Chapter 24
"–Mustang!"
The word suddenly broke through his walk and he stumbled back into reality. He opened his eyes and saw his captor for the first time. The one who had been torturing him up to now was not his captor. This was his captor and, for the first time, he expended the mental effort needed to identify him. For the first time in days, he was truly connected to reality.
He laughed. Breathlessly and painfully, but he still laughed. It wasn't even fake. It was incredulous.
"You..." he whispered. "I shouldn't be surprised...but I am."
"I know you, Carew. You never rely on a person's word. You always have evidence to back you up. What is it? Where have you hidden it?"
Again, he laughed. He should have realized that the Mustang region could come up again, but he could never have anticipated what had been done. Never. Killing Tamara was a huge step beyond what he would have thought to be a possibility.
He forced himself to sit up.
"You want to know?" he asked.
"Yes."
He forced himself to smile through the throbbing pain.
"Bite me. Better yet... bite yourself. That makes more sense than the original phrase anyway."
He fell back to the table, shaking.
"Can't keep it up. It'll kill him."
The voice was unconcerned.
"Fine. Take him back."
They forced him to drink some water and then, the strong hands lifted him off the table and dragged him back to his cell. They dropped him on the floor.
Funny how something that had happened years ago in a mostly-unknown region of the world could have become the impetus for murder, that a job could be an impetus for murder. He knew that it happened, but he himself had never understood it. He had kept his job only as long as he needed to. Then, he was done. Sure, it had taken thirty years, but he had still done only what he had felt was necessary. Need, not desire.
He lay there, thinking about what he now knew, thinking that it didn't really matter, but at the same time, it did because not even pain and grief could quite quash his innate interest in understanding things.
Then, finally, he took a breath and slowly exhaled. He closed his eyes.
...and went back to the farm.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim was sitting at his desk, stewing. He knew that was what he was doing. There was nothing productive going on right at this moment as far as he was concerned. Just stewing about what they still didn't know, what they hadn't done, what they might or might not find.
The question Gibbs had asked him was starting to grate on him.
What if Levi is already dead?
Tim hated the thought, but he had to acknowledge the possibility, whether he wanted to or not.
To distract himself from that, he forced himself to think about how bizarre it was that he did care about whether or not Levi had been killed. Given how he'd first come into close contact with him, Tim knew that it made no sense. ...unless you were willing to give people a chance to change. It had begun in Yemen, but with the benefit of hindsight and distance from the traumatic moments of his life, Tim could see that Levi had asked nothing of anyone that he wouldn't ask himself. He could be ruthless, but never wantonly cruel to those he used. He used them to the extent he needed to, no farther. Maybe it was a damning with faint praise, but Tim could appreciate the effort that Levi had put into everything he had done. He had been upfront and honest about what he had wanted and what he would give back when Tim had been unable to speak. ...and he had kept Tim from going too far.
"Tim?"
Tim sat up and saw Jimmy looking at him with some concern.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Just...fretting," Tim said, smiling a little. "What's up?"
"Well, Ducky wanted to give you our analysis of Logan."
"Oh! Great." Tim stood up and followed Jimmy to the elevator.
They got on and it started to descend.
Tim was surprised when Jimmy suddenly reached out and stopped it.
No, not surprised. Tim was shocked. So few people dared stop the elevator that Jimmy wasn't even on the list of people who would do it or even think about doing it. Even he himself would only dare do it in a major emergency.
"What's going on, Jimmy?"
"Are you really okay, Tim?" Jimmy asked. "Because you don't look like you're okay, and I know I've been on the outside edge of all this stuff that's gone on, but I've watched you, and you're not acting like you're really okay. Something about this is really getting to you, and I feel like you shouldn't hide it."
Tim raised an eyebrow. It was true that Jimmy really hadn't been in on much of what he'd gone through, but he was very observant. Too observant in this case.
"And you can't even say that talking about it won't help," Jimmy said, almost reading Tim's mind. "You know that talking does help."
"Did Ducky put you up to this?"
"No. He doesn't know I'm doing it. Come on, Tim. You know I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to." He smiled. "People don't usually listen to me, anyway."
Tim smiled. "I know you wouldn't."
"Then, what is it?"
It's a lot of things, Jimmy," Tim said, finally. "It's not just one terrible thing. It's a lot of little things piling up. It's fine."
"No, it's not! Usually, you tell someone, but because you know how people feel, you're not telling anyone and that's not a good thing."
"How do you feel about all this, then?" Tim asked. "You're on the outside, how do you feel about what I want to do?"
"You want to save someone. I'm fine with it," Jimmy said without any pause. "I know that Carew's done a lot to you and for you. The way I see it is that, if you don't want to hold that against him, I don't think the rest of us have any right to, either."
Tim smiled ruefully. "I wish the others felt that way, but they don't."
"So what is it, then?" Jimmy asked.
"If Levi is still alive, then, I can imagine what they're doing to him, and it makes me sick to my stomach. Daniel is helping me, but he's got the same kinds of feelings I do. He knows how it feels to be at the mercy of someone else and I hate that this is putting him in that situation, even though I know he won't accept being left out of it. I'm afraid of feeling the same way Daniel does again, and I don't want that. And I'm afraid that we'll end up finding him dead and I'll have to tell Tamara...that I couldn't save him."
Jimmy was silent for a few seconds. Then, he cocked his head to the side.
"Those don't sound like little things to me," he said. "Those are big things, Tim. Why hide them?"
"I'm not hiding them from everyone, but I'm not really talking about them, either."
"You should."
Tim shook his head.
"No. Not about this. There are things I just can't talk about with the others. They won't be able to hear me over what they're thinking...over what they're saying. I've told Zahara and I've talked about it some with Dr. Hicks."
"Well, you know that Dr. Mallard doesn't mind, and I don't either."
"Thanks, Jimmy."
"You're welcome, and Breena really does want you guys to come over."
"We will. When this is over. I promise." The idea of doing something so simple as having dinner with the Palmers was extremely appealing in fact.
Jimmy nodded and turned the elevator back on. They rode down to Autopsy, but Tim's mind was only half on what Ducky might have to say. He was looking at Jimmy through entirely new eyes. With all the things that had happened in his life over the last...decade, Tim had to admit that, far too often, Jimmy had barely even existed for him. He had appeared and disappeared without any fanfare as the chaos that so often ruled Tim's life had taken over. The last couple of years had seen things change, but even that was seeing Jimmy outside of work, not really as someone who could be a part of all this. He had badly misjudged Jimmy and that was something that should change.
If I can see Levi in a different way, seeing Jimmy differently shouldn't be hard at all, Tim thought to him and smiled a little.
He said nothing aloud, but it was still on his mind as they walked into Autopsy.
"Ah, good," Ducky said. "I was hoping that there wouldn't me a long delay. While I cannot guarantee that I am correct in my findings..."
"I know that," Tim said, quickly. "I've read the CIA file, too."
"Very well. There is one area in which I completely disagree with the CIA."
"Oh, really?" Tim asked. He perched on the edge of an autopsy table. "What is it?"
"They describe him as cold and calculating. Calculating, yes. I see nothing to lessen this man's intelligence, but I don't believe that Logan's actions are cold. I see them as being the result of something burning at a very high temperature inside him. Figuratively speaking, of course."
"Of course."
"This is not something he simply decided to do. This is something he wanted to do. Logan enjoys what he's doing too much for it be something cold. While his approach to his employment might be cold, his actual actions are not."
Tim nodded.
"Do you agree that Logan would be willing to play the mercenary, then?"
"Yes. I believe that, whatever is guiding his actions, acting as a mercenary would feed that need, that emotional goad. And, if this man is involved, I don't think you'll be able to predict his actions. One of the things that made me feel that this is not something he is coldly choosing is the description of some of the things he's done in the past. Some did seem cold, but others did not. That tells me that he wears the mask of whatever he wants to portray. You will not know what course he chooses until he chooses it. Likely he himself won't know until in that moment. You must be ready for anything, never forgetting that he's a very dangerous enemy."
Tim nodded again and took a breath.
"Do you think Levi is still alive?" he asked.
"If it were Logan in charge? No. I think he would have tired of the game already and simply killed him. A game is only good with the ultimate triumph at the end. He would play with his prey, but he would want to win in the end. But since you think that someone else is calling the shots, be it Jorgenson or someone else, I think you're safe in assuming that he is."
"I hope I'm right."
"As do I," Ducky said, "for your sake if nothing else."
Tim smiled. "Thanks, Ducky."
"You're welcome. Now, how are you doing?"
"I'm worried, but I'm okay."
Then, his phone rang. He looked at the number and his eyes widened.
"I have to take this, Ducky. Sorry."
"Very well. Go on, lad."
"Thanks again."
Tim answered his phone as he hurried out of Autopsy.
"Yes?"
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Janell stared at him for a long moment. Then, she stood aside silently. Daniel walked inside and followed Janell into a small living room.
"Have a seat," she said. "You're lucky you caught me at home. I only work from home a couple of days a week. And I don't work for the CIA. I've been out for years."
"I know that."
"I work for the FAA now. There's nothing classified about my work," Janell said.
"I know that, too," Daniel said. "I'm not here about your work now."
"Then, why are you here?"
"Marc Logan."
There was both surprise and caution. No doubt she knew something about what he had done, whether she knew details or not.
"Why?"
"I've heard that you two were in a relationship. Is that true?"
"Why?" she asked again. "I wasn't even in the CIA when he...went rogue."
"Just answer the question, Ms. Riggins. You know how this works."
There was a pause where she was staring at him, trying to decide whether or not to push it. Daniel didn't give an inch. Then, she sighed.
"Puri," she said.
"What?"
"My last name. It's Puri. I got married two years ago. That's what gave you away."
"And still living in the same house?"
"Yes," she said, with a slight smile, revealing nothing.
"You dated Logan," Daniel said.
"Yes. We dated for about a year."
"And? You know what I need to know."
"I know. We were exclusive. We were serious. But we both were agents and while there was no rule against it, the whole idea was just not something we wanted to advertise. We never showed anything at work, but it must have got around. These things do."
"Why did you break up?"
"As far as I'm concerned, we just grew apart. There was no malice on my side and Marc said there was none on his side."
"Who initiated it?"
"I did. That's when I quit, actually."
"Why? Were you afraid of him?"
Janell shook her head. "No. I wasn't. I just thought it would be awkward for us to see each other. I'd been thinking about moving on anyway and this was just the impetus I needed to get out."
"How did he take it?"
"He took it fine. In fact, he even suggested that there was no need for me to quit, that we'd be able to work together still. I think we both could see the writing on the wall. There was no fighting. There was no passion. That was the problem. So we broke up. I got a new job and I haven't seen him since. I never had any indication that he was unhinged. He never seemed that way to me. Not even a hint. I can't even look back and say I see something now. Nothing. I can't help you that way."
Daniel smiled a little. "What about a location?"
"I don't know where he is," Janell said. "If I knew, I'd tell you. I promise."
"That's not what I mean. Were there places you two went? If you tried to keep it a secret from the CIA, where did you go to be together?"
"We went on dates. Lots of places. We were dating for a year."
"Was there any place he took you often, somewhere that was significant for him? Maybe a family cabin or something like that?"
"I don't know... It's been years. I'm married. I don't think about old boyfriends."
"Just think about it now. If there wasn't anything, fine. I'll be on my way. If there was, I need to know."
Janell sat back and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. Some of her training had worn off, but there was still some of it left. Analysis.
"There was a place we went to a few times. I wouldn't say it was often, but enough that I remember it. It was somewhere in southern Virginia. I really don't remember where exactly. It was a pretty big house. He said it had belonged to his family for generations but he was the only one left and so he used it any time he wanted to. It was isolated. We went there to be together on a long weekend or a vacation."
"Southern Virginia?"
"Yes. That's the best I can do to tell you where it was."
"Large house?"
"Pretty big. Two floors. I think there was a basement. Mostly for storage. I don't think there was any actual living space down there. But keep in mind that I'm pulling this from quite a while back and it's stuff that had no significance for me."
"I know. Anything else you can tell me?"
"No, but you won't tell Marc that I told you this, right? I mean, I was never scared of him, but with what I heard afterward..."
"I don't have any plans to let him in on what you told me," Daniel said, thinking grimly of how he hoped this would all end.
"Thank you. I know you can't tell me anything, but was this helpful?"
"I think so."
"Good luck," Janell said and stood up.
Daniel followed the not-so-subtle indication that the meeting was over. Janell led him to the door and he left. Ready to report on information, even if it didn't give them an exact location.
