Broken.
Huddled behind some stacked wooden crates, Bill watched in horror as three shots exploded in Jack's vest and he collapsed, hitting the floor unconscious.
Shit.
Panic engulfed him as he watched the gun Jack had been firing scatter across the floor, now free from Jack's grip. It skidded to a stop just out of his reach. Bill cast a nervous glance at Jack, his chest was rising and falling but he lay still. The firing had stopped. Did the hostiles know he was here? Did they think the resistance was over? Trying to stay calm Bill moved to the edge of the crate and reached his arm out towards the weapon. He quickly snatched it back as a gun shot sounded and a bullet pinged against the steel walling behind them.
Jack lay a few feet away, out in the open, unprotected. The hostiles could see him, no doubt, his flack was visible over the white scuffed shirt he wore. They would be able to tell that he was alive, what were they waiting for?
Bill flinched as a sudden voice boomed around the large room. It carried a heavy accent and Bill listened carefully, his face paling as the terrorists pronounced his own name.
"Mr. Buchanan, come out now with your hands up."
Bill looked around automatically as thoughts raced through his mind. A set up? Had somebody betrayed them? They'd been following up on a lead Jack found. He needed somebody with tech experience to search the hard drive suspected of containing information on future attacks. Chloe had been ordered to accompany Jack, but she refused, and Bill volunteered instead, understanding Chloe's fear of being out in the field. The last time she went into the field she came under attack from hostiles and killed a man. Miller had come for protection, as a precaution. Intel suggested the place was empty. The Intel was wrong. Miller's body lay near the exit, out of sight, and Bill tried to keep the man out of mind too, he needed to focus. Either somebody leaked the information, or… the hard drive had more value then they anticipated.
"Bill Buchanan, come out now!"
Bill tried to slow his breathing down. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to order his thoughts and find a way to help himself, or escape, save Jack, and take control.
"I will give you to the count of three, before my men make sure Mr. Bauer is hit somewhere far more damaging than his vest."
Bill gritted his teeth at the mention of Jack's name. It had to be a set up.
"One!"
Jack was in danger. He'd been condemned to death once today, Bill couldn't jeopardise his safety again; could he?
"Two!"
He had no weapons. They were defenceless…
"Thr-"
"Wait!" Bill stood up, stepped away from the crate, held his hands away from his body and slowly moved into the open.
"Don't move," the voice ordered.
Bill stayed put and stared ahead at the three men who aimed their weapons at him. He tried not to let his fear show, but he'd never been in a situation like this before and it was unnerving. He didn't want to die…
One man strode over. The leader? Bill kept his hands raised, willing them to stop shaking as the man stood directly before him and stared him down.
"Hands on your head."
Bill complied immediately, feeling his suit jacket ride up as he raised his arms to complete the task. The man stepped behind him, and Bill flinched as his sweaty hands grabbed at his wrists, tying his arms behind his back tightly with plastic strips.
"Lets go."
The hostiles hand locked around the senior mans upper arm and Bill was directed towards the exit of the room. They passed the dusty computer he was here to examine and Bill glanced at it sadly, they were ambushed before they even secured the drive, they hadn't stood a chance. As he was led through the emergency exit door Bill turned his head to look back for Jack, but his guard pulled on his arm fast and shoved him out of the building before he could see anything more.
He was pushed through an alleyway, and made to stop before they reached the end. Bill faced the wall as instructed, staring at the red brick as he tried to control his breathing. Were they going to kill him now; was this it - was this death? He was startled by a screeching of tires, and tried to turn but a hand on the back of his collar warned him to stay put. Again, he flinched, and a hood was suddenly pushed over his face, before he was blindly directed into the back of a vehicle. The ride was long, and silent. Bill prayed Jack was okay. Was he even alive? Bill felt a knot grow in his stomach, the uncertainty sent his nerves on edge, and as he felt himself grow nauseous he was thankful for the protecting of his emotions the heavy hood provided, he didn't need the men to see his fear, he had to be brave, he had to be strong: he had to hope for the best.
Jack came too as the remaining men rolled him onto his stomach to restrain him and remove the flack jacket. His chest ached where the bullets had hit the vest and he was groggy, surprised and confused as the men tried to pin him down. He struggled frantically at first, scared they were taking him for more interrogation, more questions, more pain. Alam drew his weapon and pressed it against the side of Jack's temple, getting his attention. It was only then Jack became aware of his surroundings, the open warehouse a stark contrast to the dingy cell he had grown accustomed too as realisation and remembrance slowly seeped in through his senses. He wasn't in China anymore, but his body still ached as though he was.
"You aren't our primary concern, Mr. Bauer, so I'd stop fighting."
Jack stopped struggling as he tried to process the present. He was dragged through the same alley Bill passed through just minutes earlier, his wrists aching from the plastic restraints, the positioning of his arms irritating his wounded shoulder, it stung as the men pushed him into the van and he focused on the present pain rather than the similarities between the vehicle he occupied and the one Fayed and his man had earlier forced him into.