A Worthwhile Trip to Afghanistan
Author: Tulip
Rating: NC-17
Category: Romance
Spoilers: Up through Critical Condition
Disclaimer: They ain't mine. They belong to CBS, Bellisario, etc. I'm just borrowing them and not for purposes of profit. Y no tengo dinero.
Feedback: Sure
Archive: Tell me where
Notes: Sorry this has taken so long, I've had other story ideas come to me, and I've been working on something rather lengthy. I need a break from that story, so, here you go!
I have a lot of dreams after my phone call with Clay, and, although I can't remember them, I wake up worried. I'm half distracted while I get ready for work, and when I first get into the office, worrying about what Clay's doing, and how he's handling everything. I have to force myself back into the game when we get called into a meeting with the SecNav. He's sending Harm and I to Afghanistan, ostensibly to investigate a misdirected air strike called in by Gunny, but really to keep an eye on Clay. I hope we actually get to see him. I mean, that I get to see him, but I can't tell him we're coming, or why, so it'll probably end up being a chance meeting, if we see each other at all.
I feel only slightly bad about the fact that I can't forewarn him. He's done it to us enough, but, anyway, I don't anticipate finding anything bad. I know the SecNav doesn't trust him--really it's an issue with the CIA--but he's working for the same goal as we are--to keep people safe. I think there's just an increased level of paranoia, because the Navy is the apparent target of Khabir's plan. I doubt Clay's got some elaborate plan to smoke him out, which would involve putting Naval personnel at risk, because, frankly, if Clay knew where the hell Khabir was, he'd just pick him up, like he did Mustafa. And if he knew what was going on, he'd be in the process of stopping it, if he hadn't already.
We head out, and hook up with Gunny almost immediately after landing in country. When he gives us the story of the air strike, I immediately start wondering about Fareeza. Afghans are prone to change loyalties at the drop of a hat, and, even if she had been coerced into putting friendlies into the line of fire, the fact might still remain that she was complicit in the bombing of some of her own people. And, if that's true, she would have betrayed Gunny in the process. I really hope it's not true, but I'm not going to hold my breath.
Harm and I take off for the village, and he starts to get all macho. Of course, when we stop at a roadblock, and the "guard" asks for a "fee" for passage, Harm pulls out a whole roll of cash, which immediately doubles the prices of passage. It takes everything in my power not to laugh while the guy's still standing there.
Once we're on our way again, I immediately seize the opportunity, since Harm had just been regaling me about how great it is to be in a "man's country" and how women would just come in, eventually, and screw it up. "Even I know not to show the whole roll," I inform him. As I'm laughing, I'm reminded of something else. "Your little performance just now reminds me of that time Webb conned you into paying for his mother's $500-a-plate luncheon." I start laughing.
"Mac! Anyone could have made that mistake."
"Oh, come on. You pretend to be so wise in the ways of the world, but, really, you can be such a rube, sometimes."
"Whatever!" he laughs.
We don't get good news from the village, and we broach the possibility with Gunny that Fareeza may have been helping Khabir, since we're certain they were both there. Gunny's not happy. In fact, he's very defensive, and we promise to keep an open mind. It doesn't look good, and it's probably a good thing he gets called off on an assignment, to take his mind off all of this. Harm and I go on our way, trying to follow the trail to either Fareeza or Khabir, since, regardless of why Fareeza is with him, it seems they're together. Harm and I keep teasing each other, mostly out of boredom, although it's really nice to have my best friend back. I stop paying attention to the road for a second, in order to further mock him.
"Watch out!" He yells, and I swerve to avoid a goat, driving straight into a minefield in the process.
Oh, my God. Harm gets thrown from the Humvee, and I'm so scared. He's conscious, or regains consciousness, I'm not sure which, and sits up. I check the tires, and two of them are shredded. Shit! Why wasn't I paying attention? I should have been paying attention. We canvas our options, and, without fully vetting any one of them, Harm decides to get up and walk back to the Humvee. I tell him not to, but he's never listened to me before, I don't know why he'd start now. My heart is in my throat when he starts walking, and it sinks into my stomach when I hear a mine click under his foot.
I tell him he's lucky, that it's a pressure mine. He doesn't see how that makes him lucky, until I point out that he could be dead by now. Of course, he tries to play hero, and tells me to go get help. Like he's going to be able to stand on that mine all night. I start thinking out loud, and figure, if we can replace his weight for long enough, we'll have time to get away. My thinking out loud has everything to do with Raiders of the Lost Ark, but it seems like a good idea. Or, perhaps I should say, I can't think of a better one, right now. I look around and find the ammo box we have with us. He's skeptical, but we're not coming up with something better. It won't replace all of his weight, but, with any luck, it will "trick" the mine into giving us a couple of seconds to get clear.
I jump down off the Humvee, and he freaks out. I could have jumped on a mine, I guess, but he did the same thing to me, when he started walking, so I don't feel too bad about it. I get the ammo box on top of the mine, and lean my weight onto it. We bicker about who's going to go behind the Humvee first, and I accuse Harm of being too macho. He points out, quite rightly, actually, that he has a better chance of getting clear from a standing position on top of the ammo box, facing the Humvee, than I do from my crouching position, with my back to the vehicle. I relent and take cover, after he's standing on the box. He takes off, and I breathe a huge sigh of relief when he jumps almost on top of me, and he's still breathing.
Figuring the steep hill that begins where our Humvee rests is too steep to be mined, we get our bearings and start hiking back to base camp. It becomes necessary to stop for the night, and, just as I think we're going to end up having to spend the night curled up together, which, although he's right about the need to share body heat, I'm not all that enthusiastic about, we have to take cover when bombs start to fall.
As soon as we can see well enough to walk, we continue our journey back to camp. We're met by some soldiers who've been looking for us, and they drive us to the bomb site. Clay's there, and, although I'm really happy to see him, and I'm tempted to jump into his arms, we need to keep things all business. He makes a little joke about not embarrassing us by asking us how we got caught in his air raid, but I can tell he's covering at least a little bit of worry. They find Fareeza, and, unfortunately, she's dead by the time we get there, although she gave her story to one of the soldiers prior to dying. Clay surprises me by quoting a song lyric in Spanish, with an obvious amount of meaning to him behind it, and I vow to ask him details about it later.
We get busy trying to piece together what happened, and initial reports that Khabir was probably among the dead, turn out to be false. Outwardly, Clay's taking it much more philosophically than I would have thought, when Terri tells him that Khabir apparently severed his own finger. Although he seems to be taking it okay, remarking that it fits Khabir's profile, I notice him shooting me little looks. I really want to talk to him, and make sure things are really going okay. I just get the feeling he needs me.
All of us are staying in the Marine encampment tonight, and, after I finally shake Harm and Terri, I make some adjustments to my attire and head to Clay's tent. I can see a little light on. "Knock, knock," I say. Clay rips open the flap and looks really exasperated, until he sees it's me. He's on the satellite phone. "Can I stay?" I mouth. He nods.
"Son of a BITCH. All right, I'll head there tomorrow sometime. ... Because it's after dark, right now. Plus, you know we're dependent on... Right. You'll have everything I need waiting for me? ... Yes, everyone in the entire damn country is looking out for that truck. Right. Bye." He rolls his eyes, and puts the phone down. "Sorry, Sarah. It's really good to see you. I apologize for not saying a proper hello before," he says, coming over to give me a brief, chaste kiss on the lips.
"Hello to you, too," I say, taking his hand and leading him to his cot. I switch off the light on the way. I push him down, gently, and crawl on top of him. Putting my hands on either side of his head, I kiss him, deeply. He immediately opens his mouth to me, and moans. I'm instantly wet with wanting him, and I don't waste any time, or give him any opportunity to tell me "no," before I'm pushing his shirt over his head, as I kick off my boots, which I had tied in such a way that they could be kicked off. When I've got him naked from the waist up, I move my lips from his mouth to his chest, and start sucking on his nipples, as I unbutton my uniform jacket. I had taken off my t-shirt and bra before coming over here. I feel his hands at my waist, undoing my pants, then pushing my jacket off. His hands go to my breasts, and he starts pinching my nipples. He's being a little rough, but that's okay. I shift so that I can undo his pants, and he pulls me back up towards his head, so that he can take one of my nipples in his mouth. He sucks hard, and bites down on it a little. I bite my lips to keep from making too much noise, and, once I get his pants undone, I shove my hand inside.
Clay pushes my pants and underwear down over my hips, and I have to get up, to get them off. It takes me maybe thirty seconds, and I pull his pants down far enough for what we need right now. When I'm back on the cot, I continue to stroke him. He shoves two fingers inside of me, pinches my nipple with the other hand, and ravages my mouth. I'm moving my hips into his hand, and I realize he's more than ready, so I pull his hand off my mound and put it on my chest, then sink down onto him.
"Oh, Sarah," he whispers, as I begin moving up and down on top of him. He keeps his hands at my breasts, and I keep moving faster. "So close," he whispers. I move my hand down between us and stimulate myself, and him. He moves his hands down to my hips and thrusts up into me as hard as he can. I wish we could roll over so I could take him deeper, but we'd end up on the floor. I'm writhing around wildly, grinding down on him, and I'm pretty sure he's going to leave marks on my hips, as tight as he's gripping them. "Ah...mmm," he says, muffling his loud "Ahh." He pinches my nipples hard as he climaxes. That sets me off, and I know I make some kind of muffled noise, as I come.
I move forward until I'm stretched out completely on top of him, and he puts his arms around me and squeezes me tight. "Oh, Sarah, thank you. You don't know how much I needed that. Needed to feel you, I've missed you so much."
"I needed that, too, I needed you," I say, kissing him. "Are you okay? You haven't sounded like yourself the past few times I've talked to you."
"I'm not, really. I'm incredibly frustrated by this whole thing. How long do you have?"
"I can pretty much stay all night, I think, although I should try to sneak back before dawn. I don't think Harm'll give us any trouble, although he doesn't know where I am."
"It's kind of cold. Let's get dressed and talk." I get up, and help him up, and we get ourselves put back together, although he takes his boots off. We sit side by side on the cot, which is really the only surface in the room, and I just listen to him talk. He tells me about the prisoner in Afghanistan, that he had to order to have killed in the hopes that he'd talk, and how relieved he was when the guy caved. "I know they would've killed him, and I've never had to do that before. Although I know we needed the information, and I don't particularly feel sorry for any Taliban, or al-Qaeda, I'm really not comfortable with those tactics."
I take his hand. "I'm glad you're not comfortable with it, I don't think you should be, but I have to say, I think sometimes it's justified. I don't like it either, it forces us to sink to their level. I'm just glad the guy started talking."
"No kidding. I really don't know what I would have done if he hadn't. Since then, it's been one frustration after another. It's like we get close, and he slips away. I'm pretty sure he's after the Seahawk carrier group, but we don't know what he has, although it's gotta be big, with the money he's spending. I think our timetable is starting to get short, and I'm really worried that, as many people as we have on this, we're not going to be able to stop it. I mean, what kind of a man cuts off his own finger like that? He's completely sociopathic. I was thinking, before Mustafa killed himself, that maybe I could try to work an angle with him concerning Khabir. That if I had, we might have found out what's going on. Now, I'm not so sure. I'm thinking Mustafa was as driven as Khabir. I think that's why he killed himself, probably." I just stroke his hair as he talks.
"So, Gunny told us about that warlord, the one with the opium, that you promised him weapons, but are sending him folding chairs."
"Working with guys like that disgusts me, although you have to use tactics like that. But, information can be bought and sold, and we're willing to pay for it. And, I know we need it. Speaking of Galindez, how's he holding up? I think this whole thing with Fareeza has hit him kind of hard."
"I didn't realize you were up to speed on that. He's doing okay, all things considered."
"He's been with me since we left that opium warlord's place. He tried to get me to call off the airstrike because of Fareeza. I made the argument, but I don't know what he was thinking, believing we might call it off for one person. I don't think he was even considering the larger consequences. I'm really sorry she's dead, though."
"What was that song lyric all about? Or do you not want to talk about it?"
"I had a similar experience in Guatemala. The woman was a folk singer, and she used to sing me really sad songs, and that was a lyric to one of them. What exactly happened is classified, but, suffice it to say, I know exactly what he's going through."
"Oh, Clay, I'm so sorry."
"It was a hard lesson to learn, and one I learned well, until you came along." He kisses my hand.
"Yeah, we'll have to not work together. I don't know who'll get between you and Harm, though!"
"Speaking of Harm, how DID you two end up in the middle of my air raid?" Using his fingers, he finds and then kisses the cuts on my face. I tell him the story, and he says, "Thank God you're both okay. You could have been killed." I tell him then about the roll of cash, and he laughs. "Sarah, I'm so glad to see you. I thought I would end up going blind if I didn't see you soon." It takes me a second to figure out what he's trying to say.
I laugh. "You know the nuns were lying about that, right? I haven't had any loss of vision."
"Sarah MacKenzie, you're turning me on."
"Is that how you got your call sign? Sexy Beast."
"Oh, God, I should have known Galindez would tell you guys. No, no one knows how much I, uh, think about you."
"How much do you think about me?"
"A lot," he says, kissing me again.
"I think about you a lot, too." He starts kissing my neck and unbuttoning my shirt. "I especially think about you doing things along those lines."
"You do, huh?" I nod, pull his lips to mine, and slide my hands under his shirt. He gets my shirt open and starts touching me everywhere. He's much more gentle this time, and we take our time getting each other aroused. Clay gets up to turn up the kerosene heater he's got in here. He takes his shirt off, and I pull him down on top of me this time. He immediately scoots down on the cot a little so he can concentrate on my breasts. He's sucking, kissing, licking, and nibbling at them, all over, before he concentrates on my nipples. The things he's doing to me with his mouth are making it hard for me to keep quiet.
He eventually kisses and sucks his way down to my waistband, and he takes my pants and underwear off. He seems to disappear, and then pulls me down, to where he's kneeling on the ground. I feel his breath on me, and then the little kisses he plants on my inner thighs as he puts my legs over his shoulders. He places kisses on my sex, then enters me with his tongue. Oh my God. He laps up my juices, and I start grinding myself into his face, I think. He finally moves his mouth up to my clit, and slips two fingers inside me. He thrusts them in and out as he plays with my clit with his tongue. I know I'm thrashing around on the cot, but I can't really express myself verbally, because I don't want my cries to bring any kind of interruption. When he starts flicking my clit with his tongue, really fast, and moving his fingers with the same speed, it sends me over the edge. I bite down on my hand as I arch my back and thrust myself further into his face.
As I lay there, catching my breath afterwards, Clay moves my legs off his shoulders. I'm vaguely aware that he finishes undressing. I sit up, and take hold of his cock while he's still standing. I stroke it a few times before taking him into my mouth. I release him and run my tongue up and down the vein underneath as I gently stroke his balls. He seems to be pretty much holding himself upright by holding onto my shoulders. I lick all the way around the tip, then take him in all the way again, making sure he feels my tongue, before I start sucking. I move my mouth and up down his length, and sweep my tongue across the tip every so often. I keep my hand on his balls, the entire time, gently touching the soft skin there. I can feel Clay get further out of control, as he starts thrusting his hips a little quicker. I'm fully prepared to continue until he's spent, but he stops me.
"Sarah, you've just fulfilled a number of fantasies for me, but I want to be inside you."
"Okay," I say, grabbing his hand and laying back. I pull up my knees to make it a little easier, since this stupid cot is so small. I swear, doing this in a bed is going to seem kinky, by the time we finally get to that point. Clay crawls carefully over me, so we don't tip over. He teases my folds with his cock, and I end up yanking his hips towards me, essentially pulling him inside. He doesn't move right away, and I finally shove my hips up into him a couple of times to get his attention. He chuckles, then kisses me as he starts moving in and out of me. We start off slowly, and then move faster and faster, as we get closer and closer to climax. I move my legs up as high as I can to try to take him in as deeply as possible. I'm clutching at his back and his ass, and he moves his hand between us. He presses down hard on my clit, and that's all it takes. I shout my release into his neck, and he just thrusts a few more times. When he comes, he grabs my head and shouts into my mouth before kissing me.
We lay there, panting and kissing, for another half hour or so. I realize just how late it is. "Are you leaving here tomorrow?" I ask.
"Yeah. You?"
"We have a few things to finish up, before we head to the Seahawk. I don't want to leave you, but I should go back to my quarters so we can both get some sleep."
"Five more minutes," he says, kissing me again. Five minutes turns into ten, and we finally break apart. He brushes my hair back off my face. "You know I love you, right?"
"I know. And I love you. Come back soon. I'd like to do this in a bed at some point."
He laughs, "It would make things a little easier." He kisses me again.
"And, Clay, be careful."
"I will. You too." He kisses me again, then gets up off the cot, and helps me up. We get dressed, and kiss a little bit longer at the door to the tent. I sneak out and wash up a little before I head back to my tent and collapse. Harm wakes me up really early, and I haven't had nearly enough sleep. He gets us moving, and I'm glad Clay and I said our goodbyes last night, although I would have liked to see him again.
We continue tracking the truck Khabir had been in, and Harm and I seem to have our old friendship back. We're bickering, but about stupid things, like how we'd like to die. Not that that's stupid, necessarily, but we're not actually fighting. We're joking around a lot, but we quickly sober up when we find the truck, and the dead driver. It gets worse when we find an entire village full of people dying of radiation poisoning. Khabir's obviously got a dirty nuke, but no one knows where it is. That, plus our potential exposure to toxic levels of radiation, and, now, generalized worry for Clay, has me a little
anxious. They ship Harm and I pretty much straight back to the Seahawk for testing.
It turns out they were putting together other pieces of the puzzle in DC and Pakistan, and, by the time we get checked out of sick bay, it's only too clear what's going. Bud had successfully changed the rules of engagement, and then had to scramble to expand the perimeter when they found out the Russian sub was carrying a dirty nuke. By the time that's done, the Watertown is given the okay to destroy the sub. It does, but not before it releases the torpedo. They call Harm into action, and he runs off. I swear, I am NOT comfortable when he gets in the cockpit of an F14. Bad things tend to happen, and my eyes about bug out of my head, when I see him being chased across the bow of the carrier by the dirty nuke. It fizzles out before it can blow him up, and I don't think I've even breathed for last ten minutes. I'm caught between hugging him and punching him when he gets back on deck. I swear, I'm really glad I'm not this close to Clay's operations. If he was doing anything even a third as dangerous, I don't think I could handle it. And I'm sure he's taking big risks.
We're on the Seahawk for a few more days, finishing up reports and the like, and I talk with Clay briefly on the phone, mostly because I happened to be on the bridge when he called to talk to the captain. The CIA's not happy with the Navy getting the bulk of the credit, and people are starting to ask how it was that Khabir wasn't stopped before the torpedo got fired. Everyone's taking heat for that, but I gather the press has been good so far, because of the "save." I'm sure it's not clear back in the States just how close we all came, actually. Anyway, Clay thinks he'll be home within the next month. I'm happily getting my stuff packed up, so I can get going, and I'm so excited about getting home, myself, that even Harm ripping two of my books in half doesn't bother me.
As we're getting close to the time of departure, though, we're told that Bud stepped on a landmine. I feel like I've just been punched, and I can tell that Sturgis and Harm feel the same way. We call the Admiral and he orders two of us home. Sturgis immediately offers to go back, but Harm and I can't decide what to do. We both end up staying, and, although I'm nervous about what the Admiral's going to say, I can't imagine that he thought it would happen any other way. I know I'm making excuses, and I just hope the Admiral calms down.
Harm and I get a ride to the Guadalcanal and keep vigil with Petty Officer Coates. Thank God she has a good head on her shoulders, and made that helo take off with him, despite the fact that it wasn't medically equipped. We're all trying to remain as calm as possible, but I swear, I kind of want to smack the doctor. She doesn't know Bud, and she's giving up on him. About a million things run through my head when she comes out to tell us he died. It hasn't even sunk in yet, when someone comes out to tell her that, somehow, he seemed to jump-start himself again. All three of us seem to take turns crying, at various points in the day, although Harm doesn't really break down until we find out that Bud's very likely going to make it. I get a note delivered by a petty officer a little after that. It's a message from Clay, telling me he heard what happened, how sorry he is, and to contact him through Langley if any of us needs anything at all.
As soon as we're sure Bud's out of the woods, and the Admiral has read us both the riot act, Harm and I hightail it back to the States. All hell has broken loose in DC, and he needs us both back. The Admiral shifts some personnel around to get the Seahawk a JAG, until he can assign someone permanent. He also tells us that that we're likely to have a new SecNav.
I'm very, very happy to see my bed when I get home, although I really wish Clay were here with me. I guess he will be soon enough. I sleep like the dead, and, when I get into work the next day, the Admiral calls us into our office, tells us calmly he understands why we both stayed to sit vigil for Bud, but to think before we ever do something like that again. Then, moving on, he asks about Bud. I think the Admiral feels a little guilty about what happened, although it's not something anyone could have foreseen. The Admiral looks at me, and he thinks he realizes that I know what he's thinking about. He essentially shuts down, then assigns us some cases, and dismisses us.
I get a call at work a few days later from Clay telling me that he's been cleared to come back, as soon as the hearings on the Hill are over.
"Listen," I say, "Don't forget about my plan for coming to get you from the airport."
"I haven't forgotten," he says, in that tone of voice that makes me get all tingly. I remember that he asked me to let him know when he used it, so he'd know.
"The way you just said that, Clay, that's the tone of voice that turns me on."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. And I'm going to go shopping tomorrow, for just the perfect thing to wear to meet you when you come back."
"I hope the Senate makes its decision fast. I really want to come home."
"Why can't you?" As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I know the answer. "Because, this way, you're unavailable to testify."
"Exactly." I hear some noise in the background. "I have to go, I'm really sorry. I'll let you know as soon as I have flight information."
"Okay, be careful."
I really need him to be home. I want to have a relationship with someone I can see more than when we happen to be in the same geographic area. I know it's not his fault, and I'd do the same thing in his position, but it's getting a little old. I have no intention of breaking up with him over it, but I'm worried that, eventually, it's going to end up pushing us apart. I hope he'll be back for a long while.
