Chapter 9
May 23, 2006
0547 Local
Sarah MacKenzie was sleeping the sleep of the dead. It had been months since she'd been able to rest so thoroughly. When she heard it, very faint and far off, she just retreated farther into REM sleep, letting her subconscious dream up illogical explanations for the out of place buzzing noise. When the earth began moving beneath her as well, she couldn't deny reality any longer.
Coming out of her slumber in stages, she first realized that she was sprawled face down across Harm's chest…a lovely way to wake up at any hour…and that it was he, and not the earth, that was stirring. Next, she became aware of the fact that the buzzing was coming from somewhere behind her. Harm's cell phone on the night stand, the small, alert part of her brain supplied to the more sluggish dominant side. She felt herself being shifted onto her back as Harm rolled toward the source of the persistent sound.
"Wazgoinon," she finally slurred, eyes still stubbornly closed, when she felt Harm stretch across her body to reach out for his phone.
"Dunno," he mumbled before flipping the phone open. "H'lo?"
Mac heard the chatter coming for the other side of the wireless connection, but she couldn't make out words, so she lay patiently, waiting for Harm to finish up so she could slip back into unconsciousness.
"What?" Harm sat up abruptly, taking the blanket with him and leaving Mac both chilled and spooked. She snapped her eyes open and watched as he turned away from her to swing his feet onto the hotel's tacky green carpet. Reaching down, she grabbed the sheet that had fallen to the side and pulled it up and around her body for warmth as she sat up behind him. She rested her hand on his shoulder. The muscles there, relaxed in sleep just seconds ago, were tight as steel. His whole demeanor radiated tension.
"Harm, who is it," she asked in a more lucid voice. She heard him suck in a breath and her fingers flexed, the tips pressing into his skin.
"So everyone's…" he was cut off by the chattering voice on the other end. Whatever the voice said must have been what Harm was hoping to hear, because Mac immediately felt his shoulder muscles loosen up. "Okay, we'll be there ASAP." He flipped the phone shut and jumped out of bed.
"Someone broke into Francesca's place," he explained quickly as he grabbed his boxers off the floor and pulled them on, his head swiveling around, looking for the rest of his clothing. "That was Webb, he's there now. The place is trashed; they tore up everything, but Albina and the baby are fine." He looked up at her, his jeans on and unbuttoned and his shirt hanging from his hand.
Mac was still sitting on the bed with the sheet wrapped around herself. She gripped it tightly in her fist, trying to force herself to react to what Harm was telling her. She was sure she was just dreaming. It was just another illogical explanation to the buzzing noise she'd heard. Only, she knew that wasn't right. The slamming of her heart told her she was definitely awake right now.
Suddenly Harm was there, sitting on the side of the mattress and taking her hand. Mac started slightly. She hadn't remembered him walking around to this side of the bed, or putting on his shirt for that matter. "Hey," he smiled at her reassuringly, "she's okay Mac. Sophie's perfectly fine."
Mac nodded. "Yeah," she replied, her voice sounding hoarse, so she cleared her throat. "Yeah, we need to get over there," looking dazed, she began swinging her head around trying to locate her underwear.
Once, dressed Harm guided her to the car with a hand on her arm. She was silent on the cab ride to Francesca's, staring out the window at the city's nightlife. She was numb, could barely feel Harm's hand wrapped around her own. She felt herself slipping into self-preservation mode, and couldn't, or wouldn't, do anything to prevent it. She knew logically that the baby was fine. Harm wouldn't have lied to her about that, and Webb certainly wouldn't lie to him. Harm would kick his ass. Mac's lips turned up slightly at the thought. Still, her heart refused to let her relax until she saw with her own eyes that everything was okay.
Turning the corner, Mac expected to see the usual bedlam that accompanied a crime scene; police cars, red and blue lights flashing, yellow crime scene tape, crowds of morbidly curious civilians and troublesome reporters.
Nothing. From the outside of the building, you couldn't tell that anything was amiss. Brow furrowing in confusion, she turned to Harm. "I realize we aren't in the states, and things are probably done differently here, but where is everybody? Are we even at the right place?"
As if on cue, the front doors of the building opened and Clayton Webb exited briskly, waving at them with one hand while the second held his phone to his ear. Harm helped Mac out of the back of the cab and paid the driver before they headed over to the agent.
"What's going on Webb?" Mac asked immediately.
Webb snapped his cell shut, ushering them into the double doors and through the lobby toward the elevators. "Albina called me about an hour ago, saying that three men had broken into the apartment, held her at gun point and ransacked the place.
"Did they say who they were or what they were looking for?" Harm asked, concerned, as he hit the button for the top floor.
"No, she said that they pointed a gun at her, told her to keep the baby quiet, and locked them both in the nursery. She waited until she was sure they were gone, used her keys to unlock the door, and called me."
"Not the police?" Mac asked, trying to force her professional mask into place, despite the fact that she felt like a terrified mother just below the surface.
Webb shrugged. "I told her to call me if anything came up. I was thinking maybe she might come across something while packing. Apparently she thought that this situation also applied," he preceded Harm and Mac out of the elevator. "Frankly, I'm relieved she didn't contact the authorities first. I hate fighting over jurisdiction when I don't have home court advantage."
Upon entering the apartment, it finally became obvious a crime had, in fact, been perpetrated. There were about half a dozen or so people scurrying around at a frantic pace. The peaceful livingroom in which Mac had felt so relaxed only hours ago, where she had bonded with her new baby daughter, was now mercilessly demolished. Everything had been shattered beyond repair, making it impossible to avoid walking on the broken pieces of Francsesca's home. The furniture was gutted, stuffing pulled out and throw violently around the room. Glass littered the floor, crunching loudly with every step Mac took. Not a single picture frame or lamp had been spared.
Steadying her subtly when she stumbled over pieces of what used to be a beautiful coffee table, Harm pulled her deeper into the devastation. She couldn't help but flinch as they rounded into the diningroom and kitchen area. Everything had been pulled from the cupboards and thrown to the floor. If possible, there was even more broken glass in here than in the livingroom; plates, bowls and glasses smashed carelessly from one end of the kitchen to the other. The refrigerator had been emptied as well, covering the tiled floor with spilled milk, wine, and what looked like orange juice. There was also a sour, tangy smell in the air that Mac couldn't quite place.
More men and women were bustling through this room; and a small group was huddled over a computer monitor placed on the diningroom table, the only piece of furniture that had been spared as far as Mac could tell. Her eyes focused on one of Sophie's bottles, tossed haphazardly aside, a fraction of an inch from tumbling off the counter and into the puddle of formula on the soiled floor below. She watched as the last of the milky white substance continued to trickle from the bottle and down the side of the cabinet door.
Mac was vaguely aware of Webb introducing Harm to two of the agents at the table. It was then that she realized that, since stepping into the apartment, she hadn't really registered anything anyone had said. In fact, with the exception of the cacophony of glass grating against glass as she walked, sound was nothing more than a distant buzzing, not unlike the noise that woke her up barely half an hour ago.
Still feeling uncharacteristically dazed, she took two steps toward the table of men when her foot kicked something hard. Looking down, she watched as an empty pickle jar rolled away from her and across the hard floor. She was surprised at how it reverberated in her own ears when everything else seemed so muffled.
'Pickles, that's what that funny smell is' she thought idly as the jar came to rest where tile floor met carpet. 'Probably the only thing left unbroken in the whole place.'
"Mac?" Harm's concerned voice finally broke through her self-procured bubble of silence. Suddenly the air around her crackled with energy, all the voices now louder and more urgent. She looked around at the activity, feeling slightly discombobulated. Then she caught her fiancé's worried eyes. Suddenly her world righted itself. She almost heard the 'whoosh' as everything came crashing back into focus, and suddenly she felt like Marine Colonel MacKenzie again. It would forever amaze her how everything just seemed to snapped back into place with one glance, one word, from Harm.
"I'm okay," she assured him with a small smile. Before he could question her further, a distinctly unhappy cry cut through the air. Eyes wide, Mac's head pivoted sharply toward the source of the sound, then turned back to Harm.
"Harm…"
"Go on," he nodded to her in understanding, seemingly reading her mind. What she needed right then was to hold Sophie. He leaned forward and caught her upper arm lightly, kissing her quickly on the cheek, and whispered, "I'll be in in a minute."
"Albina and the baby are in the nursery, Sarah," Webb offered as she began backing out of the room. Throwing Clay a quick 'thank you' Mac was headed back through the livingroom, trying to ignore the damage that her mind would not soon let her forget. Instead, she focused on Sophie's cries, following the noise like a beacon.
She was practically running by the time she rounded the doorway leading into the baby's room. It was quite a contrast from what she'd just left behind. Nothing had been touched or disturbed in this room. The walls were a pale shade of yellow with a pink floral wallpaper border around the top. A white crib with the infamous Beyond the Sea mobile was set against the left wall, with plush letters spelling out 'Sophia' in soft colors arched above it. There was a changing table next to the door where Mac stood, and the smell of baby lotion and diaper rash cream was oddly comforting and calming to her senses.
Albina was standing with her back to Mac, off to the right by the pink, yellow, and green curtained window. A chest of draws was positioned on the wall next to her. It was white like the rest of the furniture, but with pink and green rosebud knobs attached. The only light in the room was coming from a small lamp centered on top. The portly housekeeper was whispering in Italian, trying to sooth the wailing infant.
"Sono ragazza spiacente e piccola.. Cosi spiacente."
"Albina?" Mac kept her voice low despite the volume of Sophie's cries. Turning quickly, the little old Italian woman smiled in recognition.
"Oh, look Miss Sophia, itsa Mama." Albina shuffled over to Mac and eagerly handed the squalling little girl over.
Mac's eyes went wide as the baby was deposited into her arms. Sophie's face was blood red; her eyes clenched shut with her efforts to make more noise than should be humanly possible for one so small. Her fists were flying out in all directions, as if she just wanted to hit something, anything, and her feet were kicking frantically inside her mint green sleeper.
"What's wrong with her?" Mac turned her wide eyes from the baby's angry face to Albina's sympathetic eyes and back again. She was calling on every scrap of her military training not to panic on the spot. She had been so sure she was ready for this, but she and Harm had been confronted with their first crisis as parents this morning and so far, she was falling apart like a first year recruit who couldn't cut boot camp. Struggling to hold on to the squirming bundle of joy, Mac began pacing and bouncing, something that always calmed little AJ down as an infant.
Albina began walking around the room, straightening up the changing table and folding blankets.
"Baby not hungry, not dirty, I think she justa upset," the housekeeper paused as she walked by the marine with the deer-in-the-headlights look and the baby who was now beginning arch her back with each scream. Smoothing Sophie's damp hair back from her forehead, Albina shook her head sorrowfully. "Poor little angel." Then she looked back up at Mac and patted her arm, "I go make bottle justa in case."
And just like that, Mac found herself standing alone in the middle of a sparsely lit nursery, barely keeping her grasp on a very unhappy, screaming baby. 'How the hell did this happen?' she wondered off handedly as she positioned Sophie up onto her shoulder, thus decreasing the chances of dropping the wiggling little siren.
"Shhh, baby, I know. I know. Mommy's here now, it's all over. Shhh..." Sophie continued to cry on Mac shoulder. Her face, wet with tears, was sticking to the side of Mac's neck. The poor little thing was too tired and upset to even try to lift her own head up. Mac began pacing around the room humming nonsense, her hand rubbing calming circles across Sophie's back, from neck to bottom.
"Baby girl, you're gonna have to help me out here. You've been at this mother-daughter stuff a few weeks longer than me."
It took the longest four minutes and twenty-eight seconds of Mac's life, but Sophie's screams finally started to settle into pitiful cries. They were just as heartbreaking to Mac, but not as ear piercing to those throughout the rest of the home.
"That's it Sophie, everything's okay, Mommy's got you." Before she was even aware of what she was doing, Mac began to sing softly, her mouth right next to her daughter's tiny ear.
'I once loved a sailor, once a sailor loved me
But he was not a sailor who sailed on the wide blue sea
He sailed in an airship, sailed like a bird on a wing
And every evening at midnight he would come to my window and sing...
Come take a trip in my airship, come sail away to the stars
We'll travel to Venus, We'll sail away to Mars
No one will see while we're kissing, no one will know as we swoon
So come take a trip in my airship and we'll visit the man in the moon.'
As Mac continued to sing, Sophie's struggles lessened. By the end of the song, the baby was sleeping fitfully, her breath still occasionally catching, expelling a little whimper from her slackened mouth. Mac silently treasured the warm puffs of air against her neck.
She sighed deeply, inhaling the baby powder smell from Sophie's head, allowing the feel and smell of her daughter to sooth her frayed nerves. Now that the baby crying crisis had passed, Mac let herself just hold her little one close. She'd been scared to death since the phone call earlier from Webb, and now that Sophie was safe in her arms, she could finally relax. Sinking into the rocking chair in front of the window, she leaned back and closed her eyes, one hand holding the baby under her butt, and the other pressing lightly on the back of her delicate head.
"Hey," she heard Harm's quiet voice from the doorway. She smiled without moving her head or opening her eyes.
"Somehow I knew you were standing there," Mac peeked at him through one cracked eyelid. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to have heard you're fun little sailor song," he teased her as he made his way into the room. "You seemed to be doing fine on your own. I didn't want to interrupt."
"Chicken," she accused as she stood up and met him half way.
"Seriously though," he said with a gleam in his eye as he stroked Sophie's soft hair, "cute song."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied stubbornly. The blush on her cheeks told another story.
Harm arched his eyebrow at her and 'hmph'ed before turning his attention back to little Sophie. "She okay?" he asked looking her over as well as he could with her tiny body curled up into a ball on Mac's shoulder. Her poor little face was stained with red blotches and damp from her tears. Her tiny hands had yet to relax, still clenched tightly into fists.
"She will be," Mac reassured him. "She could probably sense something was wrong. It must have scared her." Mac swayed back and forth, resuming the soft circles on the baby's back.
"Yeah," Harm agreed. "She just needed her mommy."
Mac looked up at Harm and smiled sweetly, tilting her head to brush her cheek against Sophie's hair.
"You look beautiful with her," he whispered as he lowered his lips for a kiss.
Mac pulled back just centimeters before contact was made. "Just with her?" she asked, her eyebrow arching slightly.
"Well," Harm screwed up his face on the pretense of thinking it over, "I guess your not so bad by yourself either." He smiled, as he leaned back in for his kiss.
"Huh," she replied, an enticing grin playing across her mouth, "that's not what you said last night, Flyboy." Her eyes locked onto his lips as they drifted closer. This time, she accepted the kiss, which was soft and gentle and smoldering all at the same time.
"Ahem."
Harm and Mac reluctantly broke apart as Webb sauntered into the room.
"Well, my people have just about finished up here. The clean up crew is going to come in and do what they can, which probably won't be much," Webb stood just inside the doorway with his hands in his pockets, casually studying the family in front of him. "Albina is going to stay at a hotel until her trip back to Palermo."
"Palermo?" Mac questioned as she handed the sleeping baby over to Harm, giving her arms a rest.
"I didn't realize that Albina lived so far. That's quite a trip. She's not driving is she?"
"No," Webb shook his head, his eyes following her as she sat back down in the rocking chair. "I believe she's flying out the day after tomorrow. She's been in contact with her sister, so I'm assuming they have made arrangements for her once she lands."
"Just as long as she's taken care of," Mac said as she watched Harm gaze contently at the infant in his arms. They really owed the older woman for protecting Sophie during the attack on Francesca's home.
"Well, can I assume also that the two of you will be staying here the rest of the morning?" Webb raised an amused eyebrow at the silly grin on Harm's face. All of the new father's attention was currently focused on his daughter.
"The lawyer is due to arrive here around noon, and the movers will be here sometime this afternoon to pack up Sophie's things and ship them out," Harm answered, his eyes still trained on Sophie. "Once we get them started, though, we'll probably head out for the night. Our flight is scheduled for tomorrow morning."
At the mention of going home, Harm briefly looked up and made eye contact with his fiancée. Mac returned his intense gaze until he broke the connection and turned his attention back to the sleeping child cradled in his arms. Her focus, however, did not waiver. The morning sun was beginning to peek through the nursery window, casting its warm, orangish light across father and daughter. They portrayed an almost divine image. Mac gave a sappy sigh then blushed heavily when she realized Webb had heard it. He raised an eyebrow and gave her a good-humored smirk and a wink.
"Well, I'm headed out to see what we've got on this mess. I'm delaying my return to the states for at least another day. I'll call you later this morning, Rabb, and let you know what we've got. Sarah," he gave a small bow of his head, and then he was gone.
"Well," Harm turned to face Mac after Webb disappeared from sight, "we should probably go ahead and get her packed up; so once we leave this afternoon, we don't have to come back." He began wandering around the nursery with Sophie still snuggled in his embrace, mentally categorizing everything that would need to go with them, and that which the movers would send straight through to La Jolla.
"What do Webb and company have so far?" Mac asked as her eyes followed his slow trip around the bedroom. She was more concerned with the latest on the investigation than anything else at the moment. 'Well, anything but Sophie,' she corrected herself.
"Not much so far," he tossed over his shoulder as he continued circling the nursery. He opened the closet door and stuck his head inside as Mac watched on in begrudged amusement. As fun as it was to witness him slipping into the roll of daddy and husband, she needed him to focus for a moment.
After a minute and a half, it became obvious to Mac that the fascinating contents of the baby's closet had distracted him from her own fact-finding mission. "Harm, snap to," she demanded, though not sharply as the words themselves would imply.
"Huh? Oh, sorry," Harm's pulled his head out of the closet and turned back toward Mac, clearing his throat. "The surveillance cameras at the back entrance were cut. How the security in a place like this missed something that significant is..." he trailed off, shaking his head before continuing. "They did get a description from a cabbie who saw a young male, mid twenties maybe, possible middle eastern decent, sitting in the drivers seat of a running van out behind the complex. Webb's going to call me with an update after he runs a search of known terrorist or terror suspects through the Company's database." He gave her a mischievous smile before adding, "I'm pretty sure that I'm officially in the need to know loop, whether Webb wanted it or not."
Mac narrowed her eyes and sat forward on the chair with her elbows on her knees. "What did you do?" she asked in a very deliberate tone.
"I just made sure that he understood that if it involves my child, it involves me." He looked down at the baby in his arms and continued in a softer voice, "Isn't that right, little Sophie…Daddy's gonna make sure you're safe from now on."
"Harrrrm..." Mac warned, standing up and approaching him slowly. He turned back to her and flashed her his best, biggest smile. Of course, she melted. "Play nice," was all she said, but even that was delivered with a warm smile of her own. She knew that the effect of her stern words was lost on him. It was okay though, because there was a small part of her that secretly thrilled when Harm made Clay squirm.
"Always," he replied cheekily before planting a swift, sloppy kiss on her lips. "Now, I do believe that your daughter needs to be changed," he said, wrinkling his nose playfully. "You want to do the honors, or would you rather check on Albina and Miss Sophie's breakfast?"
Not ready to leave the sanctuary of the undisturbed nursery, Mac reached out for the baby, who was beginning to stir. "You go. And you'd better hurry, Dad. I have a feeling she's gonna want that breakfast sooner rather than later."
"Aye, Ma'am," and he was out the door.
Mac spoke softly to the baby as her eyes began blinking open. "Did you hear that Sophie? Apparently, when you poop, you're my daughter," she explained as she unfastened the first snap at the top of Sophie's sleeper. She continued down, pulling loose two small feet when she reached the final snap. "Don't worry, we'll have him diapering like a pro in no time. Won't we." She ran her finger down the baby's chubby neck to her shoulder, eliciting a toothless, dimpled grin and a wiggle from the sleepy-eyed little girl.
Mac finished changing and redressing Sophie, hoping Harm would make it back with a bottle soon. While her momentary feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy had passed, she didn't think she was ready for round two of 'How well do Sophie's lungs work?' quite yet. Tucking her hands under the child's armpits, Mac lifted her up and held the baby out in front of her; face to tiny, wobbling face. Seconds passed as mother and daughter studied each other.
"You're gonna give me gray hair, aren't you?"
Sophie gave her a crooked smile and a spit bubble.
TBC
Come Take a Trip in My Airship is not mine, just like most everything else in this story. Full credits for the song will be listed at the end of the story.