Chapter 35 - Harm

One Day Earlier

Undisclosed Location

Tehran

There was little to do in the abandoned mansion that was to be his home for a short time. The television rarely worked, not that he really enjoyed watching it anyway. The books, still neatly stacked in shelves, were all written in the local language which left him at a loss for entertaining things to pass the time.

So he ran.

Despite warnings that he was to remain out of sight, Harm ran. It eased the stress, the tension and although it made him think of Mac, the memories were pleasant ones - the kind from when they shared morning runs together. He lost himself in those moments, the fantasy world where he could find some peace until she was his again.

He ran with a ball cap low to his brow so that his identity would remain hidden. The streets were empty so early in the morning, the few people merely shop owners getting ready for the day. Harm never took the same route, each was meticulously planned and crafted. A few runs got him close to the Ahmadi estate although he didn't dare get closer.

There were always guards in various points across the home. Most notable were the ones stationed on the rooftops that would use binoculars to peer out into the distance. He remained out of range from those, hidden behind trees and foliage while he stared at the french doors that led to Mac's apartments.

It killed Harm to know she was so close and yet, he couldn't reach her. It was killing him even more to wait when she'd given him the in to accessing the estate.

The walls were high all around leaving little room to breach the compound but he'd found a mistake, a tree that had been allowed to grow far over the bricks and metal. He could shimmy across, drop down and in the cover of night make his way to the garden on the West where he'd find the tunnel Mac's note would lead him to.

Instead he waited, keeping the secrets of Mac's note to himself despite sharing living space with Webb and his cronies. "I'm here, Mac….I'll come for you soon." He whispered into the wind and then commenced the run back.

The late Fall climate was pleasant, making him push the pace and add a couple of extra miles until he turned down the road, past the gate to the abandoned home. He was practically sprinting towards the end, enough that Harm was still huffing and puffing while grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Don't you get tired of running, Rabb?" Webb was seated at the large coffee table fiddling with a bulky laptop that had several gadgets attached. "You keep it up you're gonna drop dead from exhaustion. What good would that do?"

Harm took a long pull from the water and unceremoniously dropped into a chair across from the spook. "Counted six today...different posts on the East end. I know I have their rotation down. It's not as protected as Farid thinks."

Webb nodded and punched in a few keys. "We're still outnumbered."

"Can't bring in the cavalry?"

"No. We're already stretched too thin and it would take too long. I want us in and out with minimal casualties." Webb stared at Harm, his mind reaching back to when they first met and everything that happened between then and now.

While true that they weren't good friends, they were much more than just acquaintances and this whole situation with Mac had begun to gnaw on the deputy director. "Harm...I ah...I'm not good at this but. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"Clay, stop. Don't open up old wounds."

"No, hear me out...Had I known you two were married I would never, ever have brought her to Paraguay."

Paraguay. Harm didn't want to think about that place ever again. It held nothing but bad, bad memories. The sounds of bullets whizzing past them, the feel of each slicing through his skin, Mac being taken. "Why her? You can't tell me the agency had no one else."

They did. Webb could count on, at least, half a dozen women that were better candidates. All were attractive, all knew Farsi. All could carry on a cover story with ease and all were willing to tag along. But the fact was, "I wanted her...Wanted wanted her. It was clear the two of you weren't going anywhere... I thought. I believed she might be interested...I had a thing for her, I suppose I had from day one."

"And you put her in danger."

"It wasn't supposed to be that dangerous….We were betrayed. If I could take it back I would." I'll help you get her back."

"So you keep saying." Harm moved his neck crom aide to aide, trying to stretch out the kinks after several nights of terrible sleep and bad dreams. "It's been almost a week. I'm like a lion in a cage here."

"I'm surprised AJ signed off."

"He has his own share of regrets to atone for, I suppose." The older man had shared his own anguish, the ease of which he accepted Webb's request to take Mac, denying Harm's request to follow. He would forever have a part in splitting the two and now sought to find the way to reunite the couple before leaving the Navy.

Then there was Gunny, Victor Galindez, The Assassin. A once trusted ally who had so seamlessly become part of their fold. He was a true Marine, loyal to a fault and Harm still had difficulty believing he could betray them. It wasn't in his blood but, as Webb eluded, many other good men had turned as well. "I want to believe Gunny is still on our side."

"He isn't, Harm. He hasn't been for a while. I trusted him with my life. There's few people that I can say that about. This just pisses me off and I can't do a thing about it. He's a traitor now."

There was no going back once you turned, Harm knew. And if Gunny was sent home he'd be tried as a traitor and likely given capital punishment. All for the love of a woman who didn't return the sentiment.

Harm pressed a hand to his chest, feeling through his shirt for the dog tags that once again held their wedding rings. He couldn't leave them behind because Harm needed a piece of her to keep him moving and keep him close to Mac. "I would do the same, you know. I would give up God and country, my very soul for her."

Webb's fingers slowed on the keyboard, he stopped typing all together and then raised his head to stare at Harm. "The woman he loved, Fareeza? She used him. She was working for Kabir. I had the Marines cover it up because the truth would have destroyed him. It destroyed him anyway."

"He wouldn't have listened if you told him otherwise, Clay." I wouldn't have listened, Harm thought to himself as he recalled Mac's words: "Love is an antidote to instincts." His own had been called to question in this long journey with her.

So many times his gut said one thing if only to protect his heart. He pushed her away. He let her go. He found comfort in the arms of other women when he should have just professed his love and figured things out.

"What are you doing, Webb?"

The man was back to staring at the monitor, punching in a few keys and then arranging one of the devices attached to its side. "Looking for someone."

"Let me guess? Sadik."

Webb smirked and cocked his head to the side. He was comparing images of everyone who had entered the Ahmadi home in the last month trying to spot what the terrorist could potentially look like. "He's called the Chameleon for good reason. It's why we can't catch him. Sadik changes his appearance like a snake sheds its skin...Aha, and there he is."

Harm came around to see the images on the screen. There was a picture of Sadik, one that was used as his Wanted poster, two other smaller ones from passports he he had faked. None of the men shared a single similarity.

On the split part of the screen was yet another man, blond with skin so white it seemed as if he'd never seen the sun. It was as far off from olive colored skin as possible but what gave him away was the man next to him with the bushy beard and unkempt hair - The Assassin, aka: Victor Galindez.

Webb grabbed a satellite phone and began to pace, barking in several orders with coordinates to areas Harm wasn't familiar with.

"What do we do, Webb?" He took over Clay's spot, his fingers clicking on the mouse as image after image painted a clearer picture that led Sadik to Mac. The man sat at a table set in a garden alongside The Assassin. There was a woman and a man, it was Mac and Farid.

Harm took a breath and let it out slowly, one eye was trained through the crosshairs of the scope attached to the sniper rifle he carried. His body lay prone, flattened against the terrain in a spot he never dared come close to. He was a mere twenty feet away from the walls that surrounded the estate, hunkered down at an area obscured by trees that the guards never, ever patrolled.

There was a little fanfare that evening, a helicopter had landed on the East end of the property and the men who were normally on the rooftop were repositioned to the front gate and the aircraft itself. He waited.

Despite the adrenaline running in his veins, he waited, often baiting his breath as he sought out Mac's balcony.

This had been his nightly reconnaissance, the hands on approach to mapping as much of the palatial home as possible. He was learning points of ingress, studying each guard like he would witness he needed to break.

Each night he would wait until Webb was asleep and then sneak out the bathroom window with a backpack full of equipment. He would take notes, pictures, memorise as much as possible while looking for the right area to enter the grounds.

The helicopter was a new development. One that had him tingling with such anticipation it took long, deep breaths to slow his racing heart. His skin felt warm with a crackle of energy like a live wire that pulled his focus away from the guards and towards a balcony on the West side. "Sarah. I'm here." He whispered, determined to get her out tonight. He would wait no longer.

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't." The voice from behind him crashed over Harm like a bucket of cold water. He took a breath and carefully crawled out of his spot, up the small hill to a large tree where Webb stood.

Harm noted the subtle shake of the director's hand, one holding a pair of binoculars which were trained on the helicopter. He looked utterly ridiculous wearing black BDUs and Harm couldn't help but roll his eyes. "You, Mr. Webb are in no physical condition to be here." He tapped the spy's cane with one finger, the one leaning against the tree.

"I can still aim and shoot, can't I?"

"Is that why you followed me? Back up? Because I sure as shit won't need your help unless your boys came with you to unleash the power of God down there."

Webb sighed. "You know we can't… You need to wait until we have enough information to make this a successful mission."

"Successful for who?"

"I want Sadik. As much as I want to save Sarah and believe me, I do...Sadik is priority one."

Sadik, it was all the man seemed to care about and Harm felt like he had crashed the party. What happened to atoning for what happened in Paraguay? Since arriving in Tehran, it was like Webb had flipped a switch and his obsession was like tunnel vision. "Why bring me with you then?"

"Because you would have fucked things up otherwise. I'm sorry, Harm, I don't want to do this but..." Webb pulled out a pistol from the small of his back and pointed it directly at the Commander. His eyes were cold and determined leaving little room for argument. "I want Sadik. If you go down there now and meddle he'll go so far underground we'll never see him again."

Harm cocked his head to the side, his eyes scanning Webb's weapon that he motioned to with one finger. "Jeez, Clay...All these years and you still haven't figured out how to switch off the safety?"

That trick shouldn't have worked, not with a man who had spent years in the field and had a broad knowledge of weapons. It was one second of hesitation from Webb, enough for a man with fighter pilot reflexes to pounce. One hand reached for Clay's wrist, the other pried the pistol easily out of the spy's hold.

Harm didn't give the man a chance to defend himself and simply used the pistol to render Webb conconcious. He dropped the limp body to the ground, dragged him behind heavy foliage and hurried back to his original vantage point.

The conversation with Webb hadn't changed much, if anything less guards patroled the grounds, most were busy protecting the main gate or the helicopter to notice the man in black that hoisted himself over the wall.

He dropped onto the ground, shouldering his back pack as he stayed low and ran behind a vine covered archway that made up the exterior of the garden. Even at night the grandeur was evident. Exotic plants and flowers adorned every corner and a large fountain sat in the middle, the water gurgling out of the top and pooling down three tiers.

From a pocket in his pants Harm produced Mac's note and the four words that led him to this very spot: West. Tunnel. Secret. Garden. The words made him search for the secret behind the flowers, fingers aimlessly pressed against stone and greenery but finding no passage into the home. Commotion outside had him squatting behind a thick potted plant, some of the guards were fighting, an unlikely diversion that helped him out of his hiding place.

It was the ground that led the way, a subtle dip, a change in the stone tiles and at the end a latticed wall covered in ivy. He searched through the vines finding a sort of latch that once triggered effortlessly opened a hidden door.

Harm stepped inside, keeping his body flat against the inner wall as he searched his backpack for a flashlight. Once he flicked it on, a low red beam shone through the stone walkway and he carefully made his way through the passage.

There were several points of egress, most of which had been sealed shut and were impossible to open. Tiny peep holes built into each former entrance allowed him to see into each room, none of which were currently occupied.

For stealth he dropped the sniper rifle and backpack into one corner, pulled out a double holster and slipped in a loaded 45mm in one sleeve, the other a tranquilizer gun. He wasn't planning on using a weapon for this mission, aiming to be as covert as possible. Get in. Get out. The guns were for precaution only although he itched to break down every door, guns-a-blazing until he found his wife.

The passage was not well kept, evident by the way the stoney ground crumbled beneath his boots and spider webs brushed against his body. Some parts were tight, forcing him to push his large frame between the walls. It felt like an eternity until he found the end.

Harm placed the butt of the flashlight in his mouth in order to free his hands to find a switch or latch. From the peephole he found it was a kitchen with two women standing over a large, metal sink. They spoke in Farsi, one of them laughing joyously until Harm stepped up behind with a pistol pressed to her head.

He raised a finger to his mouth, signaling that they should remain silent to which both women whimpered and nodded in understanding. "Nazanin? Where is she?"

The older woman motioned up to the ceiling. "She in room. Up. Come." She waved a hand at him and Harm followed when she crossed the kitchen and stopped at the bottom of stairs. "Up. Go."

He looked at the steps and then back at the woman who was nodding her head as if it would be safe for him to continue. Harm holstered the pistol, thanked the woman but only made it up two steps before a bullet whizzed past his head and struck the wall.

Harm glanced between the steps and door that led outside, a decision made for him when a barrage of bullets forced him to run. He tore open the kitchen door and took off on sprint occasionally squeezing off a round or two from his pistol hitting one man.

He may have reached the wall, may have scaled over and lived with an "I told you so" from Webb but his legs simply gave out. His toe caught an uneven paver, his body hurled to the ground rolling until it came to a stop. Harm may have been able to stand and continue running but a boot at his back pressed him into the ground.

His writhing body was dragged back to the home, the butt of a rifle slammed into his gut which made him drop to his knees. His head ached, his vision tunneled as he was taken up the steps and thrown into a living area where an impeccably dressed man stood.

"Farid." Harm said, knowing the man from the countless images he'd studied. The man was rather good looking, well kempt and oozed confidence as he stood. "We finally meet...Oof."

He didn't expect the blow to his gut, not from the man who was shorter and less bulkier. It made him laugh and straighten, the past few years with endless cycles of workouts had nearly turned him to granite. "Is that all you got? You're a fucking joke!"

"Hold him up." Farid commanded as he took off his jacket and wound up for another assault. This time his fist connected with Harm's face, hitting him right in the eye socket. "Every hit is for my wife...my sweet, sweet Nazanin that you defiled!"

The punches weren't hard just consistent. Over and over Farid struck eventually ordering the guards to bring his wife who walked in on the one-sided attack.

Farid expected his Nazanin to be pleased that the henious acts perpertrated on her were finally avenged. He expected gratitude, healing and a return to some sort of normalcy. Part of him believed it would be instant, like a switch would turn the woman he loved back to her formal self.

"He came for you, my love. I will destroy him for you." He struck again despite the blood and gore, the man that was now being held up by four guards because he could barely stand. But the greatful wife he thought he'd find was gone.

Instead the woman who stood by stared at her attacker with a look of familiarity and horror.

"Harm." Nazanin said the name on a gasp unable to stop the rush of emotions that flooded her very being when another blow from Farid had Harm yelling in pain. "Stop! Stop it!... I love him!"

English. She said the words in perfect English and any chances at keeping her cover were disimated at that very moment. Mac had hoped Farid hadn't noticed, there were a few tense seconds where it appeared he was calculating hitting Harm once again and his brain hadn't registered the new language.

He turned away for a moment, enough to wrap his bloodied knuckles with a handkerchief and used that same hand when he spun on her. The strike was sudden, the back of Farid's hand hitting Mac's arm because he missed her face. The blow still brought her crashing to the ground in a heap, an act that had Harm unsuccesfully fighting the guards hold.

"You son of a bitch! Don't touch her! Don't you dare touch her!" He yelled when Farid crouched down in front of Mac. The man glared icily between the pair and without warning pulled her up and pushed her onto one of the guards. "No. What are you doing? Where are you taking her?"

A reply came in the form of a pistol striking the side of his head. "Sarah…" He gasped out and then his body hit the floor.