Title: The Unit
Author: Guyana Rose
Rating: T
Pairing: Santana Lopez & Quinn Fabray
Word Count: 1,590
Summary: While on a supply mission Quinn and her team are betrayed by her co-pilot. The Unit's Alpha & Gamma teams are sent in to rescue the captured soldiers. Quinntana Week, Day 4: Professionals In Uniform. Slight The Unit crossover.
Prompt: Quinntana Week, Day 4: Professionals In Uniform
Disclaimer: I own only the story itself. Glee belongs to R.I.B. & The Unit belongs to David Mamet & Shawn Ryan.
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Chapter 1
Quinn's P.O.V.
It's hot, damn near smoldering. But I suppose that's better than it being ice cold. Fucking Sebastian, I swear I'm going to bust his head open the first chance I get. Jackass gave me bad vibes when we were in high school and now; I really should've known better than to let him get in the chopper beside me. We had a simple mission. All we needed to do was drop off some medical supplies and ammo; and what happened? Somehow Sebastian had found out the location of the base, which was supposed to be secret, and sold it to the other side. As I was flying over I thought it seemed quiet; even for it being nighttime. But it wasn't until I had landed and exited the helicopter with the other two members of my team that I knew something was dead wrong. I easily spotted the bullet holes in the doors closest to where I was standing and shell casings lay everywhere. I gave the order to get back on the chopper but it was too late. When I turned around Sebastian introduced the butt of his gun to my forehead, knocking me off balance. Before I knew it we were surrounded.
I thought we'd be separated, but they keep us all in this, getting hotter by the minute, room. Brittany's sitting next to me, and Sam is on the other side of her. Twice they've come in to question us. The first time they came in, they grabbed Brittany and held guns on me and Sam to make sure we didn't try anything. Brittany didn't tell them a thing but her name. She took the beating they gave her and spit blood in the face of the guy questioning her. She got a few kicks as payment; I think she may have gotten more were it not for the fact that she started laughing. The second time they came in; they grabbed Sam and repeated the process. The guy asking the questions again caught a face full of blood and again his body guards were halted in their assault by laughter.
All our lives my siblings and I were given labels. Obsessive, brainiac, nerd, slow, and everyone had a damn blonde joke; but you know what, none of it ever mattered. I mean look at us; our lives are in danger on any given day of the week because of the covert missions we get sent on. We're fucking badasses of the highest degree.
You know how people always say it's the quiet ones? Well, that kind of describes us. We let you assume you have the upper-hand; we let you assume we're weak, and when you least expect it? Like these idiot's that are holding us, you get the blood that you spilt spit right back in your eyes. If you choose to continue to come at us, like these guards have, we'll laugh in your fucking face. Now that may seem like a small, albeit, weird thing; but to a trained killer, like the ones that are holding us right now, it says something.
What you have to understand is that a trained killer, an expert in pain, knows exactly where to hit the human body to cause the most amount of pain. Me and my siblings get sent on these dangerous missions where hostage situations can happen for one reason. We were born with a rare birth defect that allows us to feel no pain. Now I know what you're thinking, we should be killing small animals or be holding captives in our secret basement or something. I take no offense, that's the part that makes our situation very unique. We're nowhere near the crazy side of the spectrum. Of course that is a detail that is kept under wraps by our superiors. It's a detail our captors don't know.
My best guess right now is they're going to question Sebastian to find out what type of people he led them to. I've heard they have crazy superstitions over here. And then, since no one's touched me yet, they're going to send Sebastian in to prove that they made a sound investment in trusting him. And speak of the devil; just as I thought the little pissant is walking in now.
"Starfleet doesn't negotiate with your sort traitor. Tell them to send that chunky boy back in here. He looked nice and soft; I could eat him up all day."
Brittany and I can't help but chuckle as Sam makes a show of licking his lips. The guard that walked in with Sebastian, who I'm beginning to think is the leader, tells Sebastian to translate what Sam had said. When he does as he is told Sam turns to the guard standing right beside him and blows a kiss at him. I don't think I've ever seen anyone move so quickly. The guard shoots over to the other side of the room faster than I can blink. I forgot; this is the Middle East. They don't take too kindly to us gay folks. I'm sure that had we acted like normal humans Sam probably would have gotten a bullet to the back of his head by now. But as it stands, it seems that they're afraid of us. Which is fine by me; they don't understand our physiology. It's not that we can't die if we're shot; it's just that if the shot isn't in an extremely damaging place, it'll be a wasted bullet. But I don't think they're willing to chance anything; this is where those crazy superstitions they have will work to our advantage.
"Whatever you're going to do Spark Plug, you better do it fast. My army of rabid unicorns is tracking us as we speak," Brittany says.
Again, Sebastian is ordered to translate. But he's staying quiet. Because he knows that however outlandish Brittany's comment sounds, she's absolutely right. We are way past our check-in time and our spouses have the clout to get shit rolling at the drop of a dime. Sebastian is quiet for too long, so I translate for him. The lead guard doesn't look too pleased. I use his anger to our advantage. It doesn't take much; I just keep talking and talking and planting more and more doubt about Sebastian. The end result? Exactly what I wanted it to be; they let me challenge Sebastian to a fight. I could end it quickly, but what would be the fun in that?
3rd Person P.O.V.
"What is the time Corporal?"
Colonel Ryan is pacing Central Command; he is not currently a happy man.
"Delivery should've been made five hours ago Colonel. They should've been halfway home by now, sir."
"Send word to Sergeant Major Blane that he and his team are wheels up in forty. Do also inform him that he will be joined by members of the Gamma Team."
"Yes, sir."
Colonel Ryan leaves Central Command and makes his way to the building he knows the Gamma Team is running drills in. He watches silently from the observation room and waits for the all-clear order before entering the training room.
"Colonel Ryan Sir, this is a surprise."
"And I do wish it was on better circumstances. As it stands, Lopez and Puckerman squared, the Alpha Team is expecting you on the tarmac in thirty. You'll be briefed once you're on board."
Colonel Ryan doesn't stick around to answer questions, nor does anyone think to ask. Rachel and Noah Puckerman follow Santana Lopez out the door. The trio already knows what is happening. The only reason they would be called in on a mission with the Alpha Team, is if their wives and husband were in trouble.
As they walk out onto the tarmac they spy Sergeant Major Jonas Blane waiting for them. They double their speed so they don't keep him waiting long.
"Gamma Team reporting for duty, sir," Sergeant Lopez and her team members salute.
"Welcome aboard Gamma Team. It's my understanding we have some family to rescue before they're broken."
The Corporals Puckerman both scoff behind their Sergeant, but both know better than to speak before their superior does.
"I'm afraid you've been misinformed Sir," Sergeant Lopez states.
"Is that right?"
"They won't even be able to bend them," Santana answers.
"Well alright then," Blane says with a chuckle, "let's get to it."
"Yes sir." They all answer as they take their seats and strap in.
"Pilot, get us in the air."
"Getting us in the air, sir."
To be continued…