The buzz of Jack's phone startled Mac. He straightened with an audible gasp and looked around him, his heart pumping. Jack put a hand on his shoulder and shot him a worried look. Mac returned his gaze to his shoelaces. Would he ever stop being so goddamned scared? Mac swallowed and leaned an elbow on the wheelchair then cupped his forehead in his palm. He winced at the layer of sweat.
"Hold on a sec, it's Matty." Jack whispered as he answered the phone. Mac looked up as Jack patted his shoulder then stepped away. He crossed the length of the church barn but stayed in Mac's sight. Mac let out a deep breath, but couldn't keep the muscles between his shoulders from flinching with unease. His eyes travelled from shadow to shadow waiting for each one to come to life and hurt him. Mac shook his head and started to pace with the wheelchair. He studied the wooden Jesus. It was rough hewn but not old.
"Dammit!" Mac jumped and looked at Jack startled. Jack saw the tension in Mac's face. He waved a hand and rolled his eyes smiling. Mac wasn't reassured. His gut began to churn with unease. He shook his head forcing himself to calm down. Mac had a hunch that Matty was asking for an update. It rankled him to have the others talk about him. He moved forward. Jack held up a finger then turned his back to Mac softening his voice so Mac couldn't hear him. Mac felt a pang in his chest and his throat tightened.
Mac gritted his teeth and put his hands on the wheels to roll forward and bitch the man out. He froze an idea occurring to him. Jack had said this island had been taken from smugglers and drug runners. Why the hell did they have a church? Mac narrowed his eyes and studied the building more closely.
He could see the pipes of an antique organ poking out from a loft. He sat up. The pipes were dirty and dusty, but the connections between them seemed to gleam-new. They were lined up in random order and looked well-used even though playing coherent music would be impossible. The walls were freshly whitewashed and spotlessly white. Mac sniffed. He could still make out the faint smell of paint. Nausea churned in his gut. He looked up at the stainglassed window. He couldn't make out an image. It looked like random globs of candy melted together. It wasn't stain glassed but some sort of molded polymer, probably polycarbonate. A bullet proof ceiling made sense, Mac supposed but it would be hard to make and he couldn't think of anywhere it could be made, especially on a small island in the middle of nowhere.
Jack hadn't told him where the island was. Mac frowned. Why had Matty brought him to an isolated place with only Phoenix medical? He knew they were probably more than able to take care of anything that came up, but hauling all of this medical equipment and prepping this building would be difficult and incredibly expensive. Why? The question seemed to echo in the empty space around him. Above the plastic over his head he could see it was night, but bright blue light moved across the waves of plastic. A spotlight probing the storm outside. From the angle, it was above them. Mac couldn't hear it, but it had to be a helicopter. Why was it aiming at the building. Mac glanced over at Jack. For the first time he realized Jack was in full TAC gear with three guns. He had his familiar Beretta in his chest holder, a Glock at his him and another gun in a thigh holster. He was so used to Jack being armed it hadn't occurred to him. Another layer of cold sweat broke out and suddenly the air was thin around him.
His brain worked feverishly. His heart skipped as he saw it. He'd been gone a month. It would have taken far longer for this place to have been set up. Mac turned and stared into Jesus's sad eyes. Absently he noted the eyes were painted blue. He shook his head. No, it couldn't be. He turned around. Jack had moved to the doorway and was talking to someone outside. From the tone, Mac knew it was one of his agents.
Why were there so many agents if they were on a forgotten island that had hid drug smugglers for who knows how long? Thinking of that, Mac wondered how the DEA had found this place anyway.
From satellite the compound would have seemed like any other farm. That explained the polymer ceiling. It would muddle images from any kind of satellite the government had. Something even the most sophisticated drug smuggling ring probably wouldn't be able to afford if they had the technology or knowledge to make.
No, this wasn't a random drug smuggler's island. This was a specifically designed government facility. Mac's mouth went dry. It would make sense Matty would bring him here to protect him, but the terrorists had been vaporized back in Pakistan. Mac shivered and pulled the hoodie tighter. Something bigger was going on.
Mac thought about their last mission. He closed his eyes and put a hand on his chest. His muscles cramped and he begged his brain to stop, but it was too late. Variables were falling into a coherent theory he didn't like. They had stolen plans for a portable nuclear program. A program designed to be attached to space vessels. A space program like Pakistan's government financed SUPARCO? If state sponsored, a shadow branch of the Pakistani government, or a separate terrorist group this idea was terrifying.
Flashes of boots, faces, pain blistered across his head. He leaned forward.
"Ja-" He gasped. Jack was talking low but animatedly to whoever was outside. Mac tried to take in air, but couldn't gather enough to cry out. His chest hurt. His fingers and toes were numb. Still his brain kept firing mercilessly.
His being taken had been unplanned, of course, but he doubted Matty would pass up an opportunity to squelch such a huge threat. The sum conclusion drove a stake through him. Mac clutched his head as pain stabbed through it. He couldn't breath. The world was spinning. He was bait. His friends, his family was using him as bait! A black wave seemed to rise from the ground. They were using him. Even Jack. Mac's universe shattered.
Was this another delusion coming out from the blackness? Was this all a hallucination? Was he still in the hole? Did they still hold him? Had he been rescued at all? Mac screamed.
