“Someone was gibbering like a gibbon.”
—Rashid al-Rahman
Seated in brown stuffed chairs around a bolted-down walnut table, Elena, Adara, Jamie, Jonesy and McMahon were flying over the Atlantic on one of Jamie’s Gulfstream G650 jets. The five of them were wearing whatever civilian clothes they could find on the plane—jeans and slacks, polo shirts and jogging clothes. They were on course for a private New Jersey runway near New York City.
“Danny,” Elena said, turning to McMahon, “We went there to rescue Rashid, and we find you. What the fuck were you doing there?”
McMahon stared at Elena a long moment. She was wearing khaki cargo pants and a black T-shirt. Even after a long hard op, forty-eight hours without sleep and with no makeup on, she looked terrific. He then caught his own reflection in a bulkhead mirror, and he couldn’t say the same for himself. Decked out in a white T-shirt, tan cotton slacks, gym shoes and no socks, he was a mess. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face drawn and haggard, his brown hair dirty and unkempt, and he looked like he’d lost thirty pounds. A professional performer, he had always been scrupulous about his appearance; now he couldn’t have cared less, which was weird. He wondered why he’d ever cared.
“You remember that show I did with Jules?” McMahon finally said, his voice hoarse and uncertain.
“Uh, yeah?” Elena said.
“Afterward, I found some crazy terrorist chick waiting for me in my hotel suite. She seduced and drugged me. Then three men in dark suits—partners of hers—kidnapped me out of my hotel room.”
“You okay?” Adara asked.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said softly.
He got up and headed toward the galley.
“Something wrong with Danny?” Jamie asked.
“I’ll say,” Elena said. “He won’t even look at Adara or me, not even when we talk to him. I’ve tried flirting with him. Nada. It’s like something’s not there.”
“Like he’s been mind-snatched,” Adara said.
“It’s like talking to an abandoned house,” Elena said.
“To a Dumpster,” Adara agreed. “You get no affect, no connotation, nothing.”
McMahon returned to the table. He had managed to liberate a water bottle.
“Where’s Rashid?” McMahon, taking a deep drink.
“Lying down,” Elena said. “You sure you don’t want to rest?”
“I can’t,” McMahon said.
“What’s wrong?” Adara asked.
“I keep seeing things I can’t unsee,” McMahon said.
“Wow,” Adara said. “Raza flipped your switch, didn’t she?”
“I never want to have sex again,” McMahon said.
“That’s not the Danny McMahon I know,” Elena said.
“Me neither,” Jonesy said. “We heard your ass outside the door. You was gittin’ some hot-ticket booty in there.”
“Hard-trade booty,” Jamie said.
“You’ll never know,” McMahon said, shaking his head and looking away.
“We missed grabbing her by seconds,” Jonesy said, “but we heard you and her going at it.”
“That was one fever-driven fuckfest,” Elena said.
“I heard you two in the other room,” Rashid said, joining them at the table. He wore black jogging pants, a gray athletic T-shirt and running shoes. “It sounded like you were banging a gibbon.”
“A gibbon?” McMahon asked, confused.
“Someone was gibbering like a gibbon,” Rashid explained.
“More like a chimpanzee on crack,” Adara said.
“What was all that yowling about?” Jamie asked. “You weren’t mounting a mountain lion, were you?”
McMahon looked away, his eyes distant and unfocused.
“You sounded like a chain saw,” Elena explained.
“It was like fucking Death,” McMahon finally said, empty-eyed, emotionless.
Adara snapped her fingers in front of McMahon’s eyes. They didn’t blink.
“You really are an idiot,” Adara said, studying McMahon intently.
“I hear a lot of that lately.”
“What the hell did they do to you?” Elena asked.
McMahon just stared at her, unresponsive.
“And why did they do it?” Elena asked. “Why did they kidnap and torture you?”
“I’m starting to understand,” McMahon said, “that there are people in this world who don’t like me.”
“My friend,” Elena, said, patting his arm and giving him the kindest smile she could muster, “you are richly and widely reviled.”
“But what brought you guys to the safe house, if you didn’t know I was there?” McMahon asked. “What’s going on?”
“Tell him,” Jamie said. “Like it or not, we’re all in this together.”
“Why not?” Adara said. “After what you’ve gone through, maybe you deserve to know. Rashid, tell us what you said back in the chopper.”