It was almost impossible to believe anything violent ever happened in that room- the elegant furnishings and polished wood showing none of the blood spilled that night. Maura couldn't bring herself to look at James, there was no question that she had to betray him. Of course, she did. But she still felt that illogical shame sear through her. So she watched his hands instead, the long, graceful fingers idly toying with her knife. The blade that sliced Yagura's throat. The knife that had spilled blood from them both.
He handled it with delicacy, clearly remembering how very sharp it was. Two fingers raised and beckoned to her. This is it, then, Maura thought.
Stiffening her spine, her eyes rose to his and she nodded, walking to where he sat. James made a twirling motion with his hand, and brow furrowed, Maura obeyed, turning her back to him. To her shock, she felt him tugging at her bonds, cutting her free from them without a single nick. Shakily turning to face him, she rubbed her wrists, watching him. He was still contemplating her knife, spinning it on his palm, checking its balance.
His eyes suddenly raised to her, glowing with so much rage that she started shaking. His mouth was a slash in his white face, jaw clenched. James lifted the knife, and she let out a sigh, going to her knees, she'd take her end with some dignity. Keeping her chin high, Maura's sorrowful gaze locked on his. They stared at each other for some time, until he suddenly clenched his teeth and threw the knife violently, lodging it deep in the walnut paneling.
"Get her out of here!"
The two Corporation men were back, yanking her off her knees and out the door.
To her shock, Maura ended up in James’s office, locked in the connecting bathroom after they removed anything that could be used as a weapon. Pulling off the bandage on her stab wound, she sighed to see it broken open again, bleeding sluggishly. Using the suspiciously well-stocked first aid kit she found under the sink, Maura patched her injuries.
There was still no sound from outside in the office, but when she checked the door, a fist slammed back on the other side. Numbly, she shucked off her borrowed scrubs from the animal hospital and took a long shower. Scrubbing and shampooing mindlessly, she tried to remove Yagura's life's blood from her face, crying again as she remembered his fading eyes. She looked through the small closet and borrowed a shirt from James. With nothing left to do, Maura swallowed two aspirin from the medical kit and fell asleep on a towel laid on the floor.
Waking mid-morning when the sun shone directly into her eyes, Maura sat up, blearily surprised to be alive. She took two more painkillers from James’s stash and tried to limber up, stubbornly stretching against the screaming protest of her muscles. Looking for her bloody scrub pants, Maura was dismayed to find them gone.
Beautiful, she thought bitterly. Someone came in here and I didn't even stir? That was likely my only chance to escape. A pale green sundress and underwear lay in place of her borrowed scrubs. For one grim moment, Maura wondered if the outfit was borrowed from the Corporation whorehouse. But closer examination showed the tags were still on the outfit, which turned out to fit perfectly. Brushing her hair and teeth, she ran an exploratory tongue over her teeth, relieved to find them all intact. Her lower lip was swollen with a cut or two, some discoloration on her cheekbone. She was shocked the damage wasn't worse.
Squaring her shoulders, Maura knocked on the door leading to the office. "Hello?" Her voice sounded raspy from disuse.
"The door is unlocked," James replied, his voice frigid. Willing her hand to stop shaking, Maura turned the doorknob, walking out to her fate.
James was seated behind his desk, looking at his computer as if it were any other workday. He was shaved and wearing a fresh suit. Stepping further into the room, Maura stood awkwardly, not sure what to do. The eyes that finally lifted to examine her were the same Arctic blue of last night. "Sit down."
***
She did as she was told, crossing her legs and putting her hands in her lap. Those frigid eyes ran the now-familiar circuit of her face and body. Her face was surprisingly uninjured, but the contrast made the violent blue and purple bruises and cuts on her arms, back, and legs even more startling.
James looked back to his monitor, mouth twisting in a sardonic smile. "Morrighan MacLeod." He looked to see her expression set in stone, though the color was draining from her face. "Named after the Irish witch of strife and warfare, how appropriate. Raised in a Belfast slum by a vicious drunk of a father, mother was a prostitute," he continued, his voice dripping with contempt. "An auspicious beginning.”
Maura refused to rise to his bait, keeping expressionless. But she could feel the old sense of shame blazing down her back like a bucket of steaming water.
"Escaped your Belfast hovel with a swimming and academic scholarship to-" an expression of utter distaste covered his face, "to Oxford." Maura finally cracked, her spiteful smile infuriated him. To think his initial approval came from her lies about attending Cambridge... He recovered from his disgust and continued. "Recruited right out of Oxford by MI6. Two lovers in college." Her eyes narrowed. James looked up and a hateful smile turned up the corner of his mouth again. "The Jaguar Holdings mission is a deep cover. Aside from your two senior agents with the CIA, only one other person at MI6 knows where you are. This man." He pushed a photo over to her, Maura's eyes widened, recognizing the official she'd reported to on her Doomsday Cult assignment.
"He died this morning in a car accident." Her breathing became shallow, Maura looking like she was fighting to get enough air into her lungs.
"That was unnecessarily vicious, even for you.”
His chilly eyes looked at her again. "I dislike loose ends. Our interrogation of Kennedy was very thorough." James continued, "A brother and three sisters, though Jimmy's dead now, isn't he? Another sister, Meghan with a brain injury at Tavish Medical, a four-star long-term care center, quite expensive."
***
No matter how measured she tried to keep her breathing, Maura struggled to get a full lungful of air. "Is this going somewhere, Mr. Pine?"
He leaned back. "You provide for their care with your MI6 paychecks, extracurricular hacking projects, and I'm guessing your former position here at the Corporation. Abigail and Carin, doing well in Sixth Form at St. Martin's Prep. I'm sure you'd congratulate them if they knew you were still alive." His frosty gaze dropped to her chest, watching Maura's labored breathing. "When did your dear Da decide you were old enough for whoring?"
"About fourteen,” Maura said frigidly, “He wasn't happy when I declined the opportunity."
James idly played with a pen, "You could have just left," he paused, looking her over with distaste, "you murderous little bitch."
"Yes," she agreed, "and then he would have picked one of my little sisters, someone too young to fight back."
Looking her over, James could see her lips were white, struggling to get enough air. "I can only imagine your guilt, your younger brother Jimmy killed, trying to protect you." He idly clicked the cursor on the screen, scrolling down. "Your father beat him to death, yes?"
Maura could feel the darkness creeping in from the corners of her eyes, and she tried to force herself to stop the violent thudding of her heart, feeling like it was about to burst through her chest. James shook his head in mock sympathy. "The police in slums like that aren't really inclined to press charges for manslaughter. Too much work for trash like your family. So, you buried Jimmy and didn't do a thing about it, did you?"
She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to force her dimming vision to work again. "I- I tried, I made my Mum move, took the girls-"
