Chapter 33

To say the ride on the submersible was tense was an understatement. With Raynor pointing a gun at the pilot the entire time, they sat in uneasy silence, their drenched clothes dripping sporadically onto the floor. Frankie waited for something to shoot them out of the water, but it never came.

"Why aren't they shooting at us?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't know," Raynor replied.

The pilot snorted.

"Do you have something to say?" Raynor asked.

"Stealth technology," he answered shortly.

Well, that explained it, Frankie thought.

"Where are we going?" she asked the pilot.

Silence.

Frankie shot Raynor a meaningful look.

The psychiatrist poked the man with the gun, "answer the question."

He still didn't answer.

Raynor frowned, "can comms go out while you're running in stealth mode?"

"Yeah," he replied after a slight hesitation.

"Contact the command center," she directed. "Ask for the commander. I'm sick of this already."

The pilot keyed the mic, "HS-7 to Base."

There was a crackle over the speakers, then a male voice answered, "Go ahead HS-7."

"We have a situation here. I need to speak to the commander."

"That's a negative, HS-7. All communications go through the head of security."

"Where's a mic?" Raynor demanded, sliding into the seat beside the pilot. At his indication, she keyed it. "This is Dr. Christina Raynor, Security Code Bravo-Echo-Nine-Three-Eight-Theta. Confirm."

There was a short pause. "Confirmed. What do you require, Doctor?"

"I need to speak to the commander, now," she snapped.

"Stand by, Doctor."

Frankie and the pilot stared at Raynor. "You out-rank Glenda?" she asked.

Raynor shook her head, "no, but I report directly to the commander, not her. You can say all you want about Hydra, but they are sticklers for chain of command."

"Thank god for that."

The speaker crackled and Rory's voice came through, "Dr. Raynor, report."

"Commander, the extraction was botched, and we had to improvise."

"We?"

"I have Frankie with me."

"Good to hear," his voice sounded like he was reading a grocery list. "We will debrief you're your return. What do you require?"

"I need you to tell the pilot to cooperate. His orders came from Ms. Jones and did not include us."

"I see," Rory answered. "Pilot? Identify yourself."

"Senior Submersible Pilot Henry James, Commander Sir," he stammered.

"Mr. James, you will convey Dr. Raynor and Ms. Cabrini to the rendezvous coordinates I'm having transmitted."

"Acknowledged, Commander."

"Base out."

They sat for a few seconds before the pilot looked at Raynor, "can I have my gun back now?"

When the doctor looked as if she was going to hand it over, Frankie caught her eye and gave a slight shake of her head.

"I think I'll hold onto it for a while longer if you don't mind. I don't want to have to go through this again."

When he started to protest, she stopped him, "I will give it back when we arrive safely at the base."

Not looking happy at her answer, he slumped back in his seat.


Despite their misgivings, the next hand-off went smoothly. The submersible surfaced in a private boathouse and two agents greeted the women respectfully and escorted them to a waiting SUV. From there, they were driven to a private airfield and flown via helicopter to another private helipad. After that, it was only a two-hour drive, without a blindfold this time, to the underground facility. Frankie paid close attention to the drive; certain she could at least find her way back from the airfield if needed.

Rory was there to meet them when they stepped off the elevator. Wrapping Frankie in a tight hug, he told her, "I thought I had lost you."

"Never," she hugged him back. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," he kissed her on the forehead before releasing her and taking a step back. "Doctor, I cannot thank you enough for getting Frankie back safely."

"I'm just glad we were able to get out of there in one piece after the screw up by your head of security," she replied with a frown.

"Yes, I will have to take care of that," Rory told her. "I'll debrief you later today. Thank you again, Doctor."

She nodded at what was clearly a dismissal, "I'll be ready." Turning towards Frankie, she said, "I think we should continue our sessions."

Frankie agreed. They had made a lot of head way, but there were still shadows lurking in the far corners of her mind that needed to have the light shown on them.

"Absolutely," Rory answered for her, putting a protective arm around her shoulders. "We both want what's best for her."

Frankie nodded and watched as Raynor walked away, leaving her alone with Rory.

"Come on," Rory turned her away from the departing doctor, "I'm sure you're tired. Let's go to our rooms and you can tell me what happened."


Back at the rooms they shared, Rory continued his unsettling solicitous treatment of Frankie. He insisted on getting her something to eat and drink and settled her on the couch before he would hear anything about her time away. By the time he gave her his full attention, she was on the verge of screaming.

That urge evaporated as she began to tell him about getting caught at the pentagon, her time in prison and at the SHIELD compound, and Glenda's attempts on her life. As she spoke, Rory became increasingly agitated, until he sprung up from the couch and began pacing.

"You know for sure Glenda was behind both attempts on your life?"

"Well, the first attempt was by Hydra prisoners."

"They said they were Hydra?"

"Yep, approached me and everything. But you had sent me the note that said to keep my head down, and that's what I did."

"Huh," Rory stopped his pacing. "I'm not aware of any Hydra operatives in prison. You know SHIELD had a special prison just for their high-risk prisoners, right?"

"Yeah, the Raft," she answered. "But would they send every Hydra operative there?"

"Frankie, Darling," he smiled down at her, "we take care of our own, no matter how low on the ladder they are. We are family and we don't leave family behind."

She nodded like it made perfect sense to her, but something about his proclamation rang false.

"But that woman at the compound, Izzy? I know I've seen her here. And she said, 'Glenda says hi' right before she tried to shoot me."

He stopped his pacing and sat down beside her again, looking tired, "I know she was working against me, but I never imagined she would go this far."

Frankie took his hands in hers, turning sideways to face him, "she's dangerous, Rory. I'm worried about you."

He chuckled as he pulled her over into his lap. Pushing her shirt up to expose her scars across her midriff, he ran his hands over them, feeling their still rough edges. Frankie shifted uncomfortably; this new level of intimacy that Rory wanted between them still didn't feel right to her.

"You're nearly killed twice and yet you're still worried more about me than your own wellbeing," he shook his head. "You are truly amazing, Frankie. It's no wonder I love you so much."

"I love you too, Rory." She meant it, just not the same way he did. "I thought I lost you before and I really don't want to lose you now. This place is dangerous, can't you see that? Hydra isn't what you think it is. It isn't about saving the world. It's about dominating the world by any means necessary. Glenda isn't an outlier. She's the norm. I need you to see that."

Rory stiffened under her slightly, then smiled condescendingly, "I see you've been listening to SHIELD. Surely, you're smart enough to see through their façade?"

She shook her head, "even if it's a line of shit, how is it any different than what Hydra's doing?"

He stood abruptly, almost dumping her on the floor, "are you listening to yourself, Frankie? How are we any different? First, we don't have an army of enhanced people doing our dirty work for us." He started pacing. "Are we heavy handed at time? Do we use excessive force?" He spun to face her, his face hard, "of course we do! How else are we supposed to fight against such power?"

Before she could respond, he continued his rant, "and now they have SWORD. Between the two, they're going to have this planet so locked down, nobody will be able to voice a dissenting opinion. All advanced technology will be controlled by them. All contact with galactic civilizations will be through them. They'll have us in a stranglehold."

He stopped his pacing and strode to where she stood in shocked silence. His eyes gleamed with a fanatical rage. "That is why they must be destroyed. Every one of them. And if we have to break a few eggs to get it done, then so be it." He gripped Frankie's shoulders tightly and lowered his voice, "you are either with us or against us, Frankie. It's time to decide. There is no neutral ground in this war. Are you with me?"

Frankie tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry, and her heart ached.

"I'm with you, always," she managed.

Rory pulled her to him and brought his mouth down on hers hard, bruising her lips as he ravished her mouth. All Frankie could do was cling to him as her heart broke.


Later that night, Frankie crawled out of bed, careful not to disturb Rory. Closing the bathroom door before turning on the light, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The woman that looked back at her was a far cry from the exotic dancer she had been just a few months ago. In addition to the scars that marred her smooth skin, she had shed several pounds and was almost gaunt, hip and rib bones barely concealed under skin stretched taunt over them. Her face had aged as well, making her look almost a decade older.

Now she bore bruises from Rory's love making. Handprints encircling her arms and dark red and purple spots on her neck and breasts from his mouth. She had tried to respond to his touches, but the more she tried the less turned on she became. Her lack of response did not go unnoticed by Rory, and as he grew increasingly frustrated, he became rougher.

It wasn't the pain of sex that hurt her. The soreness that lingered would eventually fade. No, it was the helplessness of the situation that hurt. She was trapped in a web of her love and guilt and didn't know how to extract herself. She had gone to prison and betrayed SHIELD all based on the hope of saving him. Saving Rory from Hydra was no longer an option, she saw that now. She was years too late. He was wholly committed to the organization and she wouldn't be able to get him to leave even if she found a way out for him. The boy she had raised and loved was gone.

She turned on the shower as hot as she could stand, and stood under the spray, letting it sooth the aches of her body. As it pounded down on her, tears started and once they began, it was like a damn had broken. Frankie slid down the wall to sit on the shower floor. With her arms wrapped around her legs, she sobbed, letting the shower drown out the sound. She cried for the boy that she had lost until there were no more tears left.

When the shower became tepid, she stood and turned it off. Wrapping a soft towel around her, she stood in front of the mirror again. Wiping the condensation off so she could see her face, a different woman looked back at her this time. Determination had replaced hopelessness.

She might not be able to save Rory from Hydra, but she damn well could save him from that bitch, Glenda. It would be the one last gift she could give him before she escaped and disappeared from his life again.