AN: This picks up right at the end of my episode tag for the Season 3 finale, Bad and Worse. Please go read that first, or this won't make a whole heap of sense, I think…
SOMEWHERE IN THE BALKANS
(THE EXACT LOCATION IS CLASSIFIED)
'…and then, there's a bang, and Cousin George says to me, we gotta run, Jack, the Terminator's coming! And trust me, he was coming, and he wasn't Arnie, and I was thinking, man, we're-'
Jack, his feet up on a desk, was chatting with Mac, Bozer and Riley, enjoying some rare downtime that lined up with their downtime, when the call suddenly cut out.
A second later, the lights flickered ominously, and the power went out.
He glanced around the room, at Deacon, Fitzy, Munoz, Lanier and Worthy.
(All of 'Dalton's Heroes', as they now called themselves, thanks to Mac, had been recalled when Kovac had turned out to be not-dead after all, except Thorpe.)
All of them had that same look on their faces.
Their guts were all telling them, I have a bad feeling about this.
And when guys like them with their training and experience all got that gut feeling, you knew it was about to go south.
Real south.
Munoz grabbed his laptop, which still had power, and tried to bring up the feeds from their cleverly-hidden security cameras, but got nothing.
Hands shifted to weapons.
Jack's radio crackled to life.
'We're…under attack…he…'
It cut out after a gunshot.
Weapons came out and were checked. At least three of them touched their boots, near their ankles, double-checking that the back-up to the back-up was there.
(Old habits died hard.)
'What's the plan, boss?'
Jack addressed Munoz, even as he assessed the situation.
'Told you not to call me that, man.'
'Hey, it's Dalton's Heroes, not Fitzy's, so you are the boss, Dalton.'
Fitzy, predictably, made an affronted noise at Munoz's retort.
That familiar banter, that way of keeping some light in the darkness, brought grim smiles to all the men's faces.
Jack, too, smiled grimly as he considered, checking the magazine in his gun out of habit.
Their position inside HQ was pretty defensible, with plenty of furniture for barricades and cover, and the various doors provided chokepoints.
But this was Tiberius Kovac, who definitely wanted them all six feet under and deader than dodos.
(Who else would it be, after all?)
Kovac would have brought plenty and plenty of firepower. They'd be severely out-gunned and out-numbered.
Besides, knowing him and his thing for blowing up buildings, he'd just launch a rocket at HQ.
They were dead if they stayed here.
Jack dove under his desk, grabbed his knife and tore out a section of carpet, revealing a trapdoor in the floor.
A secret escape hatch.
Which probably wasn't super-secret, since it connected to a network of tunnels from the Balkan War.
Kovac probably knew it was there already. Hell, he might have a map of the tunnels, and an ambush all set up.
They might be dead men if they went down there too.
But, in Jack's mind, it was better to die bringing the fight to the baddies then waiting for them to get to you.
'We're getting outta here, boys.'
He looked around, saw that same knowledge and acceptance and that touch of fear and sadness on their faces.
With a pang, he was reminded of Honduras, in that cabin, and of course, that reminded him of Mac.
This time, there wouldn't be Mac buying them time with something genius and crazy and weird that only he could do, and Matty swooping in to save them.
They were on their own.
There were affected nonchalant shrugs all around the room.
'Blood makes the grass grow.'
'Shame to stain the carpet.'
'Hoo-rah!'
They headed into the tunnels.
TEN MINUTES LATER
The force of an explosion somewhere above and behind them even rocked the tunnels a little, but Dalton's Heroes had bigger problems to worry about.
They were engaged in a running battle with Kovac's men, who had indeed followed them into the tunnels.
Jack fired off three shots behind them, cursing as he realized his mag was empty. Worthy tossed him a spare, while Fitzy covered as Deacon, half-carrying Munoz (he'd taken a shot to the thigh, too close to a major artery, based on the amount of blood he'd left behind, and the state he was in – they didn't need to be field medics like Lanier to know that), went past as fast as he could, following Lanier, who was taking point.
Jack and Worthy exchanged a glance as they, continuing to provide return fire and hoping like hell they didn't get hit, ran after the rest of the squad.
Jack knew that Caleb was thinking that at least he'd gotten to talk to Olivia and his kid that morning, one last time, because Jack was thinking the exact same thing.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER
Dalton's Heroes gathered in the clearing. Lanier, bleeding himself from the left bicep, got to work tightening a tourniquet around Munoz's leg as best as he could, once Deacon and Fitzy had lowered the now-unconscious man to the ground as gently as they could.
Deacon hissed in pain as he did so, bringing a hand to the through-and-through high in his right arm. Fitzy took stock of their remaining ammo (a grand total of six bullets between them), while Jack, limping due to a nasty bullet graze that was really more of a gouge in his right calf, limped towards a large tree, and pulled his knife from his boot. He carved a symbol into the tree, small and discreet, going deep enough to draw sap and smearing some around, before slicing off his leather wristband.
Worthy watched as he tried to keep guard, despite the fact his head was swimming. He tightened his belt around his calf, the pain helping him focus, just a little bit.
The brothers-in-arms looked around at each other as the inevitable footsteps and shouts grew closer, from all sides.
They were surrounded.
Jack smiled at them, grim, but heartfelt.
'Gentlemen, it's been an honour.'
ONE MINUTE LATER
Dalton's Heroes were surrounded, held at gunpoint by a dozen men with semi-automatics.
Their last six bullets had all been spent, and their knives taken.
Then, a man strode into the clearing, a gloating grin on his face.
It took them a moment to recognize him, even if his face was very, very familiar to them.
(There was – or there'd been, now – a large picture of him, that very same one that'd arrived, mysteriously, on Jack's phone months ago, on a wall in their HQ.)
Tiberius Kovac was indeed alive.
But Jack hadn't been wrong when he'd seen him go down, and he hadn't been wrong in reporting that his shot had hit.
The hair on the left side of Kovac's head was patchy at best. There was an ugly, gnarled scar on the back of his head.
But that was nothing compared to the front.
His left eye was covered by an eyepatch, and an entire side of his face heavily disfigured.
His smirk was very crooked, as it seemed he couldn't quite move that side of his mouth properly.
How had Kovac survived that headshot?
'Long time, no see, Tiberius.' Jack, kneeling on the ground at gunpoint, grinned back at Kovac, as one of Kovac's men dug his gun's muzzle rather painfully into the back of Jack's head, as if emphasising, no funny business. Jack forced that grin to widen in response. 'Honestly, thought I'd never see you again.' He forced his expression into something questioning, wondering, before making realization flit across his face. 'You a vampire? Or a secret clone? Whaddya think, Fitzy, which'd be cooler?'
Tiberius Kovac, anger obvious even on his twisted face, gestured to the man holding Jack's arm, who wrenched it painfully, before forcing Jack closer to the ground. Kovac strode forward, and kicked him, hard, in the face.
Almost, but not quite, hard enough to knock him out.
Jack got a mouthful of mud from Kovac's boot, and turned his head to spit it out behind him, the guard having let go of him for a moment due to the force of his boss's kick.
Jack's vision swam, blurred, spun.
Then, the muzzle of a gun was brought down on his temple, and he knew no more.
PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS
SOMEWHERE IN LA
Mac, Bozer, Riley and Desi filed into the war room, conspicuously silent, and oddly still.
Riley's eyes were still a little puffy. Mac's didn't look much better. Neither did Bozer's.
Desi's eyes were dry and her skin as perfect as ever. She clasped her hands behind her back, swallowed, and addressed Matty.
'Boss?'
For a moment, Mac thought he heard hope, desperate, pleading hope, in Desi's voice.
Matty shook her head, in that deceptively gentle way of hers.
'Still no survivors, just like previous reports.' She looked at them all a moment, that something gentle still in her eyes, before turning and tapping the screen. Mac leaned down and grabbed a paperclip from the bowl on the table, which appeared to have been recently refilled. 'Forensic techs are combing the scene; so far, they've got three key locations. The building itself, a network of underground tunnels…and this.'
A series of photos came up on the screen, of a clearing in the woods.
And six bullet holes in six trees, surrounded by blood splatter, at around the height of a man kneeling, one noticeably a few inches higher than the rest.
An execution site.
Riley made a little noise that was almost a sob, but willed herself to stop. Matty was showing them this for a reason, and she knew why.
(She'd cry again later.)
Bozer reached out and squeezed her hand in comfort for a moment.
Mac's hands moved faster, reshaping that paperclip like his life depended on it.
Desi swallowed, and something, complex and deeply felt and guarded, crossed her face.
Grief and worry flashed across Matty's, and then she continued.
'The Phoenix has been tasked with finishing the job.' She looked each of them in the eye in turn. 'I'm sending you to Montenegro to hunt down that SOB and take him out. For good.'
Riley took a deep breath and nodded, as Bozer did too, even raising his hand for a salute in a way that made all their heartstrings twist painfully, at a memory.
Mac nodded, a little jerkily, and tossed the re-formed paperclip onto the coffee table.
A star.
Or, surely, the Lone Star of Texas.
'For Jack.'
The words were more than a little shaky with emotion. They were echoed back at him, just as full of grief and hurt and pain and love and loss.
Even, he swore, Desi's.
It was enough to make him turn his head, look at her.
(He had never gotten the story of why she owed Jack. Judging by what little he could read from her now, on her face, in her voice, it was a lot more than a simple debt.)
(He'd never texted her those details, never raised those half-formed plans again. He'd been out of it the last week, mostly lost in his own head.)
(Desi had been…odd, cold and particularly prickly since that night after.)
(Mac really couldn't read her well, but he thought he might have offended her by not texting about their not-date.)
(Worse, he couldn't even bring himself to care.)
(Not now. Not after all this. Not after Charlie and Mason and his dad and Jack.)
Matty's voice broke him out of his thoughts, brought him out from staring at the abyss, at least for a moment.
'You're wheels up for Montenegro in thirty.'
He latched onto that, told himself very, very sternly to focus. To concentrate.
To stay out of the rabbit hole in his mind, to not topple into that abyss.
For Jack.
SOMEWHERE IN MONTENEGRO?
Munoz screamed, even through the thick leather shoved roughly into his mouth, as the hot branding iron was pressed to the gunshot wound in his leg, cauterizing it. One of Kovac's men, wearing gloves, inserted an IV into his arm before restraining him again with leg and arm shackles, like the rest of his brothers-in-arms.
Jack, his head throbbing, turned to Kovac, who was watching, with a rather savage gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as Munoz had screamed, which Jack really didn't like.
(He was beginning to sense where this was going…and uncomfortably, painfully, reminded of his and Mac's thwarted trip to Vegas for the seven-and-a-half year manniversary…and a fateful day in Indonesia, what felt like a lifetime ago.)
'Why are you doing this?'
Kovac smirked in a way that was definitely savage, stalking closer to Jack.
'Do you know how long I suffered, recovering from this?' He gestured to his face, and that savage look in his eyes grew wilder, crueller. 'Do you really think I'd let you have an easy death?'
As Kovac turned away and swept out of their cell, Jack sent up a prayer to whoever might be listening up there that Mac had gotten his message.
SOMEWHERE ELSE IN MONTENEGRO
FORMER LOCATION OF JACK'S TASKFORCE'S HQ
Mac, Bozer, Riley and Desi emerged from the tunnels, Desi thanking a local forensic tech in Serbian.
Mac was too lost in his own thoughts to remember something like manners and societal convention.
All attempts to track Kovac via satellite or his phone or chatter had failed. Local techs had tried. The best from every country that'd contributed to the taskforce had tried.
Riley had spent the entire flight over trying, harder than Mac had ever seen her try (which was saying a lot), except for an hour when Bozer had coaxed her into taking a nap.
They were still trying, but the look on Riley's face told them that it wasn't likely anything would turn up.
That it was pretty much impossible that something would.
Finding Kovac was going to come down to what could be found, in physical evidence, here.
And there was nothing of use in the rubble, or the tunnels.
Nothing that'd lead them to Kovac.
Without a word, without even glancing back at them, Mac jogged off towards the last site, that clearing in the woods where…
Desi glanced back at Riley and Bozer, then jogged after Mac, single-minded focus in her eyes.
Bozer just glanced at Riley, worry clear on his face.
(If Desi was hard to read, Bozer was easy.)
'We could just head back to the command tent…bet the computer techs would love to have your help…'
It was an obvious excuse.
For a moment, Riley was tempted to take it.
She didn't want to see where…
But she steeled herself and shook her head.
'No, we can help.'
With sheer will and determination, Riley jogged off after Desi and Mac.
Following behind, Bozer wondered how he was going to put Mac and Riley back together again after this.
He had to, but he had no idea if he could.
SOMEWHERE IN MONTENEGRO?
'…it is a dark time for the Rebellion. Although…' Jack panted, drawing in what air he could before the cattle prod held by one of Kovac's minions was thrust back into his chest. He grit his teeth, tried not to scream, and kept reciting the first thing that'd come to mind. '…the Death Star…has been destroyed…' He sucked in air desperately again. '…Imperial troops have driven…' Another breath. '…the Rebel forces from their hidden base and…' When the cattle prod withdrew, it didn't return in the customary five seconds it had earlier. Kovac, watching with that very savage gleam in his eyes that Jack really, really, really didn't like, raised a hand to stay his man. Jack forced himself to look Kovac in the eye and speak irreverently. 'Aw, come on, man, I only got halfway through Empire, you gotta hear my Return of the Jedi one, at least!'
Kovac just smirked
'Oh, you'll have plenty of time, Dalton, don't worry.'
He gestured at another man, who came forward holding another cattle prod.
This looked like a jacked-up version, like what you'd get if you let Mac at a cattle prod, and told him to make it better.
Actually, Jack corrected in his head, that was probably wrong, since Mac would probably try and reduce the pain they caused, not increase.
What Mac's evil twin would produce, he corrected himself, if given a cattle prod and told to make it better.
As the new prod was thrust at his chest, and pain arched through him, Jack hoped.
SOMEWHERE ELSE IN MONTENEGRO
FORMER LOCATION OF JACK'S TASKFORCE'S HQ
When he reached the clearing, for a moment, Mac was completely, utterly still. Frozen.
Then, he took two steps forward, and started looking around, taking in every little bit of information, letting it catalogue and filter and process in his brain.
Something, though he couldn't tell you what, not yet, caught his eye, and without even thinking about it, Mac walked forward, crouched by a tree.
He pulled out his Swiss Army knife, and using the large blade, picked up some tree sap. It was malleable, still.
Fresh.
His eyes scanned the area nearby. The sap pattern seemed unnatural; unlikely, given his knowledge of physics and chemistry and botany, to be positioned where it was.
And then, he saw it.
A tiny Ankh, carved into the tree.
Hope bloomed in his chest, as memories of Cairo flowed through his mind, unbidden (of Jack's constant, incessant commentary and questions, often stupid or culturally insensitive or both, constantly asking him what this hero-glyphic meant or that one, or lecturing Mac on what he'd read in some clearly inaccurate 'Egyptology' book when he was a kid).
'Guys…' Desi, Bozer and Riley came over. 'Jack left us a message.'
His companions' expressions were all a mix of sceptical and hopeful (Desi much more sceptical than hopeful), but Mac didn't notice, as another memory struck him.
In Cairo, they'd picked up an intel drop from an undercover agent.
At a café, a little hole-in-the-wall place.
And its logo had been an Ankh.
Mac looked around, and started rummaging around the base of the tree, under the Ankh, shifting leaf litter.
Moving some of the leaves uncovered something that they all recognized.
Jack's leather wristband.
Glances were exchanged (now a touch, perhaps, more hopeful), and then Mac, using the tweezers from his Swiss Army knife, moved the wristband, unfolded it.
Inside, there was blood…and what looked like mud.
Bozer's face visibly fell. Desi's eyes grew more shuttered, harder, less hopeful. Riley sucked in a breath, eyes closing for a beat.
Mac stared at the blood and mud for a moment, before speaking.
'I need a sample tube and a Q-tip.'
Bozer pulled a sterile tube and Q-tip kit they'd borrowed from local forensic techs out of his bag.
'Bro…'
His tone was worried, between warning Mac against false hope, and desperately wanting to believe it himself.
That desperation was clearly winning.
Mac transferred the mud/blood mix to the sample tube, sealed it and snapped a quick photo of the Ankh and the wristband, before transferring the wristband into a sample bag that Bozer passed wordlessly to him.
Then, he jumped up, and made to head for the command tent.
'We need to get Jack's message analysed ASAP.'
Without another word, he started to jog off.
'Mac.' When he didn't stop at her calling his name, Desi called out louder, chased after her partner. 'Mac!' She caught up with him just as he reached the other side of the clearing, grabbed his forearm to stall him. 'Mac, there's following your gut, and then there's…this. You're grasping at straws. This might not mean anything. It could even be a trap.'
Mac forced down that wave of anger. Getting mad at Desi was not going to help.
And he knew, deep down, that she was only trying to protect him. Trying to protect them all (her included) from false hope.
Jack might have left them a message, but that mud/blood mix in his wristband might not have been it. It was possible that Jack might not have managed to leave his message in the end, or that he might have, but it might not prove useful.
He was alive to carve that Ankh, but that didn't mean he was alive now.
And hell, it could even be a trap set by Kovac.
They all knew that, even without Desi saying it.
But Mac needed to believe. He needed to…to delude himself, as Desi was just about saying.
Because if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to keep going.
He took a deep breath, turned his head to look Desi in the eye, aware that there was probably something hard and cold and angry in there, but not able to muster up enough control to contain it, even if it was unfair to direct it at her.
'It's all we got.'
He shook his arm free from her grip, and jogged off.
'…the blood is a match for Jack Dalton.' The forensic tech indicated the results from the tests run on the sample Mac had brought back for analysis. 'Soil and plant matter profiles are typical for this area, and not noteworthy, but there is an interesting mixture of fungal species. Inocybe, Hebeloma, Xerocamus, Lactarius and Thelephora species, as well as various ascomycete endophytes…'
That did not mean anything to Riley, Bozer, Desi or Matty, listening in via video-call on Desi's phone, other than a dead end, but Mac's brow furrowed, and he leaned over the tech's shoulder to get a better look at the data.
The other four exchanged a glance behind his back, partly hopeful, partly deeply worried.
'Did you find any Epipogium aphyllum in the sample?'
The tech's brow furrowed too, and he typed for a beat, searching the raw data.
'Not from untargeted detection, but…' He pointed at something on the screen, a series of lines with numbers on top. '…if I search for it, yes.' He paused, hesitated after glancing at Mac. 'The level is very low, it may just be noise…'
Mac nodded.
'I know, thanks.' He turned to Riley. 'I need you to cross-reference known locations of Epipogium aphyllum, otherwise known as the ghost orchid, with locations Kovac could have reached by now.' Mac pulled a paperclip from his pocket, which started to rapidly take the shape of a flower, presumably this ghost orchid. 'It's an extremely rare plant, there shouldn't be many hits…'
Yes, I know, it's pretty lame that I know so much about Epipogium aphyllum.
But can you blame me?
It's a heterotrophic plant that doesn't contain any chlorophyll! Which means that according to what you and I learned in high school, it isn't even a plant.
Desi crossed her arms and glanced at the blonde.
'This is even crazier.' There were so many assumptions in there. Mac forced down that anger again. Desi's tone wasn't cruel or even challenging, it was bluntly factual, in a way that he swore wasn't just directed at him, or even him and Bozer and Riley and Matty, but her, a little, too. Her expression softened suddenly, growing cautiously hopeful and sad and even affectionate. 'But it is for Jack.'
On-screen, Matty nodded.
'I'll liaise with local authorities and get you a tac-team.'
Mac tossed the orchid-shaped paperclip onto the desk, next to Riley's laptop as he watched over her shoulder, and gave his boss a nod of thanks.
SOMEWHERE IN MONTENEGRO?
As Fitzy and Deacon's screams rang out, Worthy locked eyes with Jack cross their cell. He glanced at the guards at the door, then started signing to Jack, using the modified form of Delta hand signals that their squad had developed over the years.
Reckon your boy got that message you left?
Jack signed back immediately.
Yes.
There was a gap as the guards turned to look at them. When they looked away again, Worthy replied.
Reckon he'll find us?
Jack's response was just as quick again.
Yes. He paused, took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them and looking at Worthy again. Eventually. Another pause, and a look on his face that Caleb recognized. That same complicated, yet oh-so-simple mix of emotions he'd felt in Honduras, when he realized he'd been set up, wondering if his kid would grow up thinking his dad was a traitor, all because of the choice he'd made, for his family's sake. Wondering if he'd hurt his son in trying to help him, help their family. He won't stop until he does.
SOMEWHERE ELSE IN MONTENEGRO
FORMER LOCATION OF JACK'S TASKFORCE'S HQ
'…based on all recorded ghost orchid locations and assuming that Kovac didn't travel by plane or chopper, this is the search radius.'
Riley pointed at the area of southern Montenegro, near the Albanian border, enclosed in a red circle on her laptop screen.
Bozer turned to Desi, Mac and Matty.
'Okay, so if you were a really-good-at-being-bad terrorist leading a super-secret terrorist cell being chased by some really-good-at-being-good good guys and holding some really badass guys hostage, where would you set up your lair in that circle?'
'...according to what these Montenegrin geocachers, orienteers and history buffs have posted on their forums, this old farmhouse is a nexus for an entire tunnel network.'
Riley brought up a photo of an old, but sturdy-looking farmhouse, and a map showing its location on her laptop.
Bozer leaned closer to take a better look.
'It's right in the middle of the search radius.'
Riley's fingers clacked on her keyboard for a moment, and she brought up a live satellite feed.
'Looks like we've got activity…'
There were what looked like fresh tyre tracks leading into one of the barns. Switching to thermal imaging gave them nothing, however.
Mac pursed his lips.
'Blocking thermal imaging inside a building isn't that difficult; they probably put up some bricks…' He gestured at Riley's laptop screen. 'Ri, can you bring up the live feed again? And a map of the farmhouse and the tunnels, if you can.'
A few keystrokes, and the live feed was on the left, and the requested maps overlaid on the right.
Mac studied them for a moment, as did Desi, before he nodded.
'It's the best location for Kovac to set up.'
Desi nodded in agreement.
'Tunnels probably explain why he's been able to get around undetected.' She tapped the main farmhouse's west side. 'Prisoners should be here.'
Mac nodded in agreement.
'Which means we need to be there, in position, when the tac-team launches the assault.'
Bozer glanced between the feed and the maps.
'How? If we approach by car or chopper, Kovac's gonna see us coming, but he's gotta have guards and cameras in the tunnels…'
Riley leaned forward, fingers resting on her keyboard.
'Leave the cameras to me.'
Mac's thinking-face appeared for a moment.
'And I've got an idea for the guards.' He gave a good attempt at a wry little smile, at bringing a little light into the darkness. 'But Matty's probably not going to like the bill.'
Matty's voice sounded out through Riley's phone, through video-call.
'If it brings our boy home, Blondie, you're forgiven.'
They say every cloud has a silver lining.
I am not sold on that, but Mason drugging me with BZ definitely had a silver lining.
You could say it inspired me, at least.
We need to take out Kovac's guards in the tunnels quickly and quietly, and methoxyflurane, another well-known incapacitating agent, is just the molecule for the job.
SOUTHERN MONTENEGRO
(VERY CLOSE TO ALBANIA)
(ALSO VERY CLOSE TO ONE OF THE FEW KNOWN HABITATS OF THE GHOST ORCHID)
'…you know, Omar, man, I been meaning to ask you…whaddya think it'd take to make Judy forgive me for the Jell-O Incident?'
Jack, in a world of pain, nonetheless turned to his Delta buddy, asked like he would if they were fishing or at a sports bar or playing poker in Vegas. Around the cell, the rest of their brothers variously gave grins and snorts through their own pain.
'She's never gonna forgive you, brother. You know how she is with her granny's linens…'
'So saving your life a couple times, grovelling and some of Belgian's finest ain't gonna do it?'
'Nope.'
LITTLE-KNOWN TUNNEL ENTRANCE
SIX MILES AWAY
Mac, Desi and Riley, all in bulletproof vests and gas masks borrowed from the Montenegrin tac-team, stuck their heads into the tunnel's entrance.
(After much argument, Bozer was staying behind in the tac-team's mobile command centre to run comms and intel.)
They pulled their heads back, and Mac tossed the first of his many methoxyflurane grenades into the tunnel. It detonated, they waited thirty seconds as Mac counted, and then headed down. Desi had the assault rifle she'd borrowed from the tac-team at the ready, her own weapon at her hip. Riley held Desi's own backup with confidence and ease that Mac knew she'd worked hard on, and Jack had trained her well in. He himself was armed with his methoxyflurane grenades, a half-dozen flash-bangs, a Taser and a large flashlight borrowed from the tac-team, who all thought he was nuts.
(They probably didn't think he understood Serbian.)
As they got into position, ready to breach the trapdoor into what should be just outside the presumably-makeshift cell Kovac was keeping his prisoners in, Mac and Riley exchanged a glance.
Fear and worry and nerves and hope were all apparent.
Then, Riley gave a shaky little smile.
'He's Jack Dalton.'
Mac returned that.
'He's more badass than two John McClanes.'
'He survived a tiger-bear.'
'And has punched at least fifteen sharks.'
Another nod and slightly-less-shaky little smiles, and then, they both nodded at Desi.
'Alpha team in position, beta, gamma, go!'
Mac flung the trapdoor open.
As the guards started shouting, Jack and his squad glanced around at each other, moving as best as they could, getting ready, grim smiles on their faces.
A rescue attempt, no matter how well thought-out, might not end well for them. They'd learned that the hard way.
But it was hope, and Deltas never went down without a fight.
'Hoo-rah!'
Seconds later, there were four loud thumps, and the cell door opened, to reveal Mac, followed by Riley. Desi stayed at the door, keeping guard, and Jack couldn't help but grin, wide, like a madman.
Mac rushed over to him, looking impossibly relieved, a look Riley shared, crouching to get at the manacles, hands moving quickly as he tried to shoot Jack a look. Given the sheer joy and relief on his face, it didn't really work.
'Cairo, really?'
Jack grinned even wider.
'Great to see you too, son. Knew you'd get it!'
Riley shot one of Kovac's men in the knee, then ducked to avoid the blow that a second who'd lost his weapon swung at her, moving around him, and then taking him out with the Vulcan nerve pinch she'd learned from Leanna. At her side, Desi shot a man who was trying to shoot Riley, grabbed a second by the collar, pulled him down so that his stomach met her knee painfully, shot a man over his shoulder, then tossed him backwards, kicking him under the chin as he fell to the ground.
Meanwhile, Fitzy, Lanier and Deacon fought side-by-side, forming a protective circle of sorts around Worthy and Munoz, who were more badly wounded. Next to them, Mac and Jack moved as if they'd never been apart, Jack punching out the lights of one of Kovac's minions, stealing his gun, and shooting the man that Mac had just kicked the legs out from under of, as his partner jumped up, flicking a second man in the face with his belt, sending him reeling and giving Worthy an opening to shoot him, tossing a flash-bang at a group of three terrorists in the same breath, allowing Fitzy and Deacon to take them out easily.
Even with the tac-team, they were outnumbered.
And it seemed that Kovac, the wily SOB, was nowhere to be found.
'…just like Tashkent, eh, brother?'
Jack handed out a couple knuckle sandwiches, then grabbed the third terrorist that Mac had sent his way. Mac, who'd just Tased one terrorist as he flicked a second in the face, hard, with his belt to send him reeling towards Jack, disagreed loudly.
'You and I clearly remember Tashkent very differently!'
Jack just grinned as he shot a terrorist who was trying to tackle Mac in the shoulder, calling out to Desi as she roundhouse-kicked one terrorist hard in the stomach, sending him into his buddies and turning them into easy prey for Dalton's Heroes.
'Whaddya say, Dez, shades of Arbil?'
Desi elbowed the man who'd tried to come up behind her in the gut, grabbed him, and threw him to the ground.
'I'm with Mac!'
Minutes later, most of the bad guys had been taken out. Deacon, Lanier and Fitzy circled Munoz and Worthy, Lanier eyeing Munoz with concern, since he was practically swaying on his feet. Dalton's Heroes were focused on picking off the men who occasionally popped out from various doorways and trapdoors, firing off a shot or two at them, before ducking back behind cover. The tac-team was working on taking them out, but it was slow going.
Riley was just pouncing on the back of a man who'd dropped his now-useless gun (Mac had done a number on it using something that involved a re-purposed flash-bang), while Desi was locked in a hand-to-hand fight with a man armed with a knife that was clearly under her control. Jack had a third terrorist in a headlock, while Mac had his belt wrapped around a fourth's neck, cutting off his oxygen supply just enough to knock him out before letting him drop to the ground.
Suddenly, Jack heard two gunshots ring out behind him, practically on top of each other, and then, he felt a searing pain in his shoulder as a bullet went through it.
Mac's eyes widened as the shots were fired, watching Desi as she fired into the rafters, at Kovac, whom none of them had noticed was there.
At Kovac, who'd had his gun aimed at Jack. Who, Mac could tell, in that brief half-second as Desi fired and hit him cleanly between the eyes and whirled back to re-engage the man with a knife she'd turned her back on to shoot, would have put a bullet through Jack's brain if Desi hadn't thrown off his aim at the last second.
Five bullets took out the man about to stab Desi before he could even touch her.
Deltas had quick reflexes. Very, very quick reflexes.
Kovac's body toppled, falling to the ground, right between Jack and Desi.
Jack, meanwhile, clutching his shoulder, just shook his head and smiled at the woman, still breathing hard.
'Guess I owe you now, Dez.'
Her returning smile, the look in her eyes, was as soft as any of them had ever seen her.
'I'll call that even.'
A HOSPITAL
HOME SWEET LA
Jack made a face as he dug into what passed for lunch.
No-one, in his opinion, liked orange Jell-O. Except Lanier, 'cause he was weird.
Making a face, he set aside the Jell-O, making a mental note to get Boze to run it over to Lanier across the hall later.
It was great to be home, but he hated being stuck in hospital eating hospital grub.
His mood brightened, however, as Mac, Riley and Bozer entered his hospital room, the former two carrying what looked like a laptop fused with a VCR (somehow…), the latter with a huge grin on his face and something very obviously behind his back.
As they reached Jack's bed, Bozer grinned wider, and pulled out Jack's OG Die Hard tape.
'Surprise!'
Jack grinned, wide and soft and full of love, and held out his good arm.
God, he'd missed these kids. So, so, so much.
'Come here, kiddos.'
If his voice was a little choked with emotion, that was between them all. Family business.
Riley sat down on the chair nearest him, leaned closer so he could put his arm around her shoulders, hugging him back just as tightly.
Mac finished setting up the jury-rigged entertainment system, then took a seat next to Riley, leaning forward to bump his fist to Jack's, and Bozer sat down on Jack's other side after slotting the cassette into the VCR.
Twenty minutes into Die Hard, Diane Davis walked into Jack's hospital room, clutching her purse tightly and followed unobtrusively by Matty.
The taller woman looked pale and shaken, and the look of immense relief that crossed her face as she laid eyes on Jack (in a hospital gown in a hospital bed, banged up, but unmistakeably alive and home) was unmistakeable.
'Jack...'
She walked over, slowly, like she was on some kind of autopilot, took the seat next to Jack's bed that Bozer vacated with a murmured thanks, and just stared.
Jack blinked a couple of times in surprise, then gave a crooked little grin that was also soft and schoolboy-ish.
'Hey, Diane. Seems like you can't get rid of me, eh?'
Riley smiled, soft and slow, and turned to Matty, who just smiled back at her.
Mac walked back to Jack's room after paying visits to the rest of Dalton's Heroes, who were all expected to make a full recovery. Thorpe had just showed up, along with the rest of their families, and Mac knew that even if he'd been declared 'the new guy', they wanted some time alone with their families.
As he approached, he saw Diane and Riley grinning mischievously, animatedly telling Matty a story that had their boss laughing, as Jack practically pouted with his arms crossed as best as he could manage.
Clearly, an embarrassing story about Jack.
Mac's brows went up as Diane leaned over and pecked his cheek very gently in apology.
'So that's Diane.' Mac whirled around, to find Desi standing behind him, having apparently snuck up on him…somehow…while crunching on spicy ranch chips from a large bag in her hands. He arched an eyebrow at her, wondering how she knew about Diane, and Desi just gave that little smirk of hers. 'Drinking contest, followed by Truth or Dare.'
Mac's brow rose a little further (that was a story he really wanted to hear…), and he nodded.
'Ah.' There was a moment of silence that was probably awkward, but Desi didn't seem to care or notice, continuing to eat her chips. 'Um, I, uh, just wanted to tell you, Desi, that I'm sorry. For, um, well, ignoring the fact we had plans. Sorta-plans. You know, for, um, dinner, and, uh, upsetting you or offending you or…'
He trailed off.
Great work, MacGyver. That was an excellent apology.
Not.
Yeah…social interaction is not my strong point, is it?
Especially when it comes to beautiful, intelligent and badass women…
Given the way Desi was looking at him, head slightly tilted, arms crossed, eyebrow slightly arched, in a way that was definitely amused and slightly fond (he hoped, anyway), she agreed that he was definitely being really awkward.
'You didn't upset or offend me, Mac.' Was he imagining things, or was there something almost apologetic in her tone of voice, in her eyes? Honestly, he had no idea with her half the time. Desi was a puzzle. She continued, tone blunt and unvarnished, but not cold or cutting either. 'You were off your game. I was your partner, so I had to pick up the slack.' Before Mac could say anything in response (a thank you, another apology, an inquiry into whether she was going to leave the Phoenix now that Jack was back…), Desi handed him the bag of spicy ranch chips. 'Take that.'
And then, in the same breath, she just strode off, leaving a very confused Mac standing there, holding a half-eaten bag of spicy ranch chips.
I take that back.
Desi's not a puzzle. Not just a puzzle, anyway.
She's a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, to borrow Churchill's words.
A moment later, Bozer walked up, his arms full of snacks. Mac's best friend tilted his head to the side as he took in what Mac was holding and the look on his face.
'Desi?'
Mac just nodded, running a hand through his hair and giving a befuddled shrug, turning to walk into Jack's room.
'Yup.'
Jack called out to him, making Mac grin easily, automatically.
'Finally, brother, you're late on the rescue and with the snacks!'
Mac smirked teasingly.
'Two rescues in sixty hours? You must be getting old, old man!'
As a result, he missed the worried look that flitted across Bozer's face.
Later, Jack smiled, soft and wide and slow and full of affection, as Riley rolled her eyes and muttered something about men as Mac and Bozer tossed peanuts into each other's mouths.
He turned to Matty, who was sitting in a chair next to him, also watching that scene, with, to his eyes, equal love and affection.
'It's good to be home.'
Matty nodded, and reached out and patted his arm.
'It's good to have you back, Jack.'
AN: I gave myself so many feels writing this, you have no idea…hopefully it did the same for you? This one is a little bit on the short side for what I'd like an ep to be, but I think it's because part of the story I wanted to tell is already told in Bad and Worse, and that another portion of the story will be told in the 'episode tag' that I've written. (I'm trying to follow the 'format' of the show, which means not ending each ep with excessive Team-as-Family moments…as much as I want to!).
The 'episode tag' will be contained in Moments So Dear, which will contain all of my DIY 'episode tags' for this season. It'll be up on Tuesday, and here's the summary:
Where the Heart Is, tag to 4.01, Homemade. Jack settles back into life at home with his family.
For a long time, I debated on whether I should bring Jack back or not, given that I'm not convinced George Eads is going to return as a regular. I also considered giving him a 'guest star' role in which he's badly hurt at the end of this ep and forced to retire (in that version, he started a relationship with Diane and popped up regularly to dispense his wisdom), then decided…look, it's fanfic, I'm not restricted by anything like real-life actor availability (or budget!), and it's my fanfic…so I'll do what I want and bring back Jack! I figure that this will be a popular decision? :P
Here's the press release for the next ep:
4.02, Gain/Loss. A simple protection detail allows Mac and Jack to fall back into being partners. Meanwhile, Riley and Bozer conspire, and Desi is distant, leading to Mac worrying that she's leaving the Phoenix.
A note on episode titles – I think A + B + C + D would just be ridiculous, so I'm not going to do it (and I wonder whether the show will for Season 4…some of the titles for Season 3 are honestly silly and overly-long). Instead, each episode will have a title of the format A/B.