhere near her throat. "What do you remember?"
Flashes of her life as Nazanin passed through her mind although Mac still didn't know how she became that woman. "I recall waking at a hospital. I recall you telling me I was yours. I know I have forgotten things but I have not forgotten to love you."
"Who is Sarah?"
"I do not know...Am I Sarah? Was I Sarah?"
Farid sighed heavily like the weight of the world was crushing him and maybe it was. He gave her a sympathetic smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and the fingers in her hair gripped the strands painfully. "Are you lying to me, Sweet Nazanin?"
"I believe you are lying to me, my love...Who was I?"
That made his fingers ease and his touch turned from painful to loving. One thumb brushed away her tears and for the life of her Mac couldn't stop that chill from rolling down her spine at such a familiar touch that wasn't his to share with her. "You may never know. Rest. You are still much affected by that man. You need more rest."
He slipped out from under her, helped Nazanin stand and then tucked her into bed. He motioned to the niqab still draped across the bed and the other "gifts" inside a velvet box - a necklace and earrings that were far too opulent for her to ever wear with her coverings. "In time, I wish to see you in these and only in these...In time."
"In time...you shall." Mac waited for him to leave, to hear the definitive 'click' of the lock at her apartment door before she threw herself out of bed and began to frantically search the room for something she could fashion as a weapon. This wasn't good, his behavior was as erratic as ever, his questioning was now taking a malevolent approach. Her contact to the outside World had betrayed her and Mac wasn't sure how she could ever reach Harm or Clay without blowing her cover.
She immediately went to the window when she heard the 'whomp, whomp' of a helicopter coming to land in the large area outside the mansion. From her vantage point she could see Farid boarding with Gunny and Sadik in tow. She only hoped the two men wouldn't turn Farid fully against her and not for the last time, prayed the cavalry would come soon.
Another day passed with her locked inside of her apartments - her only escape was the passages within the walls that didn't really lead anywhere. All of the other rooms were locked from the outside and the only times she was able to collect as weapons was a fork and a flat knife. Farid's office, which normally had a knife inside of the left drawer of his desk, was devoid of any weapons. The antique rifle on a large table had no ammo and was unlikely to be of any use. She thought of making a shank, to fashion a pointy tip out of her toothbrush or any other plastic article she could find but there was little to help shave it down.
And so she used her drawing pencils, sharpening each of them as much as possible with the idea of going for the eyes of any would-be attacker. The helicopter had not returned and as day turned into night she wondered what was so important to keep her 'husband' away from her for this long.
She grew weary of pretending to be Nazanin Ahmadi and remembering certain mannerisms that the guards and servants would expect from her. Eventually Farid would take more from her that she was willing to give and when that day came Mac feared the depression that would certainly follow. Depression, shame, pain and anger - all of which would likely destroy what was left of Sarah MacKenzie. Worst of all, she wondered if Harm would even love her after this? Would he resent her for leaving? Would he hate her?
A loud rumbling outside the estate snapped her out of the reverie.
There was a sound of gunfire, fighting, yelling - disturbances that were not normal anywhere near the Ahmadi family home. She felt a tightening in her chest, her heart hammering so hard that it fueled the waves of electricity now running through her veins, making her skin tingle. Her hand came to her chest, the other over her middle section when a sudden onset of pain made her double over. It was the most bizarre feeling, as if someone was kicking her over and over again. The pain made her fall to the ground gasping for air until she almost yelled for the invisible force to stop.
Her vision tunneled, the corners of her sight blurring and turning black until Mac could feel herself start to black out. It was the sudden change in the room, the door thrown wide open that stopped her from fainting when a guard ambled in and simply stared at her. "Come."
As quickly as the pain began, it all ceased as if nothing had happened. She sat up and stared at the guard which never so much as ever acted so coldly towards her. "You come now." He reached for her, grabbed her arm and roughly made Mac stand.
"You can not touch me. Farid will kill you for this."
"Farid needs you to come now….Put on your headdress." He commanded and Mac did as told. Her heart began to hammer again, that chill in her spine was prevalent now as was fear.
He knew.
There were more guards standing in the hallway, lined halfway down all glaring at her with an air of inferiority. While the youngest of the guards - the one whom Nazanin knew had a crush on her - didn't manhandle her, he wasn't as gentle. He all but yanked her down the hall, his eyes left no room for argument and like a good woman she followed without question.
Sweat dripped down her spine and the tingling sensation from earlier returned with a deep sense of warmth that was cause for concern. It made her pick up her step, almost yanking the young guard with her following until they stopped in front of Farid's office.
She could hear the sound of skin meeting skin. The muffled groans of a man that was being held up by four guards while Farid dished punch after punch at his midsection. His face was bloodied, the jacket of his fatigues were on the floor and the undershirt was so saturated with sweat it clung to his body like a second skin. One guard grabbed the man by the hair raising his head up although Mac didn't need to see who it was.
She knew.
She knew because that man held the other half of her soul. "Harm."