Charlie Mike
By: MusketeerAdventure
Summary: "Shake it off. Not so hard." Those last words cut deep for Clay as the team loses a member of BRAVO. These are missing scenes from the episode, 'Say Again Your Last.'
The pain was vast, first digging deep into his breastbone, and then spreading through his chest like molten lava. He knew he shouldn't stop, but curiosity got the better of him as he surveyed the darkened street; and felt beneath his vest for the origins of such agony. Finding no such origin, he gave up the search. There were no choices here. No chance to lie down and consider what might have happened. He had to keep moving; reconnect with his team.
He found that if he held in his breath, took short; quick intakes of air he could keep the worst of it at bay. "Mind over matter.", Adam would say – so he kept himself in motion.
Clay was alone here, and scanned the street for his friends. Where could everyone have gone? Why had he been left behind? Or had he somehow become separated and was lost?
As he hugged his weapon close to the vest, he winced as the pain flared into a massive enduring ache. Rubbing at his chest he wondered if the pain was phantom; a part of his imagination – some kind of anxiety produced trauma.
Inspecting his chest again, he saw no sign of injury – but knew there must be one…physical or otherwise.
Dismissing the idea that he might be going crazy, realization hit him. He knew this street. He knew where he was. He was in India – Mumbai, to be specific. Not far from the American Embassy and not that much further from the University – where students and teachers were being held hostage.
That's where they were headed when….when…when what? Spinning around slowly, Clay raised his weapon to help scope the area. There was no one here. How was that even possible?
Where had BRAVO gotten to? It was dark out here on the street. Except for the occasional working street lamp- there was nothing to help illuminate the area. Depending on his NOG, he could see through a glow of green the abandoned vehicles lined up tight on the sides of the street – dotting the way as he walked. He could hear his own footsteps crunch on asphalt and broken glass, but nothing else.
In the distance he could make out the flashing red lights of emergency vehicles – but their sirens were silent. No voices. No sounds of fleeing residents, scurrying to find a safe place to wait out the terror. This whole scenario sort of reminded him of that Twilight Zone episode Sonny made him watch, of the soldier running through the streets of an empty town…slowing going mad. He never admitted it to Sonny, but that episode scared the shit out of him.
Resolved, Clay knew he couldn't just stand out here alone. He would have to make his way to the University. Surely he would find BRAVO there. That's where the mission was…so that's where they would be.
Speaking into his comm he called out in a hushed urgent tone, "Brave One, this is Bravo Two, do you copy?" Receiving nothing, but dead air he tried again, "Bravo One, this is Bravo Two, what is your status?" Silence in return.
Once more, "Anyone, do you read me?" A sense of foreboding creeped around the edges of his consciousness. Some ominous dark fear lay like lead in his stomach.
Sighing, Clay stopped in his tracks. Nothing, not even static over the communication system could be heard. All around him there was not a single soul; only the convoluted back streets of Mumbai; and abandoned cars. Before him lay the University…behind him the embassy. He… stuck here in between.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes, and then took a haggard, weary breath. He could feel a real sense of panic begin to crawl up his spine. Soon it would overtake him. "Get it together", he admonished; and knew that Adam would rip him a new one if he were to witness him in this state…scared shitless.
When he opened his eyes, determined to move forward, he noticed someone moving swiftly toward him from down the street. Lifting his weapon, he looked through the site and frowned. He knew this man and wondered what this must mean for his sanity.
Throwing caution aside, he raced toward the running man with no hint of worry. They met each other face to face in the middle of the street; clutching at each other's shoulders in greeting.
"What are you doing here Clay?", Brain asked; concern bringing his eyebrows together beneath his helmet. Brian looked all geared up and ready for action… action he was yet to encounter on these quiet streets.
Clay was astonished, disbelief lacing his tone. "What do you mean, what am I doing here? What are you doing here?" Suddenly the joy of seeing his best friend standing before him, solid and whole gave way to trepidation. "No, wait", he continued. "This means something, doesn't it? Am I in my safe place? Has something happened? Has BRAVO been captured? Is someone torturing me right now? Why don't I remember it?"
Instead of confirming or denying his assumptions, Brian punched him in the shoulder…hard; effectively cutting off his stream of troubling thoughts.
"You're not to be here Clay. We're waiting for someone, and that someone isn't you."
Along the side walk, several soldiers emerged from the shadows, geared up, with their weapons held close. They seemed familiar, but Clay wasn't so sure. Then one stepped into the halo of a street lamp, a bullet hanging loosely about his neck from a golden chain. The talisman catching the light just so, made him squint from the sparkling shine.
What did this mean?
The pain in his chest pierced through his sternum and he gasped, pulling at his vest. He needed air.
"You need to get up", Brian yelled; the sound of his voice bouncing off empty buildings. "Breathe and get your ass up!"
Leaning over, Clay grabbed the front of his pants and sucked in some air, but the sound was a faint far away whistle. Light headed, dark spots danced before his eyes. He was going to pass out if he didn't get some air. Throat constricted he answered Brian's plea. "I need to find BRAVO. Somehow we got separated, and I'm not leaving here without them."
Brian shook his head; his exasperation evident as he grabbed hold of Clay's arms and held on tight.
"They're here already Niño" Razor called out from the curb, gray shadows obscuring his face. "All you need to do is breathe."
Looking to Brian, Clay saw his friend nod earnestly. "Just do it Clay" he pleaded, "do it now. It's not your time."
Gripping his friend's shoulder, Clay nodded back…afraid. If not him then who were he and Echo Team waiting for? "I'll see you soon enough", Brian lamented; his voice cracking beneath his smile. Taking a leap of faith, Clay stood tall and took in a breath.
The pain was like being struck by lightning. Every part of him exploded at once and there above him was Trent asking some inane questions he really didn't understand; but he nodded yes to anyway.
"Am I better looking than Sonny?" Trent droned on and he couldn't help but to laugh.
Brian laughed too, and then faded from view; the sound and essence of him lost and swallowed up by the sounds of Mumbai under siege. Razor saluted a goodbye from the curb, his talisman floating free about his neck. Then he too was gone.
His head ached and pounded every time he blinked. His thoughts were fragmented, filled with impossibly vivid visions of Brian and Echo Team; and his chest was on fire. It was a miracle he could put one foot in front of the other.
Clay knew he would slow them down, put the mission at risk….put lives at risk. But Adam wouldn't leave him behind. "You stick with me", he said, "and shake it off." He wasn't so sure, it seemed an impossible task, but Adam was sure he could do this. And if Adam was sure, then he was too. So, he stumbled alongside his idol until he wasn't.
Until he wasn't Adam anymore; until he was a disfigured husk of himself…limbs lost; his chest blown away; his eyes hollow and sightless.
How could he go on and do ….what. Why were they even here? Someone needed to stay on the street and watch over him. Be sure no one bothered him; desecrated him; tortured him in death. He would do it; he would stay and protect him.
He heard Ray talking to him…insistent, but it was like a bee buzzing in his ear. The annoying sound grew louder by the second. What was he supposed to do?
He could not think, he had to think…he needed time to think. What was everyone asking of him? He could not leave Adam here in the street.
From the hidden alley ways Brian rounded the corner; kneeled down beside his fallen friend and caught his eye. "It's okay" he reassured. "We're here …look?" And was relieved to see Steve Porter's Echo team set up a protective circle.
Nodding in agreement, heart heavy; filled with remorse, regret and guilt, Clay followed Ray and his brothers out into the night….away from Adam, to finish what they had come here to do.
When the C-17 landed and the ramp came down – the sun was shining and assailed the cabin. Adam was home, and the sun was shining. He wished somehow that clouds would roll in; obscure her light to reflect his mood and sadness of this moment.
Kneeling to help lift the draped casket, a sense of vertigo washed over him and played havoc with his equilibrium. He grabbed hold of the flag and leaned into the casket attempting to steady the whirling world around him.
Startled a bit, he could hear Adam whisper in his ear, "Shake it off." He could sense the smile in that voice; and recalled that those were the last words Adam spoke to him.
"Roger that", he murmured with some effort; and stood unsteadily to his feet. Knees wobbling, he locked them down tight, determined to walk his brother the rest of the way home.
Trent raised a concerned eyebrow, but he just lifted his hand to ward him off. "I'm okay", he offered as Jason made his way up the ramp – his face a mask of stone; his eyes deep wells of sorrow.
Something hardened in his heart as Jason stood before them, offering silent condolence and then his strength. It was an irrational response. One he didn't understand. He loved Jason. Adam's death wasn't on him. The fault was all his alone and lay solidly at his feet. No one else.
When their boots hit the earth, BRAVO's steps all in sync; Adam's weight seemed light and he couldn't compensate. He thought – there must be more to bear.
Suddenly, without preamble he was lying in the dirt; staring up at the bright sun. He tried to move, to get up, to finish Adam's last journey home, but he couldn't. His limbs were heavy, he could not catch his breath – an elephant sat on his chest.
"It's alright", Davis cooed above him as she pushed wet curls off his forehead. Mind racing, he thought…I have let him down again, I have left him behind….he will not forgive me.
Clay attempted to answer her, to say – get me on my feet; to beg if he had to, but she just stroked his hair. "Be still. Everything's okay", she sang and the sun went dark.
When he woke, Clay knew exactly where he was.
The hospital room was pristine. Above him, he could hear monitors keeping a steady beat – his vital signs good. To his left, an empty chair with Stella's purse, and favorite green sweater occupied the seat. He could smell her subtle herbal shampoo and wondered where she was.
Vague memories of being quickly wheeled down the halls of the hospital in a stretcher; a doctor speaking over his head to Blackburn; holding Stella's hand came to him in confusing snapshots.
"You had to have emergency surgery."
To his right, Jason stood at his bedside.
"Your lung collapsed," he continued. "You're going to be okay."
Clay nodded slowly in understanding and once again felt resentment bubble up into his throat at the sight of his friend. He did not like or understand this feeling. He was going to be okay, but Adam was dead. It should be the other way around.
If Jason had been there instead of Adam, it all would have turned out different…right?
Frowning, he knew this wasn't the way to think. Ray would say that everyone had their time, and it was Adam's. It had nothing to do with him, with Jason…with anybody. But he couldn't wrap his mind around it.
"You're angry. I understand," Jason reiterated, his voice cracking just a bit. The slight quiver, the only sign of vulnerability he could detect.
Anger. Is that what he was feeling? Maybe Jason was right. Deep down below this irrational resentment toward the man was that he was angry. Angry with himself. Angry that Adam was gone, and he was still here. Adam, who was not only his Boss; but was his friend, his mentor – the man who patiently molded him into the SEAL he was today.
Yes, goddamit, he was angry. His chest flared with pain, just as tears borne of grief welled and stung the dryness of his eyes.
Biting his lip; and pushing his head back into the pillow, to keep from groaning – the monitor above him went from a comfortable steady beep to rapid staccatos. Jason gripped his arm, and sat near his hip on the side of the bed.
"Steady there Spenser", he whispered. "Steady. Breathe with me. Let's do this together."
And so he turned to his Boss and grabbed hold of the lifeline offered; breathing in sync with Hayes' steady confidence until the pain was tolerable and the monitors were now back in a comfortable rhythm.
As the moment passed, Clay could feel his body relax and closed his eyes. Before sleep claimed him, he could hear movement in the room as Jason let go of his arm and stood from his side; Stella entered and kissed his forehead; the team rolled in and filled up all the empty spaces; the essence of those lost encased his heart…where Adam advised, "Charlie Mike."
Thank you so much for reading. I haven't written anything in a while, so I hope this turned out okay. This episode touched me deeply. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. Your comments and thoughts are always welcomed.