They both froze as Fassell's voice came bellowing down the hallway. She dove for the bed, trying to find the same position she'd slept in. Nicholas threw himself into a chair and tried to look sleepy, rather than terrified.
Not enough time…was all she could think as the door opened.
***
"I can't tell you how you've disappointed me." Kingston was pacing majestically around her beaten and gouged Second in Command.
Spitting out some blood, James gave a rusty chuckle. "Kingston, really. The tone of deep disappointment? I’ve heard better. Truly, don't try."
"You'd give up a multi-billion-dollar global corporation for some whore?” she spat back, “It's like I have no idea who you are."
"While we're discussing irrational decisions, you'd go with the lunatic who nearly torched the operation over me? At least I'm sane, Morgan."
"Sane?" Kingston threw over a table, glasses falling and shattering on the floor. "You killed our selection and put in your own choice as president of the fucking country, James! Not a sane decision!"
"Nezzar would have led Algeria through another bloody civil war and you know it, Kingston! He was unstable and stupid."
"Who. Fucking. CARES, Pine?" Kingston was screaming now, throwing everything she could find in random directions, silver hair falling from her elegant chignon. "As long as our clients were happy, who fucking cares who dies?"
Watching her with a bored expression, James let out a sigh. "Really? A tantrum? I thought we'd agreed Fassell was the lunatic in this scenario."
"At least Third in Command remembers who he works for!" Kingston hissed, "I thought of you as a son!"
Even realizing at the moment that it was ill-advised; James threw back his head and laughed. "You have no idea how badly your fantasy mother/son scenario can end." His laugh was cut short as Kingston hit him across the face and stormed from the room. Spitting out more blood, he forced himself to walk through the plan again, checking over and over with all the alternatives if needed.
The goal was to divert his worried thoughts from Maura, but he was unsuccessful. James trusted O'Connell with his life, and he knew the gigantic Irishman would give his own if needed to protect her. Nicholas could find them a thousand untraceable ways to get them out of Algeria if needed. But maybe it hadn't come to that.
He winced as he remembered Maura's hurt expression as he left. He’d been cold and dismissive. And after resolving to not treat her that way any longer. She was still so young. She might be a government operative - and given her performance at the Corporation - a very good one. But she'd seen so little of the real world outside of the absolute blacks and whites of the government script, and- sighing, James corrected himself. She’d grown up the daughter of a drunk and a prostitute and still protected her brother and sisters. She’d killed for them. His new wife knew far more about the real world than he had at her age, safe in his expensive boarding school.
James smiled, spitting out more blood out on the stateroom’s priceless oriental rug. He would be back with his Maura-girl by tomorrow, he just had to follow the plan.
***
Maura forced herself to breathe slowly, her heart galloping from the caffeine, and now thrown into overdrive with the appearance of Fassell. He was already growing an erection in that expensive suit, simply from seeing her helplessness. "Good evening, my little flesh doll. God, I can hardly wait to play with you. If I break you, I can always get you mended, baby."
He looked over at a visibly nauseated Nicholas. "Get the fuck out. Send two men from my detail down to stand outside the door. No one bothers us tonight, right, baby doll?" Nicholas sent her a helpless look of apology before walking out, shutting the door behind him.
Rubbing his hands together, Fassell grinned at her. "Let's play," he said as he took off his coat and tie, wrapping the latter around his fist.
Chapter 28: I've Been Waiting for This for a Long Time, Baby…
In which the Corporation’s Third in Command goes to his just reward.
As Maura watched Fassell stalk over to her, she remembered James's taunt from their fight in their hotel room- it felt like years ago.
"Morrighan, darling. You really need to learn self-control." He'd pulled painfully to his knees. "You are much better than I in close combat. But you let your anger rule you."
Don't let him set you off, she lectured herself, trying to ignore her heart, currently trying to pound through her chest. Do not let him make you angry. Be like James, you can do this.
The thought of James, tied up somewhere on this boat felt like a punch to her heart, but Maura made herself focus.
"I've been waiting for this for a long time, baby." Fassell smiled down at her - almost tenderly - as he wound his tie into a noose. Whipping it over Maura's head, he pulled just enough to make her pay attention. "I can't believe how much fucking work you turned out to be, but I'm going to make sure you make it up to me. Now, I've made some plans..."
Maura stiffened as he reached over to grab a covered tray. Torture instruments? Needles, pliers?
Fassell flipped off the cover with a flourish to show a large array of makeup. Reaching over, he yanked her to a sitting position, and she made herself as much dead weight as possible to make it harder. Finally arranging her the way he liked, he grinned at her again. "They never let us play with dolls when we were boys - makes you a sissy - but I've been hard all day, thinking about my walking, talking flesh doll." He yanked her a little to the left and arranged her hair away from her face. "Well, maybe not walking, right?" Fassell chuckled fondly as he opened some face powder. "So, I'm going to make you my perfect little doll. You should wear makeup more often, MacLaren. You're just as pretty as a princess, aren't you?" He gave her a sharp pinch on her cheek as she placidly watched him. "But I like my dolls to look a little dirty, whoreish. And since you've been spreading your legs for fucking Pine, I'm sure you have all the tricks."
Maura carefully tensed and flexed any body part hidden under the sheet that she didn't think he'd catch, trying to keep the blood moving. Her desire to explode off the bed and beat Fassell to death was excruciating, but James's mocking voice came back to her: "You are much better than I in close combat. But you let your anger rule you."
