"Up and at 'em, boys. Seven mikes to jump time." Clay pushed himself up and out of his hammock, securing it deftly and gearing up in silence as the rest of the team did the same. He felt their tense glances, and found himself grateful for the fact that they needed to be focused in order to ensure they were ready for their HALO jump into Iran.
"Once everyone lands and gathers, we'll move around the mountain and will be in place to snatch the target just before dawn. Everyone clear?" Jason looked around to each of the team, and Clay dropped his gaze with a submissive nod just before the steady gaze landed on him. BRAVO took up formation at the back of the plane, and Clay found himself relieved to be at the back when memories of Brian's death flashed across his mind. Brock, with Cerberus secured to his chest, glanced over his shoulder at the blonde's shuddering breath; these damn things never seemed to get easier since he lost his friend, but now was not the time to show weakness.
Taking advantage of the fact that the wind would've muffled any voices as they dove, Clay let his body shift into autopilot, and his mind drift to what would happen after this mission ended. Maybe it would be better if I didn't even make it back, he thought morbidly, before Clay shut down that thought sharply. No matter his feelings, he would never jeopardize his teammates by letting himself get careless.
The landing was smooth, as Bravo tended to function, and parachutes were deftly stowed away before anyone made a sound. "Okay, Cerb is going to lead the way with the infrared cam, so Five you are going to take point. Bravo Two, Bravo Six, you will be maintaining cover on our flanks as we move. Three and Four, you'll be with me in the back. Understood?" The chorus of 'yessirs' didn't seem to satisfy Jason, and he turned to Clay. "Six, are we clear?"
"Aye, Master Chief." The unreadable expression in his team leader's eyes confused Clay, but he didn't have time to think on it as they had to move.
The team moved in silence for what felt to Clay like forever. Never before could he remember a mission feeling so long, so dragged out...it was as though he could feel every heartbeat drag out, feel every possible misstep that could be taken to bring on more frustration from his brothers. He found himself grateful for the need for focus on their mission keeping them from lashing out at him like they'd done in the cages.
Just as color started to break through the black of the night, Cerberus and Brock finally brought the team to a stop. "Six, get high, cover the exit," Jason ordered. Without waiting to hear the directions for the rest of the team Clay obeyed, ignoring further glares from his teammates. As he crept silently towards a nearby building, carefully clearing the room as he stepped inside, his mind drifted to the team he'd just walked away from. After losing Brian and Stella, and the non-existent relationship with his father, Bravo had been the only family Clay had left...but just like everything else he touched, that family was slipping through his fingers as well. He'd hoped that they, of anyone, would understand him, his position in all of the shit.
A strange sound behind him had Clay whipping around, and he spotted movement ahead of the team. "Bravo One, this is Bravo Six, you've got some unfriendlies coming your way, I'm not in position yet. I-"
In an attempt to get a clearer view - and shot - of the threats to his teammates, Clay failed to notice the hole in the floor behind him, and when he made to step back, only air met his foot. The weightlessness of freefall lasted longer than he remembered the last time he'd dropped through a hole in a floor, and this time his landing came with blinding pain in his right leg. Shuddering breaths helped to quell the immediate nausea from the agony, until the scent of blood hit his nose and the blonde couldn't repress the urge to vomit.
Once he finished heaving to his right side, Clay took a moment to look around to ensure he was at least secure...wherever the hell he landed. The lack of any formal structure led him to believe he'd fallen into some kind of sinkhole beneath the house. "Shit," he muttered to himself. His head throbbed and his back ached, but neither source of pain came even close to his leg. Shifting up to his elbows, Clay glanced down to see his pant leg torn open, revealing a sharp white shard of bone protruding through the skin. "Fantastic…" He keyed his radio. "Bravo One this is Six...I'm, uh...I'm stuck, fell through what's gotta be a sinkhole. Definitely went through more than just the basement...not gonna be able to get myself out...compound fracture to the right tibia."
He was silent for a moment, waiting for either a response, or the sounds of gunfire. "Bravo team, does anyone copy? You guys clear up there?" Still nothing. Shit. "Guessing by the continued lack of firefight, I'm going to assume...hope that my damn radio's just busted again and I can't hear you." The blonde gave it another moment. "Bravo? HAVOC? Anyone?" The continued lack of response left him frustrated and fidgety, so Clay pushed himself back up on his elbows and heaved himself backwards towards the wall behind him. What he wasn't expecting - hello, compound fucking fracture - was the fresh explosion of pain that hurled him into darkness.
"Bravo Six this is Bravo One, do you copy?" Jason ducked his head around the corner to be sure that their visitors had moved on, frustration warring with worry at the lack of response from their youngest teammate. "Damnit, Clay, answer me," he hissed.
"Now that the hostiles are clear of the area, someone needs to go after Six," Blackburn commanded in their ears. Jason nodded, and gestured for Sonny to do just that.
"Bravo Three is entering the building, will report back any findings. How is ISR looking, HAVOC?"
"Tango is still in place, no changes there. Exfil will get trickier the longer it takes to locate Six-"
"HAVOC this is Bravo Three, I've got Six, we've already cleared the area of hostiles, and if that changes I'll take up overwatch if sitrep changes with ISR. The rest of Bravo can take care of tango without me and if Six is in a pickle, they can come when they're done to help me get him out." With a nod of agreement, Bravo was in motion, and Sonny muttered under his breath: "Goldilocks, you'd better hope your ass is fine, cause if not I'm gonna kick it myself."