The sound of the military jets above him made Jake glance at the dark sky. He hadn't moved from his position on the rocky mountain in the last two days, and his body ached. Jake glanced into the scope on the sniper riffle. The Afghanistan tribal leader he was waiting for was supposed to arrive a day and a half ago, and Jake was beginning to worry. He had begun to worry that the Intel might have been bad, but he was alone on this mission so he had no choice but to wait. Then Jake saw movement about twenty yards away a large jeep appeared in the valley below. Jake sate up a little straighter checked his scope pulled off the safety. The leader had four bodyguards tow in the back seat two the front seat, a shot while they would still in the car would be imposable.
Jake never got a chance to take the shot though he was knocked out from behind (one of the down falls of working alone.) When he came to Jake was strapped to a chair Arabic was spoken in the background.
"Name and rank!"
The voice spoke in accented English, and was followed by a punch to his face. Jake bit down on the inside of his cheek he draw blood. He would need to be strong straightening his resolve to pain, and wait for death. Jake closed his eyes as the blows landed on him and the orders 'nameandnameandrank' were repeated over and over again. After what seemed like an entirety they throw him in a hole. Jake crawls up against the dirty corner of the hole and pulls his knees up to his chin. They don't know his name that much Jake is shore he didn't have dog tags on him, he had arrived a nobody and he would die a nobody B613 expected nothing less.
When he woke someone was slapping him Jake shut his eyes screw this if they wanted to kill him then just do it.
"Captain Ballard."
Just kill him.
"Captain Ballard."
Wait, he hadn't told them his name. Jake's eyes snapped open a marine was standing over him, he must be hallucinating, he wanted to cry.
"Captain Ballard I'm here to help can you stand?" the marine asked.
Jake started at the hallucination it seemed irrational to answer something that wasn't real, but really what did he have to lose so he nodded then everything went black.
"Jake, Jake."
Jake knew that voice it was the voice from summers at the cape running on the beach the smell of bourbon on his father's breath. It hurts to breath, but he opens his eyes. Fitz is smiling a tight smile that he only used when he was truly worried. He is older than the last time Jake saw him more fine lines around his eyes. Jake read an article that a sitting president aged more in one year than an average man aged in five. Seeing his half brother now Jake had to agree Fitz looked exhausted.
"F-Fitz," Jake said his voice scratchy from weeks of unused.
Fitz smiled he was relived, and Jake was surprised they hadn't exactly left on good terms. It was unreal seeing each other after five years. Fitz was the president, and Jake a man who should be dead.
"I'm so glade you're alright Jake we all are. I-I thought," Fitz looked down at his hand they were shaking.
Jake started him not shore if Fitz was grand standing he glanced around the hospital room and surprised to fine they were alone. Fitz recovered quickly his expression was earnest as he looked at his brother.
"It's done Jake it's time to come home," Fitz says his voice strong commanding, that's an order.
Jake is tired, he's tired of B613 of death blood and fighting. He's tired of watching his brother from afar as though they are strangers, as though he were a civilian.
"Yes sir, "Jake says.
Fitz smiles he's glade to have something back that's his.