A/N: Some answers will be revealed in this part!

Trinkets – Part 7

The steps creaked, and Clinton soon appeared in the room with them, putting his gun back in his holster. He stopped, took a cleansing breath, and then continued in the direction of his two prisoners. "I suppose you've realized that we now have one less guest at this party." Grimacing, he added lightly, "It's a good thing there are no neighbors around to complain about the noise level."

"He was your partner," Mac pointed out. "What kind of monster are you?"

Clinton sat down at the table and picked up one of the bottles of water that Nichols had put there earlier. "I'm not a monster. I just have to play by a certain set of rules. Jake wanted to break those rules."

He took a swig of the liquid that was not nearly as cold as he would have liked and put the bottle back down. "It is inconvenient though," he said, mildly disappointed. "… I really did want him to help with our game, and now … I'm going to have to play by myself against you two. Not to mention the mess that someone's going to have to clean up," he added, gesturing to the monitor that showed Jake's lifeless form strewn across an expanding pool of blood.

Harm spoke up this time. "I thought it was your job to clean up messes?"

After acknowledging Harm's observation with a laugh, Clinton corrected, "… Not literally."

"So, this is just another thing you'll leave for some 'hard-working American chumps' to worry about," responded Harm, shifting his position slightly. He was clearly referencing comments that Clinton had made previously.

"I assume that, in this case, you're referring to the police," said Clinton. "It is tempting to leave it for them to clean up. But, … I don't think that would be such a good idea. They have this nasty habit of examining every little thing and turning it into evidence.
"Though, it's true that, considering how deserted this neighborhood is, they might only find the body years from now when some developer finally decides to bulldoze this place … But … I don't know … Maybe I just watch too much 'CSI' … and 'Cold Case.' Makes me a little paranoid, you know?"

"I'm sure it keeps you up at night," said Harm sarcastically.

Clinton laughed. "I can tell by your snappy comments that you're waking up," he observed of Harm. "I'm glad." He turned to Mac and whispered, "I told you the injection would help."

"What is it you want?" Mac asked him, wishing to know what this was all about.

"No, no, no," he scolded her. "That's not your part of the game. See," he put his hand to his chest, "I ask the questions."

"And our part of the game?" she asked.

"Well, your partner gets to choose. He can answer my questions, in which case, you don't have to do anything, really," he told her.

"And if I don't," asked Harm, though he already suspected what the answer would be.

"If you don't, … then your partner, … Sarah, … well, … I may have to do something to her … that you probably won't like."

Harm shook his head. "No. She has nothing to do with this situation. Don't involve her!"

Clinton laughed. "See, … this is exactly why this game here is going to work. This is what Jake just couldn't see for himself."

He turned his attention back to Mac. "That man downstairs really had it bad for you, you know. Which worked out really well for me, … at first. … I got information and extra help because he didn't like Harmon Rabb, here. He seemed to think that you are pining after the unworthy Commander."

"I'm not pining after anyone," Mac objected.

"Be that as it may, Jake showed me some tapes, and … you do look rather smitten with Mr. Rabb in some of them," Clinton practically teased her, before moving on. "So, Jake saw Harm as an obstacle, competition, … an enemy, even."

Before Mac could object further, Clinton continued, "But what I realized after looking at some of the tapes, and then hearing my guest here talk," he gestured to Harm, "is that Harmon Rabb … is just as taken by you, if not more so. Jake just couldn't see it, because he couldn't imagine anyone else caring for you as much as he, himself, did."

Clinton looked back to Harm, although he continued to direct his words to Mac. "But I could tell that Harm, here, is keenly interested in you. Not only does he want you, … but, well, I daresay he's in love with you." Shifting his eyes back to Mac, he added, "At the very least, he cares for you deeply, and he won't be able to stand to see anything bad happen to you."

Harm's adrenaline was flowing now due to sheer anger at this man who dared to threaten Mac. His brain was not only waking up, but his neurons were on overdrive. How was he going to stop this? Clinton was right – he could withstand torture and drugs while keeping his mouth shut, … but he could not let Mac be hurt!

As Clinton looked between the two captives, one of those disgusting grins again formed on his face. "Look at that." He pointed to Harm. "It's in his eyes, Sarah. Harmon Rabb is finally scared. I couldn't get that from him before, but he's going to talk now."

"What is this even about?" asked Mac, refusing to look at Harm. If he was showing fear, seeing him scared and vulnerable was not going to help her own resolve any. "If I'm going to be tortured, … I think I at least deserve to know why."

"What do you think, Harm? Should we tell her? … Or leave her in the dark?"

There was silence for a long while, and Mac began to wonder if Harm had somehow gotten himself involved in something that he was ashamed of having been doing. She knew he would never be involved in bad things for the sake of doing bad things, … but he was a risk-taker, and he bent rules when he believed it was for the greater good.

With Clinton staring at Harm, waiting for an answer, Mac's curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she finally looked over to her partner as well.

Sensing Mac's gaze, Harm was finally prompted to speak to his captor. "She doesn't know anything about this."

"I know. But it really can't hurt to tell her now, can it?" asked Clinton.

There was no response.

Surveying Harm, Clinton concluded, "You're still trying to protect her, aren't you? The less she knows, the more likely I'll let her go?"

Mac could tell from Harm's expression that Clinton was right about why Harm was keeping quiet. She was not happy about that, because she knew that, at this point, her safety did not depend on what she knew.

"Whatever is going on, he's not going to let either of us get out of this alive," Mac told Harm. "You know that. I've seen him, and that's reason enough to kill me. So, I might as well know what's going on, because, no matter how this ends, it doesn't help me not to know."

She hoped that she had made it clear to Harm that she was not at all giving up, just that Clinton letting her go was not a realistic option.

"She makes a decent point," Clinton agreed. Looking at Mac, he added, "You really are quite a good attorney aren't you?"

"She's an excellent attorney," said Harm. "But she's wrong this time."

Mac gave Harm a look of disbelief, but Harm sternly stared back at her and insisted, "She's going to get out of here alive, … or you get nothing from me."

"Are you actually saying that you are willing to talk now?" asked Clinton.

Harm directed his attention to the man. "If you let her go, … make sure your people know that she doesn't know a thing about who they are or what they're planning, … I'll tell you whatever you want. I'll take you there myself."

Clinton smiled. "That's good, Commander. But I'm afraid your logic doesn't hold up. Don't worry though, the drugs are still in your system, which is probably still clouding your mind a bit. See, … if I let Sarah go, … we're back to where we started."

"You have my word," Harm insisted.

"Not good enough. You'd lie to save her. Besides, do you really think that, if I released her, she would just go along her merry way? … No, she'd come back, she'd come after you, and regardless of … the condition in which she might find you, she'd come after me. No, she's right; she already knows too much. … The question is whether I kill her … or keep her, whether she's treated kindly … or …" Clinton walked up to Mac, pulled a knife out, and tenderly dragged it along the side of her face. "… not so much."

Harm had to bite his tongue when he had seen Mac nearly bang her head against the wall as she had reflexively jerked back away from the knife. With nowhere to go, she had tensed and stoically accepted the blade touching her skin. Harm knew that if he reacted, it would only encourage Clinton to continue.

To Mac's relief, after a moment, Clinton stepped back, leaving her skin intact.

"So, Colonel … That is your rank, yes?"

"Lieutenant Colonel," she reluctantly corrected.

"Ah. Jake always referred to you as a Colonel. Was that just part of his glorifying you in his mind?"

She took a short breath to relax herself. Talking was good, she reasoned, so she explained, "It's not uncommon to shorten the rank when referring to another officer unless it is a formal situation or the specific rank is relevant."

"I see. Well, then, since I'm not an officer, let me be formal. … Lieutenant Colonel, … you said you wanted to know what all this is about?"

She glanced over at Harm, who was looking resigned to the fact their captor was going tell Mac. She turned back to Clinton. "Yes," she confirmed.

"Your colleague, Harm," Clinton explained to her, "had the unfortunate luck of … becoming friends with one of my acquaintances."

"He wasn't a friend," Harm corrected. "I don't make friends with that kind of filth."

"Oh, we don't need to resort to nasty descriptions," Clinton chastised him. "That doesn't help your image as an officer and gentleman. And what would the Bar Association have to say about you speaking about a client that way?"

"Former client," said Harm.

"Yes," conceded Clinton, "… being dead does make him a former client." He turned to Mac and continued, "… Which brings us all to this current predicament. Since Munch, … my acquaintance, was only formerly alive, I'm not able to ask him questions anymore. But, see, … I happen to know that before he died, … Munch had a conversation with … his attorney."

His eyes again rested on Harm. "Mr. Rabb seems to take this attorney-client privilege thing very seriously though, because he won't say a word about their little discussion."

"What is it you want to know from what they talked about?" asked Mac, knowing that Harm's silence had nothing to do with the privilege rights of a dead man and everything to do with the information itself, whatever it might be.

"You know what?" Clinton decided, "I'm just going to sit down here for a bit and let the two of you talk. Harm can fill you in, and this might just be your opportunity to get him to tell me what I want to know. That would certainly save us all from a lot of pain and hassle.
"Well," he amended, "it would save you two some pain and save me a lot of hassle."

Clinton sat back down at the table, and for a good minute there was silence. Finally, he urged them, "I'll give you two more minutes. Then we start the game playing!"

Mac looked at Harm expectantly. He finally relented and told her, "I represented Petty Officer Chad Munkowitz, a.k.a. 'Munch,' about a year and a half ago. I was assigned to defend him on charges of armed robbery, but it didn't look good for him, so I advised him to take a plea bargain."

"Was I prosecuting?" asked Mac. The name did not seem familiar, but, with the amount of names in her caseloads over the years, she couldn't remember every person she was assigned to prosecute, especially the ones that did not go to trial.

"No. No, it was Mattoni, but this has nothing to do with the case. I was just unfortunate enough to be given some information by my client. I didn't realize the significance of that information at the time, but it's obviously very important to some people." Harm pointedly looked at Clinton, who just smirked back before downing some more water.

"What kind of information?" asked Mac.

"Petty Officer Munkowitz was part of a team of criminals involved in a lot more than taking money from people at gunpoint. … There is supposedly a … device of some sort that these criminals want to get their hands on. Munch had apparently stolen it … or somehow became its keeper. He hid it, and now his cohorts want to get their hands on it."

Mac looked over at Clinton, assessing his smug countenance regarding the whole situation. "The device … Will it hurt people?" she asked Harm.

He nodded his head, and, with that simple gesture, conveyed the gravity of the potential death and destruction.

"How did Munch die?" she asked.

"In the brig. Suicide."

"Yes, yes, yes," Clinton interrupted impatiently, standing up and walking towards them to become part of the discussion. "Munch was a coward who couldn't deal with living behind bars. But he didn't off himself until after he had requested a meeting with his attorney. He thought his mail might be monitored, so instead of writing the location of the device, he wrote about his lawyer, giving the hint to a friend of mine that he had revealed the location to none other…" He roughly placed his hand on Harm's shoulder, causing the injured man to wince. "… than Harmon Rabb, Junior."

He looked over at Mac. "So, now, if you don't mind, … please convince this … colleague, … friend, … lover? Whatever he is to you – convince him to tell me where the device is. Then, I won't have to cause you any pain. I won't have to cause him any more pain." He shook Harm's shoulder, but this time, Harm was prepared and didn't reveal how much it hurt.

Mac surveyed the situation and determined the best course of action. "Give us a minute … alone," she requested that Clinton leave them.

"No."

"You want me to convince him? Give us some privacy," she insisted.

Clinton considered it. "You have until I get back with some more water."

When she was sure he was gone, Mac turned to her best friend, "Harm …"

"What do I do, Mac? I don't want him to touch you."

"I know," she said, but before she could continue, Harm started talking again.

"I would tell him. I would, but the destruction that can be caused by that device is beyond …" He let that hang, not sure how to describe the threat.

Mac used the opportunity to jump in, affirming, "I don't want you to tell him where it really is."

"Even if I could give him wrong intel, he'd come back when he figures that out and take it out on you."

"But, we're going to get out of here, Harm. … And don't worry about me."

"I can't let anything happen to you."

"Harm, I am a United States marine. Not an innocent civilian. I signed up to protect our country, just like you did."

"You're not just a marine to me!" he whispered fiercely. "I love you."

Her heart melted just a little more at hearing that, but their time was limited so she had to stick to business. "Then tell him something untrue to buy us some more time."

"… I … don't know if I can." His eyes had turned to the ground.

"Why not?"

"The stuff he injects me with …"

"… Some sort of truth serum?"

Harm nodded. "I can force myself to stay quiet, but when I talk, … it's hard to make things up. … My brain is …"

"It's okay, Harm. Then just stay quiet, and pay attention, because I might need your help to get us out of here."

"You have a plan?"

"Sort of. It will depend on whether …"

"Alright, time's up!" said Clinton, who had come back into the room. "And I get the impression you weren't really trying to talk him into cooperating, were you?"

Mac knew they had been caught, so there was no point in denying it. "He's not going to talk."

"At your instruction."

"With my agreement," she corrected. "I don't want innocent lives lost on my account."

"Aren't you an innocent life?"

"I'm a marine. I signed up to risk my life to protect this country and its citizens."

"How very patriotic of you. But who says the device is going to be used against U.S. citizens?"

She paused for a moment, and then resolutely stated, "It doesn't matter. It will kill people, and it shouldn't be found because it shouldn't be used."

"Interesting attitude coming from someone in the military, given that you are trained to kill."

"We're trained to defend," Harm cut in.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Clinton asked him.

Harm forced himself to remain quiet. Of course he had. Directly and indirectly, but that was a can of worms he knew better than to open. Despite the drugs making it difficult to censor himself, he did manage to stay silent.

Clinton abruptly switched to look at Mac. "How about you, Lieutenant Colonel? You ever killed anyone?" Without giving her the opportunity to respond, he answered for her, "Never mind, I know you have. You killed someone today."

TBC ...

A/N: Thanks for the feedback. I hope people are staying intrigued by this story.