Chapter 28
NCIS Naval Facility Great Lakes – Crane, 1955hrs, same day
Gibbs looked at his partner, "Have you got an ID trace on the thumb-drive that was left on that computer?" The reply was negative, "You can't get a trace on it, you can't pull thumb-prints from it, or you can't get an ID on the trace? Which one is it?" Gibbs snapped at his partner. Time was fleeting and he needed answers. The answer was negative to the last. Gibbs shook his head. He was getting nowhere fast and the trail was quickly growing cold.
He had a gut hunch that it was DSD's little snuffer, Clark Palmer; but if he could pin the man to the deed, then he couldn't nail the slippery SOB to the wall. In this game, you couldn't go on gut hunches alone. You had to have the evidence to convict.
Secondly, DSD was notorious about not leaving any of their guys around to get captured. Either they got the hell out of Dodge or there was a little handy problem-solving pill in a secret compartment that they could take and everything would go away.
Palmer had a high-survival quotient and he knew exactly when to get when the getting was good. Psychological profiles indicated Palmer as a classic psychopath who had no problems with eliminating anyone who crossed his path.
And he was out there...somewhere...
...watching...waiting...
...for someone to target.
And that target that he fixated on was one Harmon Rabb Jr. Gibbs had read the profile of interactions between Palmer and Rabb and it read like a suspense novel. Palmer lliked playing cat and mouse with Rabb and he knew clearly that he was the cat and Rabb, if he could squeak and had a predilection for cheese, well, it was clear that Rabb was the mouse. Because it was certainly clear that Rabb did not fit the psychological profile for a predator in the way that Clark Palmer did.
Gibbs shook his head, "We have to come up with something."
"How?" His partner asked.
"Sweep the facility again. Footprints, fingerprints, electronic traces. I want everything packaged up and sent down to the Navy Yard and taken apart."
"Crane isn't going to like it, neither is the CNO who green-lighted the project."
"See if I care." Gibbs' response was acid. "We had an attempt on the life of a NAVINSGEN investigator that nearly turned fatal, we have a CO of the facility murdered. I don't care the CNO is wearing just a jockstrap and the rest of his naked body is covered in stars denoting his rank. My job is to nail this murderous son-of-a-bitch. If they don't like it they can stick that up where the sun doesn't shine." He looked over at his partner, "...and rotate on it." he finished.
His partner was quiet for a long moment before turning to Gibbs, "...you sure you can get this guy?"
Gibbs' look was that of a tenacious bloodhound. "Damn rights. He can't murder a Navy officer and nearly kill another one and expect me not to be on his ass from sun-up to sundown seven three-sixty-five."
An unknown location, Williamsburg, VA, 0845hrs, two days later
Harm looked out the window into a cloudy day. It had been sunny for the past few weeks but a cold front had moved in bringing with it some bad weather. Of course that didn't stop his freind and his former legal partner from taking advantage of whatever opportunity presented itself to further pursue Animal's physical rehabilitation.
Bethesda had sent their best physical therapist in the form of a Navy Lieutenant Commander by the name of Dr. Elizabeth Franks who decided that since she was single that she would stay within that protective circle and continue to help the Navy Captain with his rehabilitation with whatever knowledge that she could impart to the blonde Navy JAG Lieutenant Commander who, interestingly, appeared to hover; watching over her and Captain Nakamura's every interaction with a hawk-like gaze which did make LCDR Franks feel as though she was under intense scrutiny.
Animal however had intently pursued nothing other than his formal physical rehabilitation regimen with LCDR Franks who kept professional in every instance of the training schedule. A weight machine and other tools of the physical therapist's training regimen had been provided and assembled under the watchful eyes of armed Marines who did not for one second take their eyes off the men assembling the weight-training equipment. Three had their rifles in hand while a further three were armed with M9 Berettas which in any case was still six muzzles of weapons pointed at three people doing the construction of the machines.
Harm could see Meg was extremely antsy during the course of having strangers within their personal space and she was not very happy with the fact that they were in close proximity. She still remembered when Animal was hooked up to life-support equipment, helpless – the attempt on his life had nearly cost his life and it had taken quite some time to get even this far; he was not fully recovered. There were still times that he labored under the regimen, was out of breath or felt physically weak or his pulse rate shot up farther than was warranted under normal circumstances. And these were the times that Meg worried for his health and safety.
"You OK" Harm looked over at Meg who also looked tired and worn at the fact that she had been watching over Animal for days on end hoping for any sign of him regaining his abililties. They both knew that he would never touch the controls of a high-performance jet fighter ever again. The fact that the bullets that had entered his chest had left his stable lung wall integrity weaker than it was before made it so that he could no longer fly while breathing pressurized oxygen nor could he go scuba diving.
"I'm just tired, Harm."
"You look stressed." Harm noted, "You've been taking care of him with no spell off and you really haven't talked to anyone, have you."
Meg shook her head.
"You can't shoulder this all yourself, Meg." he stated.
"Like you blamed yourself?" Meg asked him. Touche. Harm knew he had a bad habit of blaming himself for not being able to protect everyone around him.
"Look, Meg, he'll get better, you got to believe that."
"I know he's going to get better, Harm." Meg looked sadly at her legal partner, "But how do I tell him that the Navy will never agree to letting him back in the cockpit of an F-14 Tomcat; not with the permanent structural integrity of his lung walls and the potential for another wall-collapse under high g-load." She sniffled, "He's not going to take this well..." she trailed off with a look of sheer misery as she fastened her gaze on him. "How do I itell him that what he loved is gone; that he'll never get in the cockpit of another high-performance jet fighter ever again?"
Harm looked up at the ominous clouds out the window closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. His heart bled for his friend. At least even if he couldn't fly, Harm still had the option open to him; to be physically able to fly F-14s still. Animal not only had the door closed, it was now slammed shut and locked by circumstances beyond his control.
Would he ever reconcile the fact that the decision he made to accompany Gibbs to take down Palmer ended any chance of getting back in the cockpit of any fighter, any jet attack aircraft or jet bomber of any branch of the United States Military. Hell, with even ELINT and AWACS aircraft going high-performance, getting into an Electronic Warfare squadron would not be feasible.
Animal often would look up at the sky wistfully but contrary to Meg's dire musings, Animal knew already that he wouldn't be going back to the high-performance jet cockpit. With this injury, getting back on his feet was a long game and he knew that the likelihood of him flying anything other than light aircraft or airline transport aircraft ever again were slim to none. What he had now was more important than what he'd lost. He'd had the love of flying in his blood, the feel of the stick in his hand as he guided 34 tons of air-grade aluminum through the air at speeds over Mach 2 and that had sufficed but now he had someone who was flesh and blood, who loved him just as much as he loved her. Meg meant the world and more to him. She meant more than ever touching stick and throttle again.
Would he step into a cockpit of a light plane or jet airline transport? Oh, you bet, but didn't want to push the situation by trying to get back to the jet fighter cockpit, end up having a lung collapse due to g-load ad end up digging a hole. That was not something he wanted to do in the slightest.
But what was now most important when they got through this mess was his future with Meg Austin. Animal sighed again. If Clark Palmer came at him and his friends again, Animal would not hesitate to put three nine millimeter bullets through Palmer's chest cavity and two through his forehead.
That would probably be the only way to keep that bastard down and to tell one the truth with Palmer's obstinately miraculous powers of resurrection from being nearly shot dead, Animal figured it would take Palmer being chained to a chair in the middle of White Sands Missile Testing Grounds, anchored to one-thousand pounds of reinforced concrete embedded sixty feet into the ground restrained by four anchor chains welded to those buried thousand pound blocks then being vaporized by a 1.2 MT yield B-61 air-dropped and primed for surface detonation to completely obliterate the threat of Palmer ever coming back but unfortunately the likelihood of that ever happening was nil.
Animal could see Harm telling Meg something and the both of them looking his direction. A lesser more suspicious man would have thought something markedly different and untoward was going on, but Animal, finally for the first time in his life after being unceremoniously yanked from the cockpit was at peace with everything in his life. Nearly losing his life brought him to the realization that he did not need to be going Mach 2.3 with his hair on fire to be happy. Meg in his arms made him genuinely happy for the first time in his life. Meg and Harm were his best friends; both had nearly worried themselves sick over his health and Animal knew that Harm and Meg were discussing his health by the looks on their faces as they glanced over at him every so often and the low voices they were using.
He headed over to them as they noted his approach and looked at him.
He nodded to Meg, "Hey," he said quietly. Noting her eyes were misty and she looked down about something. "Harm, you mind?" He paused. His neural pathways had rerouted according to what his doctor had clearly stated and his speech was becoming clearer with each passing day. "Need to talk to Meg about something in private." he said.
"Sure thing, Animal." Harm said. "I'll catch the both of you at lunch time. Both of you let me know if you two need anything."
"Hon, you look worried about something." Animal asked quietly.
"You know..." Meg sounded hesitant. "I thought I was going to be able to handle everything as it came up..." she paused for a long moment taking a deep breath. "I..."
"mmmmhmmmm?"
"What?" Meg sounded stunned, "I said that I'm at a loss on how to handle this and all you can say is mmmmhmmm?" She raised her eyebrows.
"That's because...it's it's what I think it is..." He'd known about the x-rays for some time, that the walls of his lungs were not as strong as they were before the bullets punctured them. "...that you're trying to find the words for..." he paused to let Meg parse those thoughts. "...it's that I already know..." He reached out for Meg's hands and then enfolded her with his arms as Meg sought out his embrace. "I know I'm not going to be able to fly any high performance fighters ever again." he sighed deeply as he pulled Meg tight to him as Meg tightened her own embrace of him. "I'm not saying I'm not disappointed or sad about it, but the realization is that what's most important is..." He looked deeply into Meg's eyes. "...that I have you."
Meg looked at him, her heart aching for him as well as full from the realization of what he had just imparted to her. He'd put the importance of her over the flying he'd done for so many decades.
Meg tightened her embrace as her mouth sought his in a passionate kiss, then pulled away for a brief moment, "Are you sure?" she asked him in between kisses. "This is something you've done for years. It's a part of you."
"It is, but the memories will always be there and the most important part of my life..." He paused and grinned at her, "I finally realized, is right in front of me..." He leaned in and whispered into her left ear. "...nestled in my arms at this very moment."
She sniffled a bit. "You always know the right things to say to me to make me feel better." She murmured softly.
"As much as I miss flying, none of it compares to what I have with you, Meg."
Lia leaned against Harm, "They really love each other, don't they?" She grinned at Harm who stood back watching the two. He nodded silently as he regarded his former legal partner nestled in his RAG instructor's arms.
JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA, 1255hrs
"Is Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie back from her lunch break yet?"
"No sir."
RADM Morris was highly irritated. "Did she give you any indication that she was taking a longer than usual lunchbreak?"
"No, sir."
RADM Stiles Morris was starting to get a sneaking suspicion that something was seriously wrong It had been stated that the DSD agent who had gone after Captain Nakamura was Clark Palmer. CAPT Nakamura was the lead investigator on the Crane investigation and as such, he would be the first one that Palmer would want to silence.
What was the connection? Morris thought as he sat there. Then it hit him. Palmer knew Mackenzie was connected in some way to Harmon Rabb who was the secondary NAVINSGEN investigator in this case.
Even though it was a personal connection, Palmer wouldn't hesitate to use Mackenzie as bait to lure Rabb out of hiding. And Rabb would go after Palmer if he touched one hair on Mackenzie's head.
"Get me the Master-at-Arms. I need you to assemble a tracking party and locate Colonel Mackenzie."
Somewhere in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, 1525hrs
Mac came to, her head spinning and her mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with a ball of cotton. The last thing she remembered was taking a shortcut to get back to the office from lunch. Her senses felt foggy and she had a dim recollection of strong arms yanking her head back, a funny smelling rag over her mouth and nostrils and it had been lights-out; no time to even scream let alone fight back. When the scent of whatever they hit her with to knock her out came over her, she was rendered incapable and unconscious.
Mac looked around her at the surrounding area. She was in a room, no, more like a cell. The door was reinforced with steel and there was non lock mechanism that would be readily accessible without the aid of heavy duty power-tools to hack the door apart. She was essentially trapped in the space with no way to get out.
Mac knew she too was restrained; the feel of the heavy steel bracelets around her wrists told her that and those bracelets were linked to heavy chains bolted into the wall. There was no way for her to pull free of them.
There was a smirking pair of eyes at the three-pane insulated security-glass reinforced rectangular window in the door that belonged to a face right out of her nightmares.
"I'm sorry this isn't much of an accommodation." The voice was mocking. "After all, you and Harm are well-versed in making escapes. Just can't have that since you are my, shall we say, fetchingly attractive lure to catch a slippery little fish I've been hunting for quite some time." a chuckle but it wasn't a friendly one. There was a clear note of sinister pleasure in his cacchinating. "But no matter, I'm sure that our little prey will show up once he knows I've got you rather tied up."
"Spilling all your secrets?" Mac taunted him, "...to your tied up victim?"
"No, just prepping your mind for what's going to come next." Palmer intoned, a wry look of humor only he could understand, "...when I kill your friend."
As much as she hated the fact that Lia had taken Harm from her, hearing the simple intention of Palmer stating that he was going to kill Harm was enough to make Mac's blood run cold.
An unknown location, Williamsburg, VA 1655hrs,
"Yes, sir, I understand, sir." Keeter hung up the phone, his skin was pallid and drawn.
"What is it?" Harm asked.
Keeter looked over at Harm with a torn expression. "Palmer has Mac." Harm's face fell; he looked stricken.
"There's too much at risk." Harm said, his voice ragged with pent-up rage and frustration. He wanted Palmer's head on a stake – preferably barbecued. "There's too many lives at stake here." He sat down heavily on the couch. He didn't know how he was going to solve this His love, his friends were all there in front of him, but he couldn't leave Mac to Palmer and what he could and would do to the Marine if thwarted in his attempts to kill the NAVINSGEN investigators meaning him and Animal.
Animal was clenching his fists. He wasn't one hundred percent and Palmer had to pull this. He wasn't able to assist his friend to get Mac out of Palmer's clutches and there was no way that Harm could do this alone. Palmer was wily enough to kill Mac and get away before anyone was able to get within range.
Plus he was Palmer's primary target. If he went out, that would lure Palmer out to finish the job. Animal smiled to himself, Yeah, there's the solution. Maybe if he was the lure, Harm could get Mac out while Palmer's attention was distracted.
Sure he didn't like Mac for everything that woman had done to Harm, yanked him around like a puppet-on-a-string and kept him coming and going but she didn't deserve the cruel death that Palmer was going to inflict on her once he'd finished with Harm.
"We can't very well leave Mac to Palmer's tender ministrations, can we?" Animal said, "As much as I don't like her, far be it from me to condemn her to die, just because we're in protection."
"But what about you?" Harm said, "You haven't trained in martial arts in how many months?"
"Doesn't mean I can't break the scrawny fuck's neck if I get hold of him." Animal said, "And I have a few extra surprises for him if he's not careful." Harm raised an eyebrow in question and in answer, Animal slowly puled out an extremely sharp throwing knife. "there's at least six on my person." He shrugged again, "I doubt he can find all of them." Then he withdrew a combat knife equally sharp. Rolling up his pant-leg revealed an ankle holster equipped with a nine-shot Beretta Cougar.
"How the hell did you manage to keep that arsenal on you when you were rehabbing?" Harm's jaw nearly hit the floor.
"Your friendly neighborhood spook brought me them." Animal smirked, throwing an irreverent look at Clay.
Clay rolled his eyes at Animal's reference to him and replied, his voice still nasally from Chegwidden having broken his nose. "Under threat of having the numbers of bones in my shoulder match the ones in my nose." Webb muttered caustically, Just don't get yourself killed playing Rambo again, Captain. There's no Medal of Honor in it for you this time."
Animal scoffed, "If you think I was looking for the first one; you're mistaken. Webb the only prize that was worth it is what I have now."
Meg looked at Animal sharply, "And you're going to risk your life again?" She said with some heat and a lot of anger, "I don't understand, Tosh! How many times is enough?"
JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA, 1730hrs
"Is that for certain, sir?" LCDR Mic Brumby furrowed his brows, "We know for certain that Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie is in Clark Palmer's hands? That man is a bloody maniac; sir."
Lieutenant Colonel (ret.) John Farrow nodded. They were both in RADM Stiles Morris's office. "He is and he's going to kill her if the protectees don't come out and reveal themselves."
"Do they know about LCOL Mackenzie's capture, sir?" Mic asked referring to the protectees. He and Rabb'd had a tumultuous relationship as co-workers due to their mutual interest in Sarah Mackenzie and their mutual dislike of each other. "Is there a chance that they are going to reveal themselves and risk their protected status. If so, we need to augment their numbers and make certain that we gain the upper hand over Clark Palmer."
"I'm sure they do, Lieutenant Commander Brumby." Brumby nodded to RADM Morris.
"And Captain Nakamura is in a physical state where he can defend himself?" He asked wondering how this all was going to go down and how to rescue Sarah. Admittedly he liked the woman. She had spunk and definitely sparked his interest unlike other Sheilas he'd come across in his travels. Sarah Mackenzie intrigued him.
And she was currently being held captive by Palmer. Which meant for LCDR Mic Brumby of Her Royal Majesty's Royal Australian Naval Service, Legal Division was that he was duty bound, not only for the honour of Australia herself, but of his own honour, he had to go rescue her.
Blimey, these Yanks got themselves into a right bloody mess when things carked up, aye, mate? Brumby knew this wasn't going to be an easy rescue.
Palmer was dangerous according to what he'd been told by the Australian Intelligence who, as per usual, kept tabs on the goings-on of their neighbours as well as their enemies, one Clark Palmer, a member of the Defence Security Division acronymically speaking: DSD, was completely insane. Typed as a psychopath with no sense of remorse, he was tagged as a sweeper, someone who the DSD could utilize to silence those who knew too much; those whom the agency deemed as high risk and were supposedly too dangerous a security risk to keep alive. Using Palmer would give them plausible deniability that they could utilize to disavow any actions taken on their behalf.
An unknown location, Williamsburg, VA, 1835hrs
"Why" The couple had retired to their room. "You're not even rehabilitated yet and you're risking your life for someone who doesn't even give a shit about the people she works with." Meg asked heatedly. She wanted to hurt Sarah Mackenzie herself for her Tosh to even come up with the idea of using himself as bait. If only she could put her hands around that cursed woman's neck and squeeze.
"We can't very well leave her in Palmer's hands, can we?" Tosh asked her. "If the shoe was on the other foot..."
"You mean if I was the one...?"
Tosh nodded. As much as she wanted to say that she was magnanimous enough to sacrifice her life for his, she couldn't truthfully say that she wanted to die in that case. She would want him to do everything in his power to rescue her before she would consider the situation hopeless.
She looked over at him. Damn him for making her stand in Mackenzie's shoes. "You'd better not get hurt again." She snapped. "One time in the ER on life support is one time too many. Not that I'm saying I'm going to walk out on you. I won't ever do that but I'm just saying that I'm going to be very pissed off at you...for a very long time." she paused for a moment as tears filled her eyes. I'm strong usually, but these past few months, the stress has worn me down Meg thought to herself. "Why!" she asked. "Why does it have to be you to draw Palmer out? If what I heard about him is even halfway true, you could end up dying or even more severely injured than you already are."
"Because Harm is the one who is one hundred percent right now...and I'm the one Palmer wants to eliminate. It has to be someone who is tempting enough for Palmer to loosen his grasp on Mackenzie long enough for Harm to rescue her." Animal tried to explain to Meg. "He may be a homicidal psychopath, but even he knows when the chips are down and when it's too risky to make a move. The bait has to be appealing enough to draw him out of hiding, just like he's trying to lure us out of hiding."
Meg slammed her fist into the open palm of her other hand. "I want Mackenzie's head after this." she snarled. Put her man into danger just because she got abducted? Well, she'd see about that.
Thank goodness Harm wasn't in the room or his eyeballs would pop out of his head, Animal thought as he looked over at Meg. "Look, I'll be OK. Don't do anything to risk your career."
"Hang my career! If you get hurt, I'm knocking Mackenzie's teeth down the back of her throat." Meg wished that she could have her hands around LCOL Mackenzie's throat at that very moment and right at that moment, Harm poked his head in.
"Meg?" he asked rather taken aback at the vehemence in Meg's reply to Animal's admonishment.
"Look, Harm. You have Lia to protect. Are you all in or still pining over Mac?" She rounded on him just as aggressively as Harm took two steps back. "...and now that bitch is putting my man in danger by getting herself captured. Are you nuts?"...she shot a glare over her shoulder at Animal, "...and YOU...coming up with this hare-brained idea to begin with to use yourself as bait. Has she got a spell on the both of you?"
Harm and Animal looked at each other in consternation. Meg's comments were making them think twice. Harm thought about it from Lia's point of view which he had discounted completely, what was she thinking of him now and Animal realized just how much Meg loved him and his plan was seriously hurting his soul-mate. "Maybe we should rethink this..." Harm said. Lia followed him in and stood by Meg, hands on her hips with an icy look at both Harm and Animal.
"Yeah...maybe we should..." Animal echoed Harm looking over at Meg who looked as if she was about to brain the both of them with a cast iron frying pan. That would not do well for his brain injury if she were to take that route.
Lia asked Meg, "You wanna take a walk; escorted, I mean...with a couple Marines. I feel the need to cool down a bit..." Meg nodded in response and both walked out of the room.
Harm and Animal looked at each other again. "Yeah...I think we're in the doghouse." Harm muttered.
Animal's response was drippingly sarcastic, "Ya think?" then he furrowed his brows in thought, "Hey..." he started, "Maybe...we can ask AJ to look into this...and see if he can figure out something."
"Ask me what?" Animal rolled his eyes.
"Sir." Harm said, "I found out that Palmer has Mac."
"What?!" was AJ's exclamation. "What the hell did that jarhead do now?"
"I have no idea, but from what Jack was telling me, she went down an alleyway and was abducted. Evidently Palmer was waiting to snag her to lure me out so that he could get a shot at us."
"Dammit, Mac!" AJ erupted. "I'm not leaving my niece...but I'm going to talk to my buddies in the teams."
"Sir?"
"Trust me with this, Rabb." AJ snapped. "I'll find someone to take Palmer out." he looked Harm straight in the face, "...and if I were you, I'd be more worried about my niece's uncle. Pray you don't piss him off." Harm looked confused.
"I think he means your girlfriend. Buddy." Animal muttered. "...and he's the uncle."
Very astute deduction AJ gave Animal a savage grin.
Harm took a long look at AJ's SEAL Team 2 t-shirt and figured that well, since Mac was so fond of telling him that she could take care of herself well, she'll just have to take care of herself. He wasn't going to go to the point of pissing off a Navy SEAL for hurting Lia.
After all, if AJ found out just exactly how close Lia and he were; including the nights they'd spent together while in lockdown; he was a dead man.
Somewhere in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains
Clark Palmer grinned to himself as he looked at the time on his watch. The minutes were ticking by relentlessly and he was certain that time passage was wearing on the Marine's emotional equilibrium. Frankly, he was certain that he was going to win this hand. He didn't particularly care if Mackenzie cracked. It was Rabb and Nakamura that he wanted. He could just discard the Marine if they didn't show. Whether she was alive or not when discarded was another story. Palmer loved the thrill of killing someone, legally with out being able to be touched – it was another reason why he'd joined the government service. Espionage didn't leave a lot of room for scruples and morality was just a human construction. They were all animals; their savage nature only veiled by a thin veneer of civility. In any case, if they were exposed, it would become a savage killing spree. Harm would like, no doubt, to kill him and so would Nakamura and hence the reason for the enjoyment of this cat and mouse game for Palmer.
He simply got off on it. There was nothing else greater than the thrill of the hunt; of toying with prey and then eventually removing it from existence.
Harm had gotten in the way of Palmer when he stumbled into a DSD project in the New Mexico desert and the NAVINSGEN Captain Nakamura had poked his nose into Crane where it didn't belong. Now both of them were on Palmer's personal hit-list. How nice that Rabb could provide me with another target as tempting and fun to chase as he was. Palmer grinned as he looked over at the sealed door that housed Mackenzie and his other target had just as many friends as Rabb did. What a chase this would be. He could go in and pick off a target and wait for Rabb to make his move and the fear and loathing that he would received was like a nectar of the gods. Palmer found that the hate and fear that was generated by his actions served to create even more of a high for him. After all, what good was prey if it wasn't afraid of the big bad wolf that went after it. It would provide no sport to just outright kill it.
It was now a waiting game to see just how long each side could out-wait each other. Besides, a human being could survive forty-eight hours or longer without food and water was free.
Mac, on the other hand, was trembling. It had been forty-eight hours since the abduction and she hadn't had a meal since she had been cast into this cell. There was a slot that a miniscule cup of water could be slid through once every four and a half hours to keep her from getting dehydrated. But she knew for an instance that if things went south for Palmer, she'd die in this cell. How was she going to get out of this mess? And thoughts of if only I hadn't decided to take the short-cut ran through her head; the what-ifs that accompanied the remorse in her mind of not paying attention to the situation around her. She would have never fallen into Palmer's trap.
Was Harm going to come and rescue her? After all, he was her hero; that time they had taken the bi-plane up and ended up in a firefight with poachers; he'd saved her and managed to get her bundled up in the plane to fly her to safety and eventually to a hospital to get her wounds treated. But at that time she was his only girl-in-port. Mac thought to herself. Now he has that red-headed bimbo who has him all tied up.
Mac regretted playing him off with Mic Brumby for all the times that she'd had. Not telling him about her husband (whom she'd conveniently forgotten to divorce), waving Dalton in his face for going to Annie for succor. Enjoying the attentions of Mic Brumby even if she hadn't very well led him on. If she hadn't thrown all those relationships up in Harm's face, Harm would still be on his Sarah Mackenzie leash and be chomping at the bit to come save her. But now that cursed Liandra Gracen who'd worked her subtle charms on him and made him fall in love with her. Now she had no-one who would come after her. She was all alone...and in danger with no-one to save her.
She was going to die...she was going to die in this cell.
For the first time in her life, Sarah Mackenzie introspectively viewed her life as a whole. What was she going to do? She slumped against the wall, feeling defeated, knowing that for everything that she had subjected Harm to in misguided retaliation or gloating she had to admit to herself that she had not told Harm about her marriage she forgot to annul, but he hadn't held that against her. She had to admit that his being with Annie wasn't an attempt to get back at her for being with Dalton – it was a conscious decision to not look back after she'd decided to take up with Dalton Lowne. Why had she done that anyways? Even though he hadn't liked Dalton he'd only had one bad thing to say about him. "The men you date" and frankly he was right; she had rotten taste in men. She hung onto the narcissists and borderline abusive ones. Harm had never even bothered to lower himself to compare himself to Dalton or to Chris. The only reason why Harm and Mic were at loggerheads was because in each of them they saw a mirror of themselves.
Harm genuinely saw Mic as a threat. They both had egos. Harm's because he was a naval aviator. They gave us gold wings because we're a cut above zoomies. And Mic was an Aussie. In Australia everything was either trying to kill you or had an attitude problem. Especially the kangas (a large marsupial) or emus (a large bird) which had one giant middle claw on their feet so they could give you one helluva middle finger (or toe) that could eviscerate you with one well-placed kick. You had to have an attitude and a sense of humor to survive an environment that tried every which way to kill you; from the snakes and spiders to the birds and even the trees.
Yes, you had to have a sense of humor to survive that which was one of the reasons why the Australians called the Bowie Knife an Aussie toothpick.
In fact, Mic was the only genuine threat to Harm which was why Harm actively took a dislike to him almost immediately. In fact he was the only one in his same class. So Harm was right in that he considered her other significant others lesser men which didn't take a whole lot to deduce.
Men only play nice when they don't perceive a rival male as a threat to their perception of dominance. And Mic and Harm each saw each other and went to General Quarters. If one made a hostile move the other decided to bear down and make ready to go to war.
But was Mac willing to concede her pride and prove that she could admit when she was wrong? For Mac, that was a tough call as most of her life meant that she was unwilling to bend or break, which was fine, well and good in a situation where she had to deal with abuse, a protective measure to keep from being hurt as she had while growing up but in a give or take situation such as a true relationship, such absolute adherence to rejecting a fluidly changing relationship and the catalysts that went into growing a stronger bond and unwillingness to change was not a recipe for a successful relationship. If Mac wanted a successful relationship, she had to learn to be flexible. Or expect to remain single.
Life was not a give that it would be all smooth sailing. It was a pity that it took being abducted to come to this realization.
She was startled from her reverie by the slot in the door opening and a bowl with bread and some meat got shoved through as well as a small cup of water. "Well can't have you starve this early in the game, can we?" Palmer's mocking voice greeted her beyond the slot. "Sorry I could provide the Hilton Experience. Can't waste money, I'm afraid."
Mac realized her chains were just long enough to reach the toilet in the corner but not long enough to allow her to reach past her side of the slot and Palmer only pushed the food bowl in far enough for her to grasp it with her fingers to pull it in before it fell on the floor outside. If she tried to pull forward the cuffs sank into her flesh invoking excruciating pain.
She retreated back to the wall gratefully gathering in the chains.
"I'm just waiting..." Palmer notified her with a rather satisfied smirk; his taunt visible in his eyes from what she could see through the viewslit covered in impact-resistant glass. "When you finish it, I need the bowl back...or you could opt to keep it and not eat again. Either way suits me just fine."
"I'll pass on not eating, Palmer. I'd appreciate another meal...at some point." She managed to say, congratulating herself on a steady voice. At any rate she was not going to give Palmer the satisfaction of seeing the fear in her eyes or letting slip an unsteady voice. She was going to make the bastard work for it.
"Haven't heard a response out of Harm or Captain Nakamura. I guess Harm is staying out of harm's way." He chuckled to himself. "After all...it's just too easy to poke fun at the ever so righteous Harmon Rabb Jr. Captain Nakamura on the other hand, his personnel file regarding Hill 175 makes me a little bit nervous."
"Yes, He's like you if you hadn't gone bad, Palmer. Consider yourself lucky you injured him or he'd do a number on you."
"Awwww...what a nice thing for you to say, Mackenzie." Palmer smirked again. "I'll keep that in mind seeing as how he's still more dangerous than Harm on any given day considering he did in the mole I sent to kill him. According to other spies, it was one shot to the head, one in the chest." He chuckled, "Hard to get good help nowadays. I'll make sure I'm wearing a ballistic vest when I go to meet him. And perhaps a good ballistic face-shield too considering he likes head-shots."
"He might go for your knees and thighs then which might sever an artery, Palmer. In fact how about you wear ballistic armor all over? Otherwise you might not be safe." Mac taunted him realizing that there was a fear there that even Palmer expressed that she could exploit.
"Yes, that might be an idea if it weren't for the fact that I have to be able to walk." Palmer grinned at her. "In fact...I think I might take a sniper with me. After all since that investigation of DSD has put a lot of good agents out of work. You might even say that they'd...kill...for work." he laughed. "Sorry...it's been a really good day. And well, seeing as to how they're running scared is just so enjoyable."
"You're crazy, Palmer."
At that Clark Palmer burst into sinister laughter...then stopped suddenly.
"I know."
