This will be a multi-chapter story, but I'm not yet sure how many chapters. The rough setting is mid-season 2. It happens after the return from Mexico but diverges before the deployment to the Philippines. The latest episode was so devastating that I don't even know how to write about it, so here, have this instead.
And no, it is not a deathfic.
The girl whose picture Mandy puts up on the screen is named Ashli Mayers. She's 19 years old, blonde, and, in Sonny's estimation, irredeemably stupid.
The U.S. government made it abundantly clear that American citizens shouldn't be traveling to areas like the one where Ms. Mayers went to volunteer at a refugee camp made up mostly of war-orphaned children. She ignored that warning. Things turned out exactly the way literally anyone with common sense could have told her they would.
Sonny might be a little more understanding if she were a doctor or nurse, or, hell, even just a trained aid worker who could make a real difference, but she's not. She's just some idiot kid with no training who's now a hostage they're gonna have to risk their lives to rescue.
Clay is oddly quiet through the briefing. It's not exactly unheard of for the golden boy to disappear into his own head from time to time, so Sonny doesn't think much of it until they're sitting next to each other on the plane, he's complaining about Ashli-with-an-i and her stupid choices, and Clay suddenly turns to him and says, "Look, maybe she just wanted to make a difference."
It catches Sonny completely by surprise. His mouth moves, but no sound comes out.
"Maybe she wanted to make the world a little better place tomorrow than it was yesterday. Maybe she just wanted some kid to get to go to bed not hungry. To remember what a hug felt like." Clay's jaw clenches, like he's said more than he meant to. He looks down.
The pieces click together in Sonny's head.
Clay almost never talks about his grandparents, who they were or what they did, not even with the people he's closest to. It's easy to forget that he largely grew up in Africa … raised by missionaries who ran a home for orphans.
The few times Spenser has spoken briefly of his grandparents, the love and respect came through clear as day. Now, gnawing thoughtfully at a toothpick while trying to work out what to say next, Sonny wonders if Clay never talks about them because it makes it easier to pretend they're still over there somewhere, just waiting for their boy to drop by for a visit.
Clay sighs. "What she did was dumb. I get that. Clueless American with a savior complex going where she didn't belong and causing nothing but trouble. The way it turned out sucks for everybody, us included. But … she's also just a kid who wanted to do something good, and I'm sure she's paid enough for her mistakes by now. You know?"
"Yeah," Sonny drawls around his toothpick. "Reckon you're right. Ought to spend my energy bein' mad at the folks who really deserve it."
Privately, he ain't forgiven Ashli-with-an-i. He figures if she wanted to 'make a difference,' there were plenty of places in the world she could have done that without forcing other Americans to put their lives at risk trying to haul her dumb ass out of the fire.
Clay doesn't need to know that, though. Sonny keeps it to himself.
The village where Ms. Mayers is being held is thoroughly under the control of the extremist splinter group that snatched her from the refugee camp. The plan for getting her out, while viable, is risky and delicate enough to set Sonny's teeth on edge.
Mandy has reason to believe that the extremist group has gotten their hands on RPGs and possibly also SAMs, so the area is a strict no-fly zone. A helo will drop off Bravo and Alpha a safe distance away, out in the empty desert, where trucks will be waiting for them.
If shit hits the fan in the village, which it possibly might, the trucks will be their only way out, and they won't have air support to count on.
Most of the militants in the village belong to a single large extended family. Mandy and her people think they've identified a window during which many of the occupants, including the military-age males, will be gone to attend a cousin's wedding. Assuming Ms. Mayers doesn't get moved to a new location before then, Bravo and Alpha should have an opportunity to get her out with significantly less opposition.
The window isn't big, though. The teams are heading in during the middle of the night and should have until the following morning before everyone starts arriving back from the wedding. If all goes well, Bravo, Alpha, and the hapless Ms. Mayers will be long gone by then.
Sonny has been an operator long enough to know there's an entire universe of shitty possibilities living inside that 'if.'
The first portion of the mission proceeds exactly as planned. They make it into and most of the way through the village without waking up the neighborhood. Ms. Mayers is being held annoyingly near the exact center of town, which probably isn't by accident.
Bravo and Alpha move through silent streets and eerie, cramped alleys, sticking to the areas where they're least likely to be noticed. Soon enough, they reach the squat stone building where the captive is hopefully still located.
After quietly, efficiently eliminating Ms. Mayers's guards, the teams proceed inside and find the girl exactly where Mandy said she would be.
"Bravo One to HAVOC. I pass Stanton," Jason reports.
Emaciated, hollow-eyed, drowning in an oversized dress and hijab, the captive looks like a child. The resentment Sonny has been harboring twists into something different, something that stabs at his lungs from the inside. He crouches at the girl's side and softens his drawl, telling her they're U.S. military, that she's gonna be okay.
She stares at him with a haunted wartime gaze and doesn't respond.
Trent kneels at her other side, his voice very gentle as he asks if she's injured, if she can stand.
"Get her up. We've gotta move," Jason says bluntly. They pull her to her feet. She flinches at the touch, but their American-accented voices, their English words telling her she's safe now, finally seem to be getting through. When Trent asks if she can walk, she nods jerkily.
They get shot at as soon as they step back out into the alley.
Despite the operators' best efforts, the village apparently now knows they're here.
Sonny shoves the girl behind him as other members of Bravo and Alpha return fire, eliminating the three hostiles. There will be more coming.
The exfil route through those narrow alleyways that were so quiet on the way in? Going back in feels like entering a kill box.
Apparently Jason agrees, because he elects to send his snipers high - Ray to the east, Spenser to the west - to provide overwatch for the portion of the exfil route that has the most labyrinthine alleys, the poorest visibility. Once the alleyways open up into broader roads toward the edge of town, Bravo Two and Six will rejoin the others, and they'll all finish hauling ass to the trucks.
They make it maybe halfway through the narrow alleys, taking out occasional hostiles with the help of Spenser and Perry, before the girl starts stumbling and lagging behind. Sonny hoists her up and tosses her over his shoulder, knowing it'll freak her out but not having any choice. Once they get her the hell out of here and she's safe, then she can deal with whatever it is she's been through.
When they reach the designated rendezvous point, Spenser and Ray are nowhere in sight. Sonny's heart clenches with worry, but an instant later Ray comes skidding in from the east, tossing Jason a casual grin.
Seconds turn into minutes. Spenser doesn't show.
Sonny adjusts his grip on the trembling girl. Come on, Golden Boy, where are you?
Clay was still shooting, still covering them, no more than 10 minutes ago. What could have happened between then and now?
Jason starts to raise his hand to his radio, but Spenser beats him to it.
"Bravo One, this is Bravo Six. We've got a problem, boss. You've got incoming. Maybe 25, 30, heavily armed. Including RPGs."
For an instant, the members of Alpha and Bravo teams just stare at each other, because what the hell? Where did 30 heavily armed hostiles come from?
Then Jason keys his comms and says sharply, "Bravo Six, where the hell are you?"
There's a beat before Spenser answers. "Still in the tower. I'll cover y'all for as long as I can, see if I can't take out those RPGs. You're gonna need it."
"Get down here," Jason snaps. "Now. That's an order."
Another brief pause, then Clay says very calmly, "Sorry, boss, not gonna happen. Fucked up my ankle. Can't run, but I can provide cover fire. Y'all need to get moving ASAP."
Sonny starts to open his mouth. Before he can get the words out, Ray offers, "I'll get him, Jace."
Blackburn cuts in, voice grim. "Afraid Bravo Six is right. Y'all're about to get overrun. If you don't proceed to exfil now, you're not gonna make it out. There's no time to go back."
Jason clenches his jaw so tight it spasms.
"No," Sonny says. "NO."
Clay, his voice unsteady now, comes back on comms. "All call signs … Been an honor. Give 'em hell."
Sonny's pulse pounds in his throat. "Goddammit, kid," he begins, but Jason, shaking his head, grabs Sonny's arm and squeezes hard enough to hurt.
"Likewise, Bravo Six," Hayes says, allowing himself a single glance up toward the tower where their boy is alone and injured. Then he looks at the men around him and orders, "Move out."
Sonny has never in his life wanted more desperately to disobey an order, but he's a Navy SEAL, and there's a terrified girl trembling on his shoulder, and his job is to get her home alive.
Taking that first step away from Spenser rips Sonny's goddamn heart out. He takes it anyway, and then another and another.
He runs. Bullets spray the sandy dust near his feet, shatter walls at his back, but he runs and the hit doesn't come.
He runs and doesn't let himself feel anything. Not now. Not yet.
Spenser is as good as his word: he doesn't let the tangos get off a shot with the RPGs. That very well might be the only reason the teams make it to their exfil trucks without taking casualties.
They load up, ducking fire that pings off the metal and shatters windows. Sonny unceremoniously dumps the girl into a corner, barks at her to stay down, and turns to aim through the broken window. The truck lurches as Trent takes off. Sonny steadies himself, fires.
The tangos are just getting into a truck of their own. There will be pursuit. With the RPGs in play, that could be a problem.
Maybe sooner than anticipated: a tango with an RPG pops up in the bed of the truck, aims. Sonny yells a warning. Trent swerves, without knowing which direction he should be swerving.
At the last second, the tango's head snaps to the side and he falls forward. Sonny only just gets his eyes closed in time to avoid being blinded by the explosion that follows.
Sonny exchanges glances with Jason, and then they look back to where the truck that would have pursued them instead sits engulfed in flames.
"HAVOC, this is Bravo One," Jason reports breathlessly. "I pass Harper."
Sonny doesn't bother paying attention to HAVOC's response. He stares at the town receding into the distance. The remaining tangos are scrambling to get into vehicles that now have no real chance of catching up.
"Bravo Six?" Sonny says. "Clay?"
"Yeah," Spenser responds immediately. At the sound of his voice, Sonny's throat closes up with all the emotion he hadn't been letting himself feel.
"Look," he says, "I..."
"I know." Clay clears his throat. "I wish-"
He cuts off. There's a burst of noise, so loud that Sonny flinches and reflexively grabs at his ear, and then nothing but silence.
A moment later, HAVOC reports that Clay's signal has gone dark.
Sonny closes his eyes, leans his head back, and wishes he couldn't feel a damn thing.
Up next: A chapter from Clay's point of view.