Hi everyone, so "Professionals" is FINALLY FINISHED sorry it took so long, silly things like college got in the way urgh ^_^;;
Anyways, I loved writing this, hope you like reading!
Becker!whump 5eva
"Run!" rang out Becker's voice from behind the running group.
Connor and Abby reached for each others hands as they tore down the ARC corridor as fast as their legs could carry them. Over the sound of their own breaths panting in their ears they could hear Christine Johnson's soldiers shouting from behind. Danny followed close behind, his broad face pulled into a worried grimace as he checked to make sure everyone was keeping pace with him. Sarah struggled to keep up, occasionally being propelled forward by Becker, who was bringing up the rear and attempting to hold the soldiers off at the same time.
Danny swore to himself. The team was his responsibility, damn it all! He had been ready to take over after Cutter's death but now for the first time realized the full responsibility the role carried. . .
Becker was running out of bullets. He tried to make each one count but firing while running down a narrow corridor and trying to make sure no one fell behind wasn't helping. They had been caught by surprise. Even prepared as he was, Becker knew the ARC wasn't ready for a full siege situation. He spared a second to glance back again; the soldiers were closing in. He could think of one way out: the underground parking lot that housed their SUV. Johnson's men probably hadn't had time to crack the alarm codes on the gates down there, and Danny had already proved that the garage was a weak spot. If Quinn could get in, they could get out. Becker calculated in his head as clearly as he could while gunshots rang out around him and his friends.
Hadn't there been a time when these people were just his charges? Now friends. The ARC certainly had that effect. They faced death on a daily basis, but somewhere mixed up with all that danger there were some wonderful, fantastic sights that the six of them had seen together. Becker had a flashing memory of the first time he had seen an herbivore calmly munching grass and been close enough to touch it. The feeling of the rough skin had left him wide-eyed with amazement, however reluctant he was to admit that to the rest of the team. Sarah had seen though, and smiled at him.
A fast rat-a-tat-tat of machine gun fire brought Becker back to the present. The group had finally gained the end of the corridor and swung left into the last lab room.
"This only buys us a couple minutes, people" Danny whispered roughly. His eyes were wide and he led the team as far back in the lab as they could get. Abby panted and held Connor's hand while he looked at Danny beseechingly.
"Danny . . . I don't know mate, they've got us good," Connor said in a low voice. "There's no exits on this side of the ARC."
Abby's eyes became steely.
"We are not getting murdered down here by Christine Johnson's thugs!" she whispered forcefully, pushing her hair back from her forehead. Her eyes softened for a second and Connor knew that she was remembering Rex who'd been in her lab before the attack. Knowing the clever creature though, he was probably well out of harm's way.
Becker skidded into the room last, ducking as plaster flew out from the wall behind him from gunshots.
"Connor!" he said at once, eyes roving till they landed on the Connor-esque hat sticking up from behind a lab table.
"Mate?" came the reply.
"Connor, I need some explosives, something that will make a lot of smoke, alright? Can you get your hands on something or mix one up?
Connor thought for a moment, his bright eyes flickering over each lab table surface.
"Um, yeah, no problem but Becker, how's this going to help?" he asked.
Becker strode back towards the door frame and prepared to continue holding the soldiers off.
"That smoke's going to get us out of here" he replied, gun raised and ready to defend the lab room.
With the Sarah's help, Connor managed to improvise an explosive that would create the smoke Becker had asked for. About fifteen feet away from the door of their lab was the elevator entrance. Although Christine Johnson had overridden the security features and put the ARC on lockdown, they could still in theory climb down the shaft and make it to the underground garage.
Sweat trickled down Becker's face as his bullet count lowered dangerously.
"Hurry it up, Connor!" he hissed impatiently.
"Alright, done!" said Connor triumphantly, holding several bottles in his fingerless-gloved hands and scurrying towards Becker.
Becker motioned the team to stand by him. He noticed Danny's face however. Danny was watching Becker carefully, noting his movements. So Danny knew the plan then. Becker sighed. He hadn't anticipated Danny's cooperation and would just have to deal with that when the time came.
"Alright guys," he whispered, "Connor, you're going to roll out those bottles and we're going to use the smoke to make it to the elevator shaft. We'll have a minute or so while the soldiers are disoriented enough to stop firing."
The team nodded. Danny's eyes narrowed slightly but he also went along with Becker's idea.
Becker held the advancing soldiers at bay with his last few gunshots as he briefed everyone.
"Go Connor!" he said finally. Connor lit the short fuses on the bottles and rolled them as far down into the hallway as he could. With only a few seconds delay, they blew.
The corridor filled instantly with white powdery mist. The shouts of Johnson's men seemed amplified by the sound distortion. Becker waited a few seconds as the men fanned blind shots through the mist, and then stopped.
"Stop, stop!" he heard a soldier yell. "We can't risk shooting Quinn, we'll get 'em in a sec, hang on lads!"
"Go!" whispered Becker.
The team raced forward, remembering rather than seeing where the elevator shaft was. They could hear each other's breaths amplified slightly. They gained the shaft door and, while Danny and Connor prized it open, Becker turned and faced the corridor they had come from, hoping against hope that the powdery mist wouldn't evaporate too quickly. He could hear the soldiers calling instructions to each other. They didn't seem quite as disoriented as he had hoped.
The doors finally slid open, and Sarah climbed in first, followed shortly by Connor, then Abby. She threw a worried look back at Becker as her friends helped her cling to the ropes inside the dark tunnel. Danny turned to face Becker, one hand on the ropes inside the shaft and one hand stretched out to Becker's shoulder.
"I know what you're trying to do, mate," Danny whispered worriedly, "Come on, you can't help us by staying behind!"
The lines around Becker's mouth tightened. He looked back at Danny and then at his teammates who had already begun to climb downwards.
"They need you, Danny," he whispered back. "This is my job, I found you guys a way out now you take it."
Danny opened his mouth to say something else but before he could Becker hissed again, "This is my job. Protecting you lot. If I can make your chances better by staying behind and holding them off for a little bit then I know what I have to do. Now get out of here, and Danny, you keep them safe."
Danny nodded slowly.
"I promise, mate" he said, and without a sound, dropped into the shaft and out of sight.
With the rest of the team disappearing into the elevator shaft, Becker turned and walked softly back to the main corridor. He followed the wall until he reached the main atrium of the ARC. He could see where Johnson's soldiers had retreated and were now consulting schematics of the ARC, trying to find the team. The place was lost. Becker smiled tightly At least he had been able to get his friends to safety, and if he had anything to do with it, the soldiers wouldn't know anything about the underground garage until it was too late. He drew his gun again.
"Drop your weapons!" he yelled, stepping into the atrium quickly and brandishing his weapon, which he hoped the soldier's didn't know was empty.
"Hold your fire!" he heard from the mass ahead of him. No one shot.
A uniformed soldier approached him confidently and aimed his weapon. Simultaneously another soldier closed in behind Becker and aimed.
"No, sir, you drop yours."
When Becker didn't obey immediately, the soldier behind him stepped up and cocked his gun barrel against Becker's head. Before the gun could make contact, however, Becker quickly sidestepped and instead brought his own handgun down on his attacker's arm, making the man drop the weapon and howl with agony.
"Don't shoot!" boomed the Captain, "We need him!"
Becker straightened up in time to see five soldiers rush him. He kept using the useless gun as a club and managed to give two of the men broken noses and the other three some spectacular bruises before they knocked his legs out from under him and tackled him to the ground. They dragged Becker's arms behind his back and cuffed him, twisting his wrists more than was strictly necessary in the process. One of the grizzled soldiers with blood dripping from his nose flipped Becker over and grinned menacingly into the younger man's face.
"Thanks for giving us a reason," he sneered, and backhanded Becker hard across the face.
Becker felt his cheek go numb from the force of the blow as something warm trickled out of his mouth. He bucked his hips and legs, trying to dislodge the man looming over him, but the soldier had better leverage. He gripped Becker's hair painfully tight and slammed the back of his head against the floor.
Becker's vision exploded with light. He tried desperately to slip his hands out of the cuffs, but the soldiers had made them too tight even for someone as experienced as him. His vision cleared to show the grizzled soldier still looming above him and apparently getting ready to give him another blow. Becker summoned all the strength he had left and, jerking his legs up, flipped the man over and dumped him on the ground a few feet away. His head was still ringing as a sharp pain in his left leg made him gasp soundlessly. He looked wildly around to see another soldier straightening up with a short nightstick in his hand.
The others clearly had the go-ahead from their commander and one stepped forward to kick Becker in the ribs. He rolled onto his side, trying to inch away but another kick to the stomach stopped his movements and left him struggling for breath. Suddenly one of the soldiers dragged him upright by pulling on his cuffed wrists. Becker hung, awkwardly suspended from behind by his bound arms as another man stepped forward and punched him in the stomach repeatedly. Winded and gasping painfully, his struggles grew weaker.
The captain approached slowly. When he was near enough, he put his hand under Becker's chin and forced his head up. Becker didn't look away. Even with blood all over his face he managed to look like a worthy opponent.
"Ms. Johnson has a few questions for you," the captain said, eyes boring into Becker's.
"She can ask all she wants," said Becker through broken lips, "I'm not telling her anything that will compromise this team," His dark eyes didn't falter, "I warn you, I'm a professional."
The captain smiled tightly. "As I'm sure you'll soon find, so am I."