"Nothing!" Bozer ranted as he tossed his tablet on the table with more force than he intended. He stood up and ran both hands through his hair. Riley watched him from the recliner where she sat curled up with her favorite blanket. Her apartment was nicer than one she would ever have expected to live in thanks to Bozer. She sipped her hot cocoa and glanced at the clock. They'd left Mac's around 10:00 now it was closing in on 4:00 in the morning.
"Bozer, take a breath," Riley said her eyes sympathetic. Bozer shook his head and crossed the room. He sat on the ottoman in front of the recliner.
"What do you think is going on with Mac?" Bozer asked. Riley frowned and let out a deep breath.
"I don't know, Boze, but I'm sure Jack can handle it." Bozer huffed.
"What if he can't? I think he's floundering too." Bozer said. Riley studied him and offered a half-smile.
"Are you sure that's what's really bugging you?"
"What is that suppose to mean?" Riley sat her laptop aside and leaned closer.
"Boze, sometimes when it's just Jack and Mac you…"
"You think I'm jealous?" Bozer's voice was not as defensive as Riley expected. Boze smiled at her surprised reaction. He stood up and paced, "I was, especially when they first came back from Afghanistan. Mac was so, screwed up. Riley, there were times he would just disappear not go anywhere physically, but in his head. I had to watch as his eyeballs turned inside and tore him apart in ways...I have no idea what happened over there, but I know if it wasn't for Jack...we wouldn't have Mac. It took me awhile to see that and longer to accept it. Especially when I thought you all worked at the same think tank, I mean Jack at a think tank?"
"I know, right?" Riley chuckled. Boze sat down again his face losing any sign of amusement.
"I knew Mac was keeping a lot from me. He'd come home hurt and bleeding with the lamest excuses...and would never talk to me like we used to. I know we aren't kids anymore, but when I first moved down here, we had a life. We'd go surfing, hang out with Penny...all that went away and if Mac was here, half the time he wasn't. Now I know why, and I'm not jealous of Jack and Mac at all. Just like Mac is there for me, Jack is there for him."
"So what's the problem?"
"I..I've never seen Mac react the way that he did this afternoon. I've seen him hurt pretty bad, I've seen the nightmares, the whole PTSD thing...but this was something up another level. I'd never seen Sally afraid of Mac. I'd never seen Jack so afraid." Riley blinked in surprise.
"Afraid? He wasn't afraid…"
"You didn't notice how close he watched Mac?"
"He was in Papa-Jack mode; you were watching him pretty closely too."
"Ok, you got me there. But I'm talking about the way they were sitting. Jack made a point of sitting a distance from Mac; he's never done that before." Riley realized Bozer was right.
"You think it's because he was afraid?" Riley frowned and shook her head.
"Not of Mac, for Mac."
"Boze, I'm not sure I follow." Bozer waved his hands slapping the blade of his right into the palm of his left at each point.
"At the hospital, Mac screamed "Don't touch me," Jack made sure no one was in sight when they left Phoenix, Jack has been extra careful moving around Mac especially when approaching to touch him, and Mac totally freaked out when we hugged him." Riley sighed. She had noticed how stiff Mac had gotten when she had hugged him. Riley had put it down to Mac hurting. Looking back, she had seen a shadow of panic in his eyes.
"What do you think happened to him?" She asked softly. Her gut churned as her gut conjured the unimaginable. She met Bozer's eyes and saw the same horror in his eyes.
"You don't think…" Bozer started. His voice strangled off, and Riley swore he went a few shades paler.
"We don't know anything, Boze." Riley said putting a hand on his forearm. She could feel him shaking with anger. Boze looked away but not before she saw tears in his eyes.
"It's the only thing that makes sense, the only thing he wouldn't talk to Jack about," Bozer whispered. Riley closed her eyes and shuddered at images of Mac being violated in the worst way. She shook her head against the memory of his voice screaming "don't touch me." She put her head in her hand.
"Oh my god." She murmured unable to stop tears from trickling down. Bozer leaned forward and hugged her. After a minute they separated. Bozer stepped away.
"Let's get back to this Ukrainian snake thing." Bozer in a hoarse voice. Riley nodded and pulled her laptop over and began typing. They worked in silence for another half hour.
"All I keep finding are these earthen fortifications that criss-cross the country that were built back in ancient times and repurposed as forts in WWII. They were called Serpent or Dragon walls." Bozer sighed rubbing his eyes. Riley leaned forward.
"Look!" Riley spun the laptop. She found an ornate design of a ZV stylized into a dragon."Since they've been fighting to keep Russia out of their borders the economy in the Ukraine has dropped, and human trafficking has skyrocketed. Most victims are shipped all over Europe and Asia, but the FBI has been looking into one group they think is operating out of LA, the Zmiyevi Valy. That translates to Serpent's wall."
"You think this is the tattoo Mac saw?" Bozer asked. Riley nodded studying the design.
"It's been found in a few of the flophouses the FBI raided."
"Any of the victims give any info?" Riley gave him a sour look.
"They never found any victims alive." Bozer let out a deep breath and rubbed his forehead.
"So it's down to Mac, again."
"Yeah."
"This sucks."
"Yeah."
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
The trio rode in silence. Jack had put the Shelby's top down even though the morning was damp with mist. Mac winced as he moved his right leg. He was surprised at how swollen it was this morning. It also itched and had a rash circling it. Mac explained that he was probably allergic to the elastic in the pressure bandage, but Jack wanted it looked at immediately.
Cage had come over to talk to Jack. Mac studied the pair. He didn't know what it had been, but the tension between the two was more oppressive than the moist air spitting at them as they drove. Matty called. She had a possible location for the Oswald's. One of the trails on the other side of the hill from Mac's house had a small little used private RV park that wouldn't be open until Memorial Day. Was that where Evalina had run from? Mac stretched his legs across the back seat and leaned his head back. The morning sun was bright enough he needed his Raybans even on such a misty day.
Jack wanted to head over to the RV park immediately didn't want to leave Mac alone with Cage. He suspected Cage wouldn't hesitate to mess with the kid's brain. She had even offered to stay with Mac, but Jack narrowed his eyes and growled something Mac thought sounded like, "nice try." Mac was trying to massage away a massive headache. He knew Jack wasn't thrilled with the idea of him gamboling into danger. Jack had gone with the best scenario. Mac would have gone anyway but was glad not to have to fight his partner on this one. Mac hoped Cage had the sense not to push Jack.
Mac grimaced glad he wore the dark shades. All night he'd dreamed of being restrained, gruff Russian voices, laughter, pain...Mac forced his body to relax and took deep breaths. He had no idea how many times he'd woken up screaming. Jack was there, as always. He never showed impatience or frustration or blamed Mac, but Mac managed to do all of that for the both of them. Jack had offered a hug but Mac couldn't without thinking about...Mac crossed his arms and shook forcing the memories away with a brutal will. This did not go unnoticed, of course.
"Mac, you cold?" Mac smiled back gratefully. His partner had asked if he was ok without actually asking if he was ok in front of Cage.
"No...No, I'm fine." The idea of the roof covering him seemed to suck away all the oxygen around him. Mac rubbed away the cold sweat bubbling on his forehead. Jack nodded, but Mac could feel the man keep a closer eye on him.
"I can't believe Dr. Grant lived so close to you." Cage said.
"No kidding." Jack growled. Mac smiled. Jack didn't like the pompous ass. Mac agreed with him although he'd only dealt with the man one other time when he'd had to have his shoulder essentially rebuilt. Most of that time Mac had been in a fog, which according to Jack was the best time to deal with "Dr. Sexy." The trio had gone to an awkward breakfast then drove the five miles to Dr. Grant's sprawling almost-a-mansion.
It was a brown monstrosity with a long gated drive that curled around a small human-made lake. Windows of all sizes and shapes poked out from niches that didn't seem to match the walls to which they were attached. If every window entered a room, then this place had hundreds of small rooms stacked like children's blocks.
"Damn, that looks like something spit out by Martha Stewart's alcoholic cat." Jack mumbled as he smoothly drove along the tarred drive.
"It's supposed to be a landmark historical sight, built by one of the old robber barons." Cage read from a map of LA she held in her hands.
"I could see it as a stash house." Jack said. Mac only half listened. He took off his shades and studied a small group of girls sitting in a circle on the lawn. Two men in suits with TAC radios stood at attention over them. The oldest a blonde watched the Shelby drive up and pulled the girls closer. As far as they were away, Mac could still feel their fear.
"Bud? You with us?" Jack asked frowning. Mac blinked. They'd pulled up to the front door. Mac slid his shades into his pocket.
"Yeah, let's do this." Mac sighed. His aching shoulder reminded him why he never liked crutches as he made his way to the ornate glass door. Jack walked close and a little behind him. Mac was glad of his partner's presence. Something about this whole house made his stomach churn. Mac kept his eyes on the floor as he hop-skipped after a butler or doorman or whatever. Sweat ran in rivulets down his back and legs. He wasn't sure if it was from exertion or the effort not to puke.
"Thank you, Edward. Please come and sit, Lazlo, is in the massage room with Ella. She is wonderful; perhaps she could help your leg heal? Tea?" The room was a vast echoing marble chamber with columns of marble, palm trees and a small fountain and glass, a lot of glass. Mac followed Jack's upward gaze and swallowed. A chandelier hung above them made of cut crystal that shined like diamonds. From underneath it looked like row upon row of knives pointed down at them ready to fall. It was unnerving.
The furniture was pretty, floral and gold, but uncomfortable. Mac sat gingerly with Jack's help worrying the entire time about whether it would hold his weight or not. It forced an uneasy posture. Mac shot Jack a glance. This whole room was designed to intimidate and impress. Judging by Jack's crossed arms and shoulder width stance, it irritated the Delta. Mac smiled. Jack Dalton wouldn't be intimidated by any room other than Elvis's bedroom, maybe. Mac shook the image away.
"No, thank you." Cage answered for all of them. She sat her legs drawn in ankles crossed on the end of the couch farthest from the woman. Mac raised an eyebrow. The two women might as well be cats growling with their fur standing straight up, tails puffed to double their size.
"I'm Esme Grant." The woman was tall, easily an inch or two taller than Mac and had black hair cut like a flapper from the 20s. It was too glossy and too black, a wig no doubt. Her eyes were large and her high cheekbones accented by makeup to look angular. Her jaw jutted out with an aristocratic disdain Mac wasn't sure was real or fake. She had the body of a model out of a magazine-too skinny for most men to desire, not thin enough for women who thought skeletal was sexy to men.
What caught Mac's attention was the faint unevenness on the left side of her cheek and neck. Plastic surgery, probably to hide a scar. Mac frowned his brain not liking the sums it was adding. A door beside the fountain opened. A woman, girl really left and strode behind the spray to a sprawling staircase and dashed up the stairs. Mac glanced at Jack who nodded. His partner had seen the stiffness and hands holding ripped clothes together as the woman almost fled the room. Mac felt the bottom of his gut drop as he looked at the closed door.
His heart moved from a trot to a gallop and his breaths shortened to painful puffs. Mac jumped and looked up startled. Jack stood beside him. He hadn't seen or heard the older man move. Jack watched the door with the narrowed eyes of a hunting puma. Mac let out a deep breath comforted by his partner's presence. The door opened, and a man who could have been a model stepped out. Mac felt his breath hitch but wasn't sure why.
"Come into the examining room?" The man said holding the door open. Jack bent and helped Mac stand.
"I'm right here," Jack whispered in his ear. Mac nodded and gulped. He could see a cushioned table through the open entry. The doorway seemed to grow a million miles tall and a couple hundred wide. Mac felt dizzy. He flinched as Jack put a hand on his shoulder. Mac shot him a mangled smile of gratitude. A large circular light hung over the table. The shelves covering the walls sported towels, lotions and necessary medical supplies. Mac's mouth was desert dry as he climbed onto the table. He closed his eyes. Everything seemed to whirl around him.
"You can wait outside." Grant said as he leaned over Mac's leg. Mac reached out and dug into Jack's arm with a desperate vice grip. Jack patted his hand.
"All due respect, doc, I ain't going anywhere." Mac sucked in a quick breath. His entire body shook as Grant hiked up Mac's pant leg. Mac's leg jumped as he felt the doctor's hot breath on it as he leaned closer to examine the rash. Mac pulled Jack closer his fingers digging into the meat of Jack's arm. Jack took Mac's hand in his and put his other hand on Mac's shoulder. Mac opened his eyes and looked into the worried gaze of his partner. Mac grimaced as Grant poked and prodded his flesh none too gently.
It took forever. Mac was painfully aware of every movement, every look of Dr. Grant but couldn't follow a word he said. He saw a blurry face bend over and mutter Russian in his ear. As soon as Mac's brace was back on, he shoved his way to the side of the table and hopped off not caring if he had crutches or not. He dimly felt Jack walk beside him and yell something to cage as Mac hobble-sprinted out the front door. He took a few steps toward the car then turned, curled over and puked.
Mac heaved until he felt hollow. He heard voices over his head but didn't care. All Mac heard is Russian, Domashneye zhivotnoye moyego brata. Tears ran down his face, and he couldn't breathe. Everything became a kaleidoscope of black and greys. He felt familiar hands haul him to his feet and walk him to the Shelby then they were driving. Mac closed his eyes giving into the shaking fear. He had no idea how long it was before the car stopped and Jack leaned over him.
"Mac? Kiddo?" Mac forced his eyes open and reached out clutching Jack's shirt.
"It was him." Mac gasped.
"What?" Jack asked. Cage leaned beside Jack her vulpine features hardening.
"The face...the Russian...it was him." Mac stuttered out the Russian. Cage blanched.
"It translates to...my brother's pet." She said softly. Mac began to heave again. Jack shot Cage a look. She nodded and climbed out of the car. Jack climbed into the back seat and pulled Mac against his chest. Mac's body felt cold, bloodless as it tried to shake itself apart. Jack was warm, safe. Mac curled in close silently crying as Jack rubbed his back and murmured wordless soothing things.