He easily picked her up. "Let's get you back-" he started.
"Could- do you think we could just sit here for a moment?" pleaded Maura, "It's such a nice afternoon..."
Surprising her again, James placed her on the sand and gestured to their security team to stand back a bit. They sat in silence for a moment, watching the waves breaking against the beach. Building her courage, she asked, "You said your piano - your gorgeous piano - is from your mother. Is... um... is she alive still?" She braced for a blast of cold rage from James, but he sat still, looking at the Mediterranean.
"No," he said finally. "She died about ten years ago."
"I’m sorry,” she murmured. James nodded briefly.
“Is your father still alive?" Maura persisted, "I mean, do you see him?"
She was cringing inside, waiting for him to sweep her up in an icy fury and return her to bed. "The Pastor," James said slowly, "has been cold and dead three years now."
It felt like a training exercise where Maura was once required to navigate a live minefield. "I'm guessing you and your father didn't get along. He was clergy?"
"Oh, yes," his hiss was sibilant with distaste. "His calling was his life."
Another fragment of the night before surfaced in her mind, of James repeating, "In the Lord's name, Amen," almost reflexively. Like muscle memory.
"Was that what you meant with the comment about their community duties?" Maura probed. His polar blue eyes looked down at her and she shivered, suddenly chilled to the bone. James picked her up and carried her back to the room.
"Can you dress yourself?" He placed her on the bench in front of the makeup and mirrors. Maura nodded and he left the room without another word. She was dressed and sitting placidly on the bed when he returned, doing that unnerving visual circuit of her face and body. "You look lovely, Pet," he praised. She’d donned the elegant, casual clothing he’d laid out. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, and James idly ran his fingers down her neck. "It does need something..." he pondered, pulling out the platinum choker again. Pulling her to a mirror, James stood behind her to fasten it. It was then the significance of all the expensive necklaces hit Maura.
Her jailer was collaring her.
Another black SUV took them to a private airfield just outside of Algiers. Maura shamelessly kept her nose pressed against the glass, enjoying all the color and cacophony of the city. James watched her, a faint smile on his face. "I've never seen you so... touristy, Pet."
Maura flashed him a little grin. "I love walking through new cities, but watching from the car window will do." She was so unselfconscious in her pleasure that simply watching her made him smile and chuckle too. At the runway, the company jet was waiting, several workmen loading supplies and equipment while a disheveled Nicholas Holbrook sat on a packing box, typing away on his laptop.
"Holbrook," greeted James as they emerged from the car, "everything in place?"
He nodded, shoving his glasses back up his nose. "But O'Connell wants a word." To her displeasure, James sat Maura near her former partner before leaving in search of O'Connell.
There was dead silence for several minutes, she stubbornly staring out at the airfield and he pretending to read on his laptop. "I'm sorry, you know," he blurted suddenly, "I- it's my job to find things that are hidden. It was an order. I had to."
The uncomfortable silence was back as Maura struggled to control her urge to flatten him with every ounce of strength in her body. Finally, she managed, "I haven't been able to see my sisters for ten years. Ten. If anything happens to my family because you exposed them to the Corporation?" She finally looked at him, pushing her face closer to his. "I willgutyou," she hissed.
Maura turned to see James watching them carefully. She stood as his arm slipped under hers, walking her up the stairs of the jet. Surprisingly, he didn't drug her this time, allowing her to stay awake while everyone boarded. To her relief, Fassell and Kingston were not among them.That must be what James meant by splitting into three teams,she thought,the question is, what is our team doing?
That was answered quickly as James introduced her to a red-headed giant. "Robert O'Connell, this is... my new bride, Maura MacLaren Pine.”
"PLEASURE," he boomed, shaking her slim hand vigorously. "ALWAYS LOVELY TO MEET ANOTHER OF THE IRISH."
Maura tried to suppress her giggle. "A pleasure indeed, Mr. O'Connell." He had the look of mercenary about him, but not the blank-eyed stare she was used to from their kind.
James was carefully hiding his amusement. "Mr. O'Connell is our mining explosives expert. He'll be heading up the dig."
"I see," Maura's eyes were sparkling as she watched the gigantic ginger swallow half a beer in one go.
"YOU'LL HAVE TO COME BY FOR A DETONATION OR TWO, EH?" O'Connell invited, "NOTHING MORE FUN THAN BLOWING SHITE UP!"
James looked with a mild sense of concern between the two as Maura eagerly nodded. "I'd love that, Mr. O'Connell! Thank you!"
Brow furrowed but still smiling, James urged O'Connell away, "Come along, you IRA miscreant, I need to introduce you to the equipment supervisor."
Maura pretended to fall asleep, thinking the rest of the group might speak more freely if they thought she wasn't aware. But nothing interesting met her ears until the announcement from the pilot that the jet was landing soon. "Pet," she could hear James purr into her ear as he gently pulled her upright and fastened her into her seat belt. "We're about to land, darling."
"So soon?" she asked in faux sleepiness. Looking out the window, she gasped. "Where are we?"
