Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or their badassery. No copyright infringement intended.
Jensen finds himself cornered. Not the proper 'we've got you surrounded, hands up' cornered, but the 'you're fucked you fuck face so die' kind. Which is all kinds of messed up considering he didn't sign up for the goddamned mission to begin with, but that doesn't matter when you're a loser because well, you pretty much lose every time anyway.
He takes a moment to say calmly over the comm, "I'm screwed" before he tries to figure a potential way to escape. Clay asks his location at the same time that Cougar and Pooch curse.
"South wing cap," Jensen says even as he feels a rush of air form a bullet brush by his left calf. He inhales sharply.
"You hit son?" Clay practically shouts. Jensen lets out a harsh negative and immediately feels a bullet graze his hand.
"I'm cornered with minimal cover here," he shouts over the bang of guns and loud cracks of bullets embedding deeply into the half wall in front of him.
He figures almost instantly that he has maybe five minutes before the wall crumbles enough to allow a death shot. Two minutes for a break long enough that he can fire back and an entire seven minutes before the cavalry arrives. He smirks to himself when he realizes that's the ETA for most crews, but they're not nearly as kick ass as The Losers.
"Cougar, cover him as best you can from your vantage point," Jensen hears Clay order over his own heavy breathing, "Pooch, we infiltrate from two directions. You're on the east. Jensen?"
"Yeah Cap?" Jensen asks between several loud shouts from the shooting party.
"Hold your ground." Jensen nods, realizing too late Clay's not there to see him.
The gun fire ceases only moments after Jensen had estimated it would. He goes to tighten his grip on his gun, but it suddenly slides free of his bloody fingers and makes a loud clatter when it lands several feet from his spot.
"Mother fucker, today is not my day," Jensen says violently. Several what happened's come through the comm at once, "dropped my gun. The cool one too, with the ivory handle and copper trigger. That cost me my left test-"
"Clay and Pooch are nearly in position, I can see them," Cougar interrupts.
"Do you surrender?" A voice shouts. Jensen shrugs to himself.
"Yeah," he waits half a beat, "Sure."
"Arms above your head and stand up slowly," the voice shouts.
"They are nearly there," Cougar says.
A single gunshot goes off in warning, "Move!"
He raises his arms above the half wall, ignoring the warm blood dripping from his hand. He eyeballs his gun before slowly raising himself above the wall and stepping sideways from behind it.
"On the floor," Jensen squints hard at the man. There are two men flanking him on each side, guns trained steady at his head. There are no other men in the near vicinity.
"We've got 'em locked," Clay's voice says into the comm.
"You ever heard of cops and robbers?" Jensen asks non-challantly as he lowers himself to his knees, hands interlaced behind his head.
"The fuck is he talking about?" one of the men asks, lowering his gun to his Hollister and pulling out cuffs.
Jensen catches a blur of black behind one of the shooters.
"Cause you never know which way the game will go." Several gunshots sound at once followed quickly by a shatter of breaking glass. Jensen lounges for his gun, injured hand cramping as he reaches. His fingers are nearly around it when a white hot pain forces him sideways.
"Shit," Pooch's voice echoes in the comm and through the room, "Jensen's hit!"