Casting Mountains to the Sea

By: Ridley

A/N: This chapter was so much a team effort. The magnificent, aficionado of all things G.I. Jack, Gib offered so many great military insights and my dear Beta, Mary worked tirelessly to make sure I had the boys in character even though they are in an extreme situation. She is the guru of what I like to call tasteful hurt/comfort. Thanks you guys. Thank you also to those of you who reviewed the first chapter. The enthusiastic reception and kind praise has been both humbling and encouraging. I hope this extra long chapter shows just a tiny bit of my appreciation. Enjoy!Then let me know what you think!

RcJ

Jack kept up his litany of prayers right through their night jump over Barikju, and into their hike to the shelled out outskirts of the village where they met up with a British garrison and a small unit of marines on the northern side of town. The soldiers reported they had maintained sat phone contact with Mac's unit until the latest round of heavy fire from the Taliban which had only been an hour before Jack's team had arrived.

"Still nothing." Pauley who had been trying to reach Mac's SAT phone as well told Jack with a scowl. "Either Shepherd's phone was destroyed in that last barrage or…"

"We need to go in," Jack cut him off gruffly, unwilling to let the worst case scenario be spoken out loud.

"That's easier said than done." One of the British soldiers tapped a grid map he had placed on a make-shift table. "This town is laid out like a maze built upon a maze. Not only do we have the insurgents to our west to contend with, we also have the locals willing to pick us off from any vantage point they can find, of which there are many. The dark will provide some cover, but we have not had any success in reaching the police station which is unfortunately in the center of town."

One of his teammates picked up. "The main road is known to be strewn with IEDs. We clear the bloody street one day and the Taliban replant more explosives overnight. It's treacherous travel in the bright of day, let alone now."

"There could be another way," Landry spoke before Jack could. He took another map, one he'd created himself before they'd left base and spread it next to that of their allies.

"What have you got, Columbus?" Jack studied the plans over his teammates's shoulder. He firmly believed Landry could find anything and anyone. Not only was he obsessed with orienteering, he'd been a prized cartographer, even hand drawing his own maps for his work in the private sector where he made mad cash analyzing aerial photographs and statistics. That was until 9-11 when he'd lost a brother in the terrorist attacks. Like many Americans, Landry's life had been turned upside down, irreparably altered when the dust settled. He found himself creating offensive strategic maps and charting unexplored territory in a foreign land for the Army Rangers.

"After Hammond gave us the location, I pulled a dozen plus maps of this area from satellite images, and some from thermal and passive seismic ground penetrating radar. I think there's a good possibility that an underground system may lead to that police station Mac's unit is holed up in." He pointed to a colored area on his sketch. "It was originally nothing more than an old jail for the surrounding areas worst criminals, even some high-valued war prisoners."

"Are you saying the Afghans used some kind of subterranean cavern to get prisoners in and out of there without having to worry about being ambushed?" Pauley asked, narrowing his gaze to study the map with his teammates. He glanced at Jack, who only shrugged in response. Jack could read a topographic grid map with the best of them, but the squiggles and symbols Columbus came up with was way over his pay grade.

"Cavern is probably being overly optimistic. This isn't like the shafts used for strategic fighting, or underground combat, at least I don't think so. They may be more like those snake tunnels we found in Pakistan." Landry scratched his head. "Remember the ones where we had to crawl meters flat on our bellies."

"Awesome." Jack rubbed a hand over his face. Afghanistan was one of the most mountainous countries in the world, but it had a legacy of natural caves, as well as secret bunkers and ancient hollowed forts and compounds that had served its people well. They were natural tunnelers, which gave credence to Landry's proposal.

"With the shelling this region has taken, an abandoned tunnel might have collapsed a long time ago," Pauley pointed out unhelpfully.

"True, but I think it may be our best shot. If what I'm thinking is right, the shaft should lead us straight into the police station, straight to Shepherd."

"Columbus, you and I will go." Jack left no room open for suggestions. It was the obvious choice. Landry was not only like a one man LoJack he was also trained for mountain search and rescue from his old civilian days, which meant he had more medical knowledge than Jack. It would also leave Pauley behind to work his own particular set of skills. "Loman, you do your thang and see if you can find us any friendlies in the area to help us maneuver the streets in case Columbus's secret passage doesn't work out."

"Sure." Pauley rolled his eyes. "Leave it to me to make nice with the IED wielding locals and promote good PR with the patrons who'd rather greet me with a gun or a grenade than a handshake why don't, you."

"God gave you those looks and charm for a reason, Dude." Jack grinned. They had pegged Pauley early on as the conman of their group. He could sell anything and get anything from wherever they were, like Face from the A-team, if Face had been a six foot five black man with a linguistics degree. "It sure hasn't helped you any with the ladies."

Pauley raised his middle finger prominently at Jack. "Tell Shepherd he owes me a fucking beer or three when this mission is over."

"I think you still owe the kid a couple from disarming that pressure mine you stepped on back in Kabul. Don't you agree, Tombstone?" Landry snorted. "Shepherd didn't even make fun of him when he pissed his pants."

Pauley doubled his hand gesture and shifted it to include Landry. "Don't you sonsofbitches have a hole to crawl into?"

Jack turned to the two British soldiers watching the interplay with some curiosity. "We have our SAT phone, but you keep trying to reach MacGyver's team. We'll let you know if we make it to the station or we'll be back around to work another strategy."

Jack hoped to hell they didn't need another strategy. Again, he didn't wait for an affirmative before sliding his night goggles on and following Landry and his hand drawn maps out of the makeshift compound. They could hear the shelling growing louder as they made their way around the perimeter of the town to where Landry believed they'd find the mouth of the tunnel.

Usually large mounds of earth were markers for an opening to one of the Afghanistan underground passageways, but Landry believed they'd find this one in the more covert guises of an abandoned municipal building he'd marked. Most private dwellings in the area were made from baked mud, but the more important structures were built from baked brick and mortar. Jack sent up a quick, silent thank you as Landry gave him the thumbs up when they'd apparently located the X on his treasure map.

After an initial sweep of the long-abandoned structure for squatters and active booby traps, Landry set about searching for a concealed entrance to the passageway. Jack was always surprised by the man's innate ability to uncover covert pathways. Despite everything a small grin twitched around Jack's mouth. He thought they should maybe have given his teammate the nickname Indiana Jones instead of Christopher Columbus.

"I think I might have something." Landry slid his gun around to his back, freeing his hands. He nodded to Jack. "Give me a little help here, Tombstone."

Jack backed his way to the far side of the room where Landry was studying a massive bookshelf. Jack looked at the other operative, then glanced once more to the doorway. "Seriously, man?"

"The floor is cement. Not exactly conducive to a trap door." Landry panned his flashlight around every corner and crevice, looking for any signs of trip wires. If this was truly their hidden entrance it would be a perfect spot for an unpleasant surprise. "This has to be it, and it's clear as far as I can tell."

"Isn't there just a freaky old statue we can overturn, or a carving we can push?" Jack grunted as he put his shoulder into sliding the solid wooden structure a few feet.

"In my dreams maybe," Landry replied as they accomplished moving the shelves far enough away from the wall that he could slide behind it.

"My dreams usually contain a table of barbecue and the fixings from the best mom and pop place in my home town called the Smokin' Pig and a harem of super models to feed me." Jack said, returning his attention to covering the door. Thoughts of home brought a familiar sense of melancholy which Jack quickly shoved away, along with his gnawing worry for Mac. He had to stay completely focused on the mission.

"And people say you're shallow with a one track mind." Landry popped back into view.

"What people?" Jack demanded.

"Only those who know you best." Landry flashed a quick grin, jutting his head towards the wall. He pointed his flashlight so Jack could get a look at the two foot opening that had been revealed. "Ready to go down the rabbit hole, Alice?"

"If it leads us to Mac, I'll even attend the Mad Hatter's tea party." Jack turned the flashlight on his rifle on, scanning the small entrance. It was covered in cobwebs. Not a nice sight for the squeamish at heart, but a good indication the passageway hadn't been used in a while. He was also thankful that the path was large enough that they didn't have to crawl, but it still required that they stoop and duck-walk to keep from hitting their heads as they entered. "Let's lose the night vision and stick with flashlights. This place looks as stark as a strip club on Sunday morning. Stay sharp just in case we come across any unwanted traffic."

"On the rare chance that there are some lingering patrons, how about you try not to shoot any mice this time, Tombstone." Landry shot a smirk over his shoulder as he clipped his goggles onto his pack. "We wouldn't want to alert them that there are predators afoot."

"That was once," Jack grumbled as he started off after the other operator. "And mouse my ass. It was a huge honking rat, more like an armadillo with fur."

"Don't think we don't know why you always like to bring up the rear anytime we're underground?" Landry continued to tease.

"How about we maintain silence until you actually have something relevant to report, Sergeant." Jack realized his teammate was trying to distract him from what they might find at the end of the tunnel, which could very well be one of Jack's recently recurring nightmares, but the fact Landry thought the ribbing was called for only added to Jack's worry.

Landry laughed at the order but did as Jack commanded and kept quiet. They'd been moving for what seemed like hours, which Jack knew in reality hadn't been more than maybe twenty to thirty minutes tops, when Landry finally spoke.

"Well this is a surprise." He held up a hand for Jack to hold. "I think we actually do have some kind of cavern coming up just ahead."

"Is it the opening to the jail?" Jack moved closer to Landry, rolling his tensed shoulders.

"I don't think we've gone far enough for that." Landry held his flashlight in front of him, jumping down a few feet into the open area. Jack followed and they performed a quick sweep of the room before Landry pulled a VisiPad from his pack. He stuck the mobile light to one of the walls, activating it so the interior glowed an eerie orange. "I'm guessing they might have used this as some sort of holding room. Maybe even for interrogation."

Jack took a look at the overturned chairs. There were the remains of what might have been a cot, telling stains still visible on the thin mattress, a broken chain and one metal wrist cuff dangling from a rail. "What do you say we keep moving?"

"My thoughts exactly." Landry started forward when a rumble shook the ground beneath them, sending a small scattering of debris from above. "The shelling is only going to get stronger as we move into the city."

Jack sent a skeptical glance upward. "Let's just hope Mac and his team have been lucky in avoiding the worst of it."

"Shepherd's as smart as they come." Landry grunted as he climbed up and into the opposite tunnel on the far side of the small dug out space. "I know we tease him about being green, but he's been here long enough to know the lay of the land better than most."

"Is that your way of telling me I shouldn't worry so much?" Jack used both hands to hoist himself up on the lip of the crevice. He gripped his gun again, using his free hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The Afghanistan heat was still relentless even underground. "Because you know us single-minded, shallow fellas don't spend a lot of time worrying."

Landry snorted. "There's an ongoing pool on when you will finally talk Hammond into officially bringing Mac into Delta so you can keep an eye on him full time."

"That's not really The Hammer's decision to make." The tunnel had at least opened up to a much wider path now that they were on the other side of the room. They could almost stand their full height and weren't forced to walk single file any longer. "Higher ups have to have a hand in that."

"So you have asked?" Landry had picked up the pace a bit with the easier terrain.

"No," Jack snapped, increasing his speed as well. It wasn't like he hadn't given the idea some consideration, especially after he'd gotten to know Mac. The kid was brilliant and was damn good at what he did, but if Jack was honest, it wasn't his skills as an EOD specialist that prompted Jack's rationalization for bringing him into The Unit. "It's not like the kid would accept anyway. There's a little too much gray in what we do I'm afraid. MacGyver would rather fix problems than takeout the people causing said problems."

Landry slowed and shot Jack a curious look over his shoulder. "Mac doesn't judge your position on the team. He might not like your particular skillset but he respects it. You know that, right?"

"You and Mac been having heart to hearts, have you?" Jack nudged his teammate's shoulder to get him moving faster, not really keen on analyzing what the kid thought of him. It had caught Jack off guard the first time MacGyver laid out his rationale for not using a gun. At first, he'd thought it was some kind of joke. Who came to the war and didn't use a freaking gun? As it turned out, Mac, at heart, was a damn pacifist. Jack, on the other hand not only respected guns for what they could do, but relied on one to make a living. "Because last time I checked, Shepherd doesn't exactly wax heavy on the deep conversations."

"We talk geography. He's likes my theory about the underground city I think could lie under Kabul." Landry started moving again. "He's a spelunker you know."

"What?" Jack swore as another round of shelling sent more of the tunnel raining over them. Landry had been right about their increased proximity to the battle.

"He likes cave exploration," Landry explained. "His father used to take him."

"You don't say." Jack winced at the mention of Mac's father. It was a subject they'd discussed briefly a few times, enough for Jack to know the man had walked out on Mac when he was just a kid. They sure as hell hadn't discussed any warm family memories.

They moved in silence for another seemingly endless stretch of time, the shelling going on above ground indeed becoming more pronounced as they continued.

"I think we're starting to move up hill," Landry spoke, slowing to check his map. He shone his flashlight on the paper. "We have to be close."

"We've come about seven clicks now." Jack stopped, leaning his back against one side of the tunnel so that he could wipe the sweat dripping in his eyes. "Does that line up with what you marked out?"

"Just about." Landry wrestled his water free from his pack and took a long drink. "We have no way of letting Mac know we're nearby. SAT phones are useless at this depth. We sure as hell don't want to be shot by Afghan friendlies."

"We'll find a way to let him know when we make it to that point." Jack smirked at Landry. "Knowing our luck we'll have another three hundred pound book shelf to move before we can get out of here."

They hadn't gone much further when Landry once more drew up short. "Do you smell smoke?"

"I do." Jack gave a slight cough. There was another odor as well. One that was distinctive and unforgettable. Jack had been in too many strike zones not to recognize it. Even a close hit could cause a fire cyclone, literal raging infernos that could incinerate everything burnable including the people unfortunate enough to be caught in its path.

"We shouldn't be getting this unless the passageway to up top is already open and we're receiving air from outside where the fighting is heavy." Landry glanced to Jack, seeming to read the trepidation in his worried frown. "It's possible Mac remembered the conversations about the tunnels. If things got too hot out there, he might have tried to find it."

Jack didn't give Landry any more time to pose possible more optimistic theories. "Let's move."

Not waiting for Landry to comply, Jack slid past the other man to take point. He moved quickly but with caution, relieved when the tunnel suddenly opened into another cavern, almost identical to the holding room they'd been surprised by earlier.

Jack's reprieve was short-lived as the smoke and dust grew thicker and the VisiPad Landry withdrew and placed on one of the walls illuminated the reality of their situation. Unlike the previous ca-vern this one had a huge pile of brick and rubble nearly filling the small squared space. It was as if the floor, or ceiling as the case was, had given way sending the room above and everything in it tumbling down. Jack recognized metal bars, and sun-baked brick, as well as the very top of a book shelf, the kind he'd joked about being a hindrance only minutes before. The giant dark hole directly above seemed to be the source of the smoke which was filtering in from the battle going on outside.

"Oh shit." Landry stopped beside Jack. They stood shoulder to shoulder, surveying the carnage around them. "The station must have taken a direct hit. Or several by the looks of it."

Jack knew it would explain why the marines lost contact with Mac's team and the ANP's, but he would not bring himself to even entertain the idea that all hope was lost.

"It's only been a few hours since Mac last reported." Jack moved forward, shoulders set with determination as he intended to start the arduous process of digging their way through the rubble. It would not end this way, not in some burned out, gutted village in Helmand. Landry reached out and gripped Jack's arm before he could begin.

"Tombstone."

Jack jerked away, Landry's tone, more than his hold halting the senior operator mid-stride. Jack let his gaze go to the spot Landry's other hand was pointing. At first his mind didn't want to connect the dots, refusing to comprehend what his vision was communicating to sensitive receptors in the brain that were trained to translate images into meaning. There was a boot sticking out of the rubble. A standard military grade boot, attached to a camo-clad leg that disappeared beneath the mixture of earth and rubble. What had been nothing more than a surmountable obstacle to where Jack wanted to go was now more tantamount to some macabre sculpture or worse, quite possibly a makeshift grave.

"Move," Jack ordered. Both he and Landry slung their weapons to their backs, freeing their hands to begin digging through the mess. The Deacon's quote of scripture about The Shepherd he'd voiced back at base filled Jack's mind as he tossed rubble and bricks away in a haphazard manner that probably should have been better thought out. As it was, men were buried and getting them free before they smothered or were crushed further when the rest of the room above gave way was Jack's first priority. He called out Mac's name, hoping to hell the kid heard him.

They uncovered the first man fairly quickly, the unfortunate one belonging to the boot. It wasn't Mac. Thank God. Half the man's skull was crushed.

"He's gone." Landry said, needlessly as he and Jack moved the soldier into the one free corner of the room. Landry ran a hand over the man's eyes, closing them. He met Jack's gaze, wiping the blood from his palms onto his pants, a mutual understanding passed between them.

"Keep going." Jack was sorry the man was dead, sorry he was probably a friend of Mac's, a colleague and brother in arms at the least, but his mission was to find Mac and nothing was going to stop him from fulfilling that objective.

"My money is on Mac finding a way down here when the shelling got too heavy to wait out reinforcements." Landry talked as he worked. It was his way of processing. Ironically, Jack, who typically filled each breath with speech, remained silent. "Only to have a direct strike send the whole damn place down on top of them."

Jack kept working, refusing to believe Mac's fate might be the same as the other man from his unit. Jack called out to Mac again. He and Landry had just pulled another dead soldier from the rubble and placed him near his downed comrade when Jack was almost positive he heard his name.

"I'll be damned," Landry swore, his gaze roaming over the remains of the room.

"You heard that, too?" Jack sought out his teammate's face, looking for confirmation he wasn't merely imagining Mac's voice.

"You bet I did," Landry replied. They started back to the rubble, both yelling for Mac with renewed vigor.

Jack held up his hand when he heard his name again.

"The bookshelf," Landry pointed to the wooden piece that was jutting from the top of the pile, wedged against the far end of the dirt wall.

Jack knelt as close to it as he could. "Mac? Can you hear me?"

"Jack?" The reply was muffled and weak, but sweet music to Jack's ears. He glanced at Landry. "See if you can find something to use as a lever. Maybe one of the jail bars. We're going to need help getting this thing off him."

Sliding the similar solid wood behemoth over a cement floor was one thing, lifting its twin straight up, another. But even straining under its weight, Jack had never been more thankful for the bulk and hearty construction as it seemed to have protected Mac from a much worse fate. It took more time than Jack would have liked but he and Landry managed to get the piece moved, flipping it over to find Mac in far better shape than his buddies.

"Damn, Kid." Jack tossed aside the layer of bricks that had pummeled Mac before the bookshelf had strategically fallen across him to give the EOD some blessed shelter. He was never so happy to see someone's face, even if it was dirty and partially covered in blood. Mac's eyes were closed. "Talk to me, Mac."

"His pulse is fast and thready, but strong." Landry already had his fingers pressed against the side of Mac's neck, his other hand tracing the blood trail through Mac's hair. "Looks like a pretty good gash to the head. I don't see bone, and the bleeding has slowed."

Jack appreciated Landry's amateur medic status, but he wanted Mac out of the rubble and into a safer area, especially since the shelling had picked up once more and debris continued to shower them. At this point they were all in serious jeopardy.

"Do you think it's safe to move him?" Jack realized even as he asked that 'not moving' wasn't going to be an option for much longer when a heavy explosion shook the entire room. It sent him scrambling to cover as much of Mac as possible when larger chunks of the floor above fell, an ominous groan filling the small space as if the entire foundation might give way at any second.

"Sonofa…" Landry grunted from his own hunkered position, hands covering his head. "In my professional opinion, we don't have much of a choice, Captain."

Jack moved from across Mac, letting a hand rest against the kid's face. Mac's skin was cool and clammy despite the heat in the room. "Come on, Kid. You want to weigh in on Columbus's evaluation?"

To Jack's surprise Mac opened his eyes. "Jack?"

Jack's laugh sounded a little too much like a sob. "Dude, it's about damn time."

"Mac, do you think anything's broken?" Landry tried for a quick assessment.

Mac blinked, obviously not with it. He continued to look at Jack. "How'd you get here?"

"Long story, Kiddo." Jack glanced at Landry and then refocused on Mac. "We need to know how bad you're hurt before we pull you out of here."

"My head," Mac slurred, coughing. His face contorted with pain and he tried lifting his hand.

Jack caught it, gripping it tight in his own. "Anything else, bud."

"Left side and chest." Mac grimaced as if merely mentally cataloging his injuries were painful. "It's bad."

"Broken ribs." Landry tilted his head, studying Mac's flak jacket. He gave Jack a look that said there could be something more, but didn't voice as much. "I'm guessing the bottom half of the shelf did a number when it landed on him. I'll check him out better when we're somewhere clear."

Jack nodded, already dreading whatever had been left unsaid. "Mac, how many men were down here with you?"

Mac's eyes closed for a moment. When he forced them open again, Jack was glad to see a bit more clarity although it was quickly joined with a flash of panic. "Two. Candler and Stills. They were here, Jack. Just a minute ago…"

"Hey, take it easy." Jack moved his hand to Mac's shoulder as the kid tried to push himself up. He didn't want to explain to his friend that 'just a minute ago' was probably more like two hours if their estimated time line was correct. "Let me and Landry do the work."

"They were here." Mac said again, his agitation growing as the weak struggle to move gave way under Jack's slight resistance. He gripped Jack's hand. "They were…"

"What about the others, Shepherd?" Landry interrupted. "The ANP's?"

"The Afghans…" Mac took a hitched breath, the act looking far too difficult for Jack's liking. "The police officers, they were killed by an earlier blast. We found this tunnel after...the three of us …just made it down when another direct strike hit. You have to get Stills and Candler."

"We already located them, Mac." Jack didn't look at Mac as he nodded to Landry who bent to slip one hand behind Mac's head. Now they had all the Intel they required to clear out. There were no other survivors to account for. "Columbus and I just need to get you out of here, before this whole damn place falls in like a frigging house of cards."

Mac cried out as the two Deltas pulled him from the wreckage and got him on his feet. Jack clenched his teeth against the sound, staggering slightly when Landry shifted Mac so Jack could take the bulk of the kid's weight as he crawled across the wreckage and over to the fallen men.

"Easy, brother. I've got you." Jack kept Mac tucked against him, turned away from the bodies of his two downed teammates as he moved them towards the tunnel. He trusted Landry to follow protocol and take care of the lost soldiers, tagging their dog tags, doing whatever else he could to ensure the men would be found by a recovery team once the area was secured. Jack hated to leave any man behind, even those who were beyond helping, but the awful reality was that Mac was the only one who would benefit from being carried out of the tunnels with any urgency and further risk to their lives.

Jack let Landry help him get Mac up into the tunnel and then let the sergeant set the pace, taking point to guide them back out. Mac was in bad shape, struggling to put one foot in front of the other, even with Jack holding him up and taking most of his weight. His breath was short and shallow, hitching with every step, his head hanging low, and chin almost touching his chest. They had been moving maybe twenty minutes when Mac suddenly tensed, going completely rigid.

"Jack, stop."

The demand was weak, but pleading. Jack did as the kid said, just in time for Mac to pull away. Jack nearly lost his hold as the EOD doubled over and was violently sick.

"Damn." Jack kept a hold of the kid, glancing up ahead of them where he could see the glow of his teammate's flashlight. "Landry, hold up."

Landry made it back to them just as Jack was easing a shaky Mac away from the mess. He moved to help but Jack shook his head, pulling one miserable looking Mac back close to his side. "I got him, but he's not going to make it much farther like this."

"That first holding room we came across is close," Landry said. "It's far enough away from the heavier shelling that you two should be safe until I can reach the top to use the SAT phone to relay our position for reinforcements and a proper medic."

Jack didn't like the idea of splitting up, but he would never leave Mac alone and the fact was the kid wasn't going to be able to walk out of there let alone crawl through the space they'd had to maneuver at the beginning of the tunnel. Rigging some crude litter for transport could cause Mac more damage. Jack had no choice but to concede.

Thankfully, Landry was right about the cavern being close. Mac was sick again on the way, Jack was practically carrying his friend before they made it to the opening. He had to hand the kid off to Landry as he climbed out of the passageway, Mac rousing some with the change.

"Jack?"

"I'm here, bud." Jack reclaimed one of Mac's arms, letting Landry help maneuver their friend across the holding area.

"Let's put him here, Jack, so I can check him over before I head up top." Landry motioned to the old cot, hooking his boot around the bottom of the frame and dragging it from against the wall.

Jack subconsciously tightened his hold on Mac, momentarily reluctant to ease the kid onto the gore covered padding as if the fate of who had been there before might somehow mark the young EOD.

"It's better than the dirt floor, Captain." Landry seemed to understand his hesitation.

"Yeah." When Jack finally nodded, they lowered Mac to sitting on the cot.

"Mac, I'm going to get this vest off of you first so I can check your ribs." Landry didn't wait for Mac to answer, though the kid jerked, blinking owlishly when the other soldier knelt beside him as if he had just become aware of his presence.

"It's okay, bud." Jack moved to the other side of the cot, putting a steadying hand on the kid's shoulder, offering both stability and what Jack hoped was a safety line in a world that at the moment was turned completely upside down.

"Let's ease him back," Landry said once Mac was free of the armor.

Jack was gentle, but Mac still hissed in pain, swearing under his breath. "Watch the language, dude."

Mac shot him an incredulous glare that had Jack feeling somewhat better since there was at least some clarity in the blue gaze. He winked at the kid. "No need to sully your Boy Scout image over a few busted rips and a concussion. You're tougher than that."

"Tombstone, you're one to talk," Landry chattered as he lifted the bottom of Mac's t-shirt, shooting Jack an anxious glance over the body of their friend as a stunning array of red and blue bruising was revealed.

"I once had to put some crude field stitches in Jack's giant head. He said things that would make The Hammer blush." Landry flashed Mac a knowing grin. "I can't believe he kisses his momma with that mouth. How about you, Shep?"

"I'm pretty sure…" Mac's voice caught as Landry began palpating up his side. He squeezed his eyes shut but pushed on, "Jack was raised by wolves."

"Maybe hyenas," Landry laughed.

"Hey now." Jack slid his rifle behind him, letting it hang at his back before taking a knee beside the cot, He watched as Landry's face grew grimmer as his examination continued. "Just where do you think all those homemade cookies and other goodies we've shared came from?"

"California." Mac opened his eyes, locking gazes with Jack. His breath hitched and Jack set his jaw to keep from his own bit of cursing. "I shared those with you."

"That's right." Jack smirked, glad the kid was with them enough to let him have it. "Your good buddy Bozer is one hell of a cook. I still dream about that Pastrami he made at Christmas, and I'm not completely convinced everything he put in that French toast was legal."

The mention of Bozer had Mac's face darkening, a veil of confusion returning once more. "Where's Stills and Candler?"

"Jack hasn't received a care package from home since I've known him," Landry picked up smoothly.

"Don't you start," Jack sniped back, reaching out casually and gripping Mac's hand as Landry moved onto the colorful splash of color on the kid's chest and Mac let out a yelp, his breathing picking up to almost a pant.

"You've definitely got some busted ribs, Shep. I need you to slow your breath as much as possible." Landry pushed Mac's shirt higher. "How's your shoulder feel?"

"It hurts," Mac admitted, his hold tightening on Jack as he tried to do what Landry said and control his breathing.

"I bet it does," Landry said, glancing again to Jack before offering the EOD a knowing grin. "I'm guessing you are a hell of a lot more broken up than Jack's family was when he left them for a soldier's life. Being rid of such a pain in the ass must have been a huge relief, which explains why he has to mooch off of you and beg invites for holidays."

"Hah! Like you're as sweet as a spring day, Landry." Jack tried to remember all the organs located on the left side of the body and what might account for the worried frowns that Landry kept shooting him. "Mac, you should see how Columbus and Loman have our newest righteous recruit sending up prayers for them left and right. I'm pretty sure he's guessed what we all have known for a long time- that if those two don't change their wicked ways they're headed, as my sweet Nana Beth would say, straight to Hell in a handbasket."

"Mac, tell me if this hurts." Landry moved his hands to the left of Mac's abdomen and pressed.

The kid cried out and Jack was torn between trying to hold Mac down and the strong desire to punch Landry in the face. Luckily for Landry, Mac made the choice easy, rolling towards Jack and away from the pain, his other hand coming to fist atop the one the one Jack was already gripping.

"Easy." Jack resorted to glaring at his teammate, settling his free hand on Mac's head, brushing his fingers through the kid's hair. "Just breathe through it, brother."

"I'm guessing that would be a definite yes." Landry kept his voice light, letting Mac stay where he was. For that Jack owed him more than a beer. He'd dig up a bottle of the fancy wine Columbus preferred, vino snob that he was. "I'll just check that nasty head wound while we're here, and let Tombstone get back to telling you about the plight of The Unit's newest operator."

"Yeah, The Deacon," Jack nodded, moving his hand so Landry could work. He swallowed the bitter bile that had risen up the back of his throat, managing to free the thumb on his trapped hand. Jack ran it along the inside of Mac's wrist where he could feel the kid's runaway pulse thudding like horse hooves. "You should see the alter boy's face when Pauley really lets loose with the four-letter words using not only English, but all five of his fancy languages."

"The poor kid turns as red as his hair," Landry added, wincing in sympathy as he seemed to find what he was looking for. "Since you haven't met him, Shep, let me just say, Opie Taylor has nothing on this guy. He even has the freckles."

"That's what Hammer wanted to tag him by the way. Opie." Jack continued the chit chat as Mac's tight grip on his hand lessened slightly. He hoped the fear he was feeling didn't come across in his tone as Landry tore open a pack of antiseptic wipes he'd pulled from his first aid kid. "The Major just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Davy boy, in all his twenty five years on the planet, probably didn't even know who Andy Griffith was, let along Ron Howard."

"The famous director?" Mac was looking at Jack when he returned his gaze to the injured EOD.

"Exactly." Jack schooled his features, faking exasperation at Mac's lack of pop culture knowledge. "He was an actor long before he went behind the camera. Richie Cunningham ring a bell?"

"No." Mac coughed weakly.

"Kid's today," Landry said, tossing the now bloodied cloth to the floor. "Good thing your heads don't go soft from all the video game playing." Sitting back on his heels, he added. "I think all your massive brain will stay inside your skull this go around, Shep, even without my stitching skills."

Mac slowly released his grip on Jack, carefully uncurling his body as he rolled over to give Landry a slightly perplexed look. "I don't play video games, Columbus."

"Well of course you don't, Mac." Landry patted the kid's shoulder, giving a sly grin. "Too many bikini clad girls out in sunny LA. A guy with your Hollywood looks would be stupid to spend his time inside with a bunch of on-line geeks."

"Kid's got no game in that playing field either, I'm afraid," Jack teased, laughing when Mac raised the middle finger on the hand closest to him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Landry getting to his feet.

"I think I've done tortured The Shepherd all I can, at least with my field IFAK. I'm going to head out and contact our reinforcements. See if we can get a real doctor down here."

"Did the rest of the team take Stills and Candler?" Mac asked, a confused frown marring his blood-streaked face once more. "Are they with Pauley?"

Landry looked to Jack, jutting his chin towards the entranceway. "Walk me out, Cap?"

Jack stood, pulling his M9. He placed it next to Mac. "Shoot anything that might come through the other side of that tunnel. Got it?"

"But…"

"No buts. I'll just be a few steps away, but I'd rather be safe than sorry." Jack knew how the kid felt about guns, but this wasn't a situation in which Mac could 'MacGyver' some other way to take care of himself if the enemy somehow found their way into the passage. He waited for the kid to meet his gaze and give an affirmative nod before following Landry over to the tunnel.

"How bad?" Jack asked in a low voice as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Bad." Landry pulled his flashlight from his pack, sliding his HK416 rifle around in front of him.

"I've seen him hurt, but never like this." Jack glanced over his shoulder to keep an eye on Mac, afraid the kid might actually try and get up. "How bad is the concussion to have him so out of sorts?"

"You know I only play a doctor on TV, but my guess is the blow to the head is the least of the kid's problems." Landry turned and hefted himself up into the tunnel. Once in, he turned and took a knee. His countenance was foreboding. "He has some broken ribs, bruised sternum, and you're not going to like this part, but more than likely a splenic rupture."

"Damn it." Jack ran both hands through his hair. He'd been hoping his own suspicions were wrong. A ruptured spleen meant internal bleeding and internal bleeding meant they needed to get Mac to base and in the hands of a competent surgeon.

"He suffered massive blunt force trauma to his torso. The abdomen tenderness and left shoulder pain are text book signs." Landry checked his SAT phone once more. "That confusion you're so worried about is also a symptom of a ruptured spleen. Mac's not exactly 'being Mac' can't all be blamed on the concussion. Then there's the hemorrhagic shock he's already experiencing. That's going to be our biggest obstacle at this point."

"What should I do?" Jack gripped the lip of the tunnel with his hands, letting his chin rest on his chest for a moment as he digested Landry's entirely too long list of maladies.

"Keep him awake, and as still as possible." Landry turned on his flashlight, clasping Jack on the shoulder and giving a brief squeeze. "You know the routine, brother. Treat for shock and do what you're good at-talk. If we're lucky it could be a small laceration and the internal bleeding isn't as progressed as I think. After all, what the hell do I know? I draw maps and shoot bad guys for a living."

"You've still got me beat. That's for damn sure." Jack lifted his gaze, hating what he was about to offer. "Maybe I should go and you stay here with the kid."

"Trust me when I say you're the best person for Mac right now." Landry jutted his chin in the direction of the patient. "His pain's going to get a lot worse, and we can't give him anything, including water, until a real Band-Aid looks him over. He's also going to keep asking about his friends until you tell him the truth. I'm not the one to do that whole scene. The kid's tough as they come but he's going to need big brother, Jack to get him through it. Don't worry. I'll make it up top in record time, relay everything to base and be back to help ASAP."

Jack nodded, still unsure of the wisdom in him staying, but more than relieved he didn't have to go. "Watch your six, Declan."

"You too, Jack." Landry stood as much as the passageway allowed, starting forward. He stopped quickly, turning to face Jack once more. "You know, there is one more thing you can do."

"Anything." Jack meant it. "Just tell me."

"Pray, my friend." Landry pointed a finger to the roof of the tunnel. "The Deacon's not the only one with a line straight to The Big Guy. No satellite reception required."

"I got it covered." Jack had maintained an open com with God since this whole bloody mess started. He wasn't sure it was doing much good, but he was desperate enough to cling to the slightest hope if it meant Mac would pull through. He gestured for Landry to move. "Now haul ass, soldier. I have some explaining to do."

To be continued…